You don't really have a choice about going to the Academy, and can probably count yourself lucky that the clan elders started in lightly, trying to guilt you into agreeing by talking about what your poor dead mother would have wanted.
Stupid woman. Stupid, wretched, prideful fool of a woman. It's not unusual for bloodline carriers to be mistrustful of medics at large, ninja who can easily tamper with, steal, or possibly replicate their prized achievements, but that doesn't mean that when one of the few you do trust says 'this sickness is beyond my ability' you should just quietly waste away at home instead of going to a hospital!
Not even a year, only a scattering of months after she died, and they've already begun hounding you to do your part as a prodigy of the clan. Saying no isn't an option, even without a parent to lean on they'll find ways to pressure you into doing what they want, and you aren't interested in being assigned a caretaker to keep a tight grip on your leash. That doesn't mean you can't do what they say how you want to. They're pushing their boundaries by not giving you even a year to grieve, but that means you have some allowances for acting out.
You barely wait for the instructor to call for you for an introduction, then kick open the door. You're supposed to walk out in front of everyone and politely introduce yourself as a powerful but demure maiden of a noble clan.
Instead, you cartwheel into position in front of the class, stop in a pose, and snap your fingers to point your thumb at your face, red eyes whirling.
"You were expecting some civilian transfer? Too bad! It was I, Mio, highest devil-king of the Uchiha!" you bark.
Little Sasuke grits his teeth and sulks, staring out the window.
"Huh? Do you know this girl, Sasuke?" one voice stands out from the murmuring.
"I don't!" he insists, snappishly.
"Just... take a seat." the old and greying instructor sighs, waving you along as he begins the lecture.
You don't really even need to bother listening, since you read through all of the books once with your eyes burning actively. That information is saved, and the instructor is just rehashing some of it. You take your seat anyway and pretend to be listening enough to catch questions in case you're called out.
They say that having the Sharingan active for too long messes with your mind, in a similar fashion to how some Jounin have claimed that shadow clones give you something resembling a hangover if you dispel more than one at once. As such, between those unsubstantiated rumors and the mild chakra drain, while the clan takes great pride in their eyes they don't really use them much. A definite victory button to be used in combat or times of emergency, or as a tool to be used for a specific purpose and then put away again to spare the fragile Uchiha psyche.
You say that that is bullshit and that they are pussying out, turns of phrase that mother would be upset to hear as part of your vocabulary, even if she wouldn't ultimately do anything about it. Before she went and died in her sleep, anyway, leaving you alone in an empty house. What they're so worried about is the idea that the brain can only hold so many memories, and then it'll pop, like a water balloon forced to contain a volume so great that it rips itself apart.
It's ridiculous. Occasionally even a completely untrained civilian can be born with perfect recall, and they didn't have any of the troubles theorized. Personally, you think that the historical cases of overuse that get pointed to are actually either coincidental unrelated mental issues flaring up, or entirely faked to take advantage of that rumor.
The fact of the matter is simple. There's no difference between having the Sharingan active and inactive except that it drains against your chakra to stay active. If there were more, then even having it mostly only recording the back of his headband or eyelid, the infamous Kakashi...
... might not be the best example, considering his own host of issues.
In any case, the question is what you're used to. If you're in the habit of forgetting things as quickly as you see them, then of course remembering them in perfect detail feels different. It's the same for you, but in reverse, so used to knowing exactly what you'd seen that you kept having to look back at things again and again to reassure yourself that your memories weren't lying. The sort of treachery that you had never before experienced, and which wasn't easy to work through. You would almost compare it, with a chill crawling down your spine, to hints of senility.
It also doesn't help that while they keep their mouths shut about it, there's a large number of the ninja and civilian population that genuinely do not like the Sharingan, and by association those who bear it. You haven't bothered to look into why, only reluctantly admitted that it's a problem, since you don't actually have a choice about whether or not you feel like attending the academy, outside of the Uchiha district. You have some amount of talent and you have the Sharingan, and so your only options are service as a ninja or service as a ninja followed by enlistment in the police corps. The clan will allow nothing else.
One stifling grip of circumstance after another, closing around your throat.
On the plus side, the sharingan can memorize ninjutsu as easily as facts and images. The first one you stole was the body flicker, from a ninja who was in a hurry and careless about who was watching.
You could have died when you tested it. You probably would have died, if it weren't for the constant drain of the Sharingan working your chakra reserves from birth like a flexed muscle. As is, you'd tried it out slightly after breakfast, and woke up in time to drag yourself home for dinner and pretend you'd worn yourself out playing instead of nearly killing yourself with ninjutsu practice you idiot. It's been a while since then, so... you probably wouldn't be out as long. Might not pass out at all, though you doubt you'd be up for anything after it.
It would probably be better to wait a while longer before trying it again, since you're in no hurry to take a nap in another mud puddle.
You also stole the academy standard transformation technique, though, and have cheerfully mutilated your own variation to just conceal your eyes. It's not going to do shit to keep them hidden if even an elite chuunin feels like taking a close look, but you can at least walk through a bunch of civilians without them getting on edge about red eyes.
You haven't stolen any other techniques. Yet. You've been forced to admit that this might just not be safe until you have the chakra reserves to use them, and so you instead focus on keeping active and training your body.
...
It's a while, but you're eventually all ushered outside to the training grounds, a mass of cheerful six year olds, and told that now you're going to be punching each other for fun.
It's not in those words, the instructor instead insisting that it's just a test to see who stands where in basic taijutsu, but naturally, none of the class is upset about this. Two at a time you're paired up in circles and set to fight, either to surrender or forcing the loser out of bounds. It's boys with boys and girls with girls as much as possible...
But it looks like you're the odd girl out, matched up with a brightly smiling blonde boy who tries his best to make sure you know that he's not going to hurt you as he falls into a sloppy stance.
"Begin!" the instructor calls, and then immediately gets distracted by biting and hair-pulling that needs to be corrected.
The kid you're matched with goes into a highly telegraphed punching lunge and you can see every bit of where he's going and what he's going to try to do. You move his fist slightly to the side with your left hand and bury your right in the side of his chest, an audible crunch sounding beneath your knuckles as you vent just a little bit of your gathered frustration.
He drops to his knees as you step back, gasping and clutching his side as you pose with your arms crossed.
"Foo. That blow has cracked three of your ribs." you say, extending the correct number of fingers. "It must be painful, but you aren't in serious danger from just that. Surrender and ask to go to the hospital."
"I... I won't!" the boy declares, rising shakily to his feet again, returning to his terrible ready stance. "I won't surrender. To win, you're going to have to force me out of the ring, because I won't back down."
---
[ ] This does not please Mio.
[ ] This does not displease Mio.
[ ] This slightly pleases Mio.
[ ] This greatly pleases Mio.
