Konoha. How I hate that place. It was my home, my sanctuary, and my prison. Born into the revered Uchiha clan, I was expected to surpass all others, to bring honor and glory to my family on the battlefield. I was expected to unlock my Sharingan early, proving how powerful the Uchiha offspring are. I never did. My Sharingan never surfaced, never showed itself in my stubborn black eyes. My father disowned me, my brothers shunned me, and I was demoted from the middle child of clan head…to the insignificant shinobi grunt.
Soon, I was forgotten, my name was accidently blotted from the archives of the Clan. No one remembers my name, my face, my voice…even Sasuke, my little brother...
When I became a chuunin I handed in my resignation to the surprised Hokage, and was out the gates within the hour. I was fourteen when I left; my hair dyed bright red, green contacts on my onyx eyes. Hiraiga Uchiha would simply disappear, never to be seen from again. In his place plain Hiiga Hachiu, the new postman would arise, known only for his fast deliveries.
I heard of the Uchiha massacre from my small apartment in Tanzaku, where I ran my courier business, with deliveries being made to places as far as Iwa and Kumo. Mentally, I had already washed my, hands of that family (I didn't even think of the Uchiha as MY family anymore) though I felt a slight twinge of guilt that I hadn't been there, maybe I could've done something…
I snorted. Like I, the failure of the prestigious Uchiha Clan, could measure up to my older brother, Uchiha Itachi, the prodigy. I couldn't even activate my Sharingan, let alone obtain Mangekyou.
I put the matter from my mind.
Just like everyone had done to me.