WARNING: angst, implied character death.
"Check for survivors"
He held his breath, bracing himself for what he might find behind that next door. Cautiously sliding it open, he peered with some difficulty into the the dark room; only dimly lit by the light of the moon outside.
Nothing.
He was just turning to leave, to check the other rooms when he heard a small squeak of sound from the far corner. Raising a ready-drawn knife, he made it there in one swift stride. But his heart stopped as soon as he found what was hiding there.
It was only a child. He was about seven years old. Black hair, like the rest of his clan. But, unlike the rest of his clan, this one was still alive. Staring up at him, dark eyes full of fright; too young to have awakened his Sharingan yet.
He recognised this boy. Had seen him before, with his brother. Seen them out walking in Konoha with their mother a few times, before the curfew. Their mother was the beautiful one who lay dead on the floor of the last room, the one he'd just left.
He was startled by a movement behind the child. The boy scrambled further back as if hiding something, as if using his body as a shield...
Noticed it now. A tiny hand was tightly gripping the boys shirt from behind. It was the younger brother, he could barely be two years old. He was silent, perhaps sensing the danger; instincts telling him the need to be quiet.
The older brother spoke, voice almost too soft to hear. "Please," he whispered.
"Those are the sons of the leader, Fugaku," His team mate stepped up beside him.
"Can't anything be done?" That one is just a baby...
"They look harmless enough now, but they'll grow into avengers. Just like the rest of their demonic clan."
"But-"
"I'll do it, if you can't handle it. I know it's hard, you're still young yourself. But this is what it means to be part of our organisation - we have to put the greater good of Konoha first."
He looked down, one last time, at the older brother's eyes. The boy must have known what was coming, known as soon as he'd seen Kakashi step into the room covered in his parents blood.
He could not look at those eyes anymore.
Kakashi left the house and stood for a while in the now silent street of the Uchiha compound. Cleaned his knife. It was his first week in ANBU, and he was already finding the work hard, very hard. He was fifteen years old.