He felt so cold. The cold air pierced his skin like tiny needles, and his young, childish brain was confused and foggy. A young boy was fastened onto a broad, flat doctor’s operations table. Above him, a bright white surgical lamp blasted his eyes.
He wiggled around in discomfort, barely able to look at his surroundings. When he attempted to, the blinding light was too much for him to handle.
The boy had sleek, thin, white hair with black tips on every strand. His eyes were light blue with hints of pale grey. Genetically, this child was set up for success. He was strong, observant, intelligent, and, most of all, picturesque. And yet, such a perfect child was ensnared?
Still perplexed about why he couldn’t rub his eyes, the boy realized he was strapped to a table. Feeling sudden panic overwhelm him, he frantically screamed out for help.
Unfortunately, that proved futile. No one came to his aid. He had yet to understand how he got into this predicament. His cunning and agile mind sought ways to escape, but his young body limited him. After all, he was merely four years old.
“Oh, it seems the anesthesia is wearing off.” A suppressed sigh came out of nowhere.
Still groggy and dizzy, the boy couldn’t catch a glimpse of the person who said those words.
“Alrighty then, can someone pass me a quick jab of anesthesia? Looks like the last one wasn’t quite enough,” the same voice called out calmly.
I can’t see, he thought. The world seemed blurry to him. No matter how hard he tried, he didn’t have enough energy to fight back. It didn’t take long before he felt a subtle sting on his arm. He tried resisting the grasp of the man’s hand, but his arms and legs were strapped down.
He knew he could scream. He could make whoever was examining him annoyed or angry. But he knew that wasn’t the best course of action. What would merely screaming achieve? That would only worsen his situation. He could already imagine whoever was doing this would tape his mouth shut. That’s why he took a safer approach.
“Where am I?” he asked the person.
“Oh? Still not sleeping, are you? Don’t worry, you’re not in any danger,” he paused, “yet, that is.” The person seemed to be injecting him with something else. It wasn’t the same as before.
“What are you doing to me?”
“Huh, well, I must say, you're awfully polite to someone who is injecting unknown fluid into your body,” the stranger cackled.
“That’s not an answer,” he retorted abruptly. The boy wasn’t in the mood to tiptoe around the topic. Expecting some rough and impatient answer, he was surprised to hear the stranger laugh.
“HAHAHAHA! WOW! I’m having an intellectual conversation with a four-year-old! They weren’t joking. You’re something else, kid!”
They? The boy listened carefully to his words. More than one person was examining him for some reason.
“I still don’t understand, why am I stra-” In the middle of his inquiry, the boy suddenly felt lightheaded again. His energy drained rapidly, and he could feel himself slipping away into unconsciousness.
“Sorry, can’t tell you. I mean, you won't even remember this soon enough. Have a good nap!”
Trying to summon every last ounce of energy to say something, it proved futile as everything went blank…
#
“Ahum… Sen?” a stern voice shouted. “Sen, I know you can hear me!”
No response. Let me sleep, Sen thought. He heard his teacher’s annoyed voice clearly but didn’t want to comply with such a rude demand. He hadn’t slept much the night before, so the least the teacher could do was cut him some slack. Besides, he wasn't missing much information anyway.
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“Mr. Sen Ano! What gives you the right to fall asleep in my classroom!” the teacher exclaimed. With a suppressed sigh, he lifted his head to meet his teacher’s firm expression. A few kids his age murmured among themselves.
Typical gossip, Sen mused. It didn't bother him; he couldn't care less about what people thought. He’d already been a victim of verbal outcasting his whole life for a certain reason. So this was child’s play.
“Sen,” the teacher gritted her teeth, “would you care to explain what we learned today?”
Ah, that might be a problem. I don’t have a clue. Which class am I in? Oh, right, history. That should be relatively easy for him. Around Sen, classmates eagerly awaited his response, probably hoping he'd face repercussions or make a fool of himself. Unfortunately, he wasn’t planning on that—
“What’s the subject?” he asked calmly. By the look on his teacher's face, he could tell she didn’t appreciate his nonchalant attitude. He never really showed much enthusiasm or embarrassment. He just never really wanted to, or maybe it wasn’t a want. Maybe it was something people couldn't control. Just thinking about it truly baffled him.
