Kashi is not unlike Uchiha Madara in basic appearance. Black hair going down to about his shoulders, bangs that almost cover his eyes, features mostly plain, nothing really to distinguish him from the rest. Unlike Madara, Kashi does have one discerning characteristic, other than his hair. His eyes, those dark pathways to the soul, have a red sclera, and a black iris, making him look comparable to a snake. In terms of clothing, he usually wears a red sash-belt to keep his dark vest closed and a white shirt underneath, not pressed, but not torn with age. Another thing that stands out about him is his large sword, which he carries around almost everywhere. The Uchiha clan sign is under his shirt as he chooses to hide his clan, without disrespecting it.

They were back. Had they been missed? They doubted it. Would they be remembered? They doubted it. Thats just the way life was. When the strong live with the weak its the weak that become strong. HE had taught them that much, hadn't he. And now they were back, back to his village, back to their village. They stood upon a cliff, looking down at how their marvelous village had changed. The Uchiha district was being made into space for a large collection of shops. The old Police HeadQuarters still stood, a monument to what they had gained for the very much they had given up. And where were the rest of them? Those ones that hadn't been smart, those ones that hadn't protested and left to wander? Dead. And what good were dead friends? Just a reminder of what could happen to them. The the returning Uchiha.

They could see his head. Now the rest of the body. The site of him was a relief to many and a great achievement for all. They had reproduced again. Whether or not he had the sharingan was unimportant now. He as a person was unimportant now. All that mattered was that they were becoming larger, better, faster, stronger, and that they, as a clan, were going to rule again. He stared up at them with his big, brown eyes, searching them for help. His father and mother, his grandfathers and grandmothers all looked down at him with their smiling faces, telling each other what a miracle life was, secretly thinking that they wouldn't mind having that life. Being able to start fresh again, not having to worry about being tormented or abused.

He bled. Good, his body was not misfunctioning. He cried. Good, his lungs were healthy. He was a good little infant, who became a good little toddler, who became a good little boy, all dressed up and ready to to the academy. He had brand new pencils, brand new paper and clothing. He sat at the front of the room and the teachers touseled his hair and told him what a good little shinobi he would grow up to be. He worked hard, got good grades, and ran home every day to loving and caring parents, who congratulated him with a hug and a bowl of rice. Life was good for the young Uchiha.

It was his last year at the Academy, and two of the biggest 12 year olds he had ever seen looked down at him, cracking their knuckles, their horrible, ugly faces grinning stupidly at the boy with the clean white shirt and the clean white paper. They didn't look 12 in fact. He would be surprised if they were 13 in fact, they were huge. He stared up at them. "W-what is it?" he managed to mumble out in his little voice. "We don't like you" they replied in unison in their deep, growling voices. And they started pounding him relentlesly. His clean white shirt and his clean white paper got covered in dirt and blood as the teachers that had touseled his hair looked away on purpose. Life was bad for the Uchiha.

No teams? The villagers were all worried, all taking in hushed voice. Everybody was assigned a team as soon as they got out of the Academy, weren't they? Not this generation apparently... He was sitting alone, swinging back and forth on a swing. His parents were off on a mission of utmost importance. They had fretted about not being here with him when he graduated, and he told them that he would be fine and that they should go. He swung back and forth. He regretted that decision. He wanted them here. It was his greatest moment, his greatest achievement so far... But it didn't feel that way. Top of the class didn't seem that important after all the bruises and aches he had had to pay for it.