“Well, if you didn’t fall asleep in the middle of the class, maybe you would know,” she remarked slyly, but then gave in. “Fine, what is the origin of the five Super Senses.”
“Huh?” Sen raised a brow. That was a very simple question. Barely a question. He glanced around him. A few classmates gave him smug snickers, almost as if he was caught. Surely they didn’t think this was a hard question? Did they think he would crack under pressure? He truly didn’t understand kids his age.
“Well,” Sen began, standing up from his chair and giving a brief yawn before proceeding. “The origin of Super Senses is pretty simple. A meteor crashed into the earth in the mid-1870s in central Europe. The star was roughly seventy feet long and fifty wide if we are going into details. The damage was, well, quite minimal. However, it wasn’t the physical damage which became the problem in the end.” Those who were murmuring against him were now nervously listening as he depicted the events flawlessly.
“Since in that time period our technological advancements were barely beginning, we didn’t have time to research and quarantine the meteor properly. In the end, that was the moment society took a complete one-eighty. It was very spur of the moment, but people started to change. Not in physical attributes, but something genetically in us changed. People began to feel their Hearing, Smell, Sight, Touch, and Taste enhanced. But not minimally, it was something way more drastic. Some might even call it a superpower. It started off as a small portion of the population, but then it slowly increased each day, almost like a virus. Soon enough, the majority of the population was now affected by the new phenomenon. Most had one dominant Sense, or Super Sense, as many would call it. And very rarely, there would be outliers who had two or three. It’s fully possible for someone to have been blessed with all five, but throughout the years, it’s never been recorded. Some might call it a gift from God, but as we all know, nothing comes free…”
Silence gripped the classroom while he continued elucidating history. He could tell some had an annoyed expression on their faces, but of course, he needed to proceed. I mean, not because I want to. I’m just doing this so I don’t get expelled. Of course, Sen's grades were simply off the charts. He never failed a test and was strictly an A student. So, even in the hypothetical scenario that he would get expelled, didn’t quite make him worry. He could simply apply to another school. His academic level was so consistent, in fact, that he could easily get into a high-end college and acquire a scholarship with ease. But… regardless of all that, he still—
“Some might call it a gift from God, huh?” One of the students cackled, repeating his last words. “Well, looks like you were on his blacklist!”
Sen didn’t respond. A few people next to him were seemingly holding in their laughter upon hearing the joke. Some seemed troubled. A few were sympathetic, and most didn’t bother taking notice. It was quite hard for him to block out such a remark and continue educating history. He was simply planning on ignoring it, but his teacher was ahead of him.
“Kagari, do not use such insults in this classroom. Do you understand?” she ordered firmly.
“Tsk…” Kagari rolled his eyes, clearly reluctant to be scolded. “I didn’t even say anything bad. Was anything I told him not the truth? I mean, seriously, teach, you’re the harshest person out of all of us. YOU ordered a person who doesn’t have a super sense to recite the history revolving around it.”
That was the last thing the teacher wanted to hear. A vein throbbed on her forehead. “Watch your tone when speaking to me! I’ll have you reported to the principal’s office this instant—”
“There’s not need for that,” Sen sighed. Both the teacher and student fell silent and looked at him. “I appreciate the defense, Mrs. Aoiko, but in the end, he’s right. God does seem to hold a grudge against me if he exists. Maybe it's simply luck that I never received a Super Sense when passing adolescence, as much as I hoped for one. But that’s just how I was born. I’m sorry if that makes anyone uncomfortable or view me differently,” he gave a short bow. “In the end, that’s just who I am. Call me weak, inferior, or whatever you please. Sadly, this isn’t something like losing weight or getting a new haircut. That’s something I physically cannot change. So, if you wish to still make fun of this fact, that's your choice. Oh, also, a small piece of advice: if God really exists, you should know he watches your every move. So be careful what you say…”