Hyper Intuition: Double-Edged Sword

Target 1

03/28/15

Hyper Intuition was something that had been highly revered to and feared by those who had been in the know. It used to be a myth until Vongola famiglia's Primo, Giotto, came to prove its existence. It was highly effective on every battle, both physically and mentally, that many hadn't wanted to challenge it.

Everyone thought it had merely been intuition - an ability that immediately understood something without the need for conscious reasoning.* To a certain degree, it was. But it was only because of Giotto's split-second reactions and effective movements that made people believe it so.

However, hyper intuition, despite its name, wasn't simply intuition. It was more than just an instinct. It was also a high sensitivity to external stimuli that enhanced a person's understanding and efficiency with their responses. Well, at least that had been the good part of it.

Along its many advantages, though, it also had its disadvantages. It was both a gift and a curse. A double-edged sword, for all its metaphorical value.

Through the many generations, the ability became more diluted until it was nothing more than a nagging sensation in the back of their minds. But none had inherited the infamous seer-like cognizance that Giotto once had; that is, until a certain Sawada Tsunayoshi was born.

Tsuna had always been so glad he couldn't remember how he had been born nor have his memories during his years as a baby. Other than being horrendously embarrassed to death, it would have been quite the nightmare.

Since his birth, he'd always been a very sensitive person - well, that was according to his mother, anyway. It wasn't in the form of any emotional sensitivity, but rather it was in a more physical aspect.

He was sensitive in a way that a weak clang could make him wince in pain. A subtle whiff of shampoo could make him wrinkle his nose in annoyance. A faint flavor of anything sugary could make him cringe at its exaggeration in his taste buds. A firm hold on his wrist could make him flinch by its intensity. And a glance at the searing glow of light could make him seek refuge to any and every shaded area.

And that had been the mild part of his disorder - for there was nothing else that it could be called. It took him time to realize but apparently, when it was light to others, it was at least a mild annoyance to him. And when it was harsh to them, it was unbearable and severe to him in many folds.

He didn't understand why he had to be different.

His ears bled with a simple shout. His nose stung horribly at the trace of rubbish. He vomited at the most amplified tang that graced his tongue. He was almost blinded by the harmful rays of the sun. And he acquired frostbite at the drop of a snowflake.

Thankfully, his sensitivity to temperature and weather had become much dulled quickly in his short six years of existence as his body easily adjusted for survival. Had it been otherwise, he would have dug himself a hole underground and hid from the terrible world.

At least he'd now managed to ignore the ever-present buzz of the air flow, the flood of infinitesimal swerves of pressure in almost every displacement of molecules in the atmosphere, the clear awareness of each nuance of someone's muscle twitches and perspiration, and every vibration he felt for every little contact he had to a surface even from the neighbors' heavy footsteps. He didn't want all these unnecessary information.

But that hadn't been the end of it. There had been plenty he could add to that list and still ran out of paper to write into! A lot that had been worse and more intense. Each one of them were experiences he'd had the displeasure to suffer through with their own unique and terrible circumstances.

It was hard not to cover his ears when someone spoke more loudly than normal or ran away when more than one individual chatted and laughed together. It was hard not to shield his nose when someone applied their perfume a little too strongly to his liking. It was hard not to threw up in disgust at a nibble of anything bitter, sour or spicy. It was hard not to wrap himself in bundles of clothing even before the actual cold season settled in. And it was hard not to avert and close his eyes altogether at the hint of anything bright - light and pigment alike.

If only he could learn to ignore everything else as well. He couldn't, of course, but he tried. However, to try also meant to estrange everyone around him.

He really hadn't meant to be rude.

He hadn't meant to not give particular attention to his teachers in their lectures nor to give them more than a glance at a time. He hadn't meant to not try his best to do anything physical. He hadn't meant to refuse the proffered snacks from others' acts of contrite to his person. He hadn't meant to push away and hide from potential friends. He hadn't meant to alienate anyone.

He hadn't meant to. At all. But he had, anyway.

He wanted friends. Truly. He did. But it was hard to find anyone who'd understand. They just didn't have the patience and control to stay close with him. They weren't mature enough to give consideration. They were just children, after all. They're just like him, unable to understand anything unfamiliar in their own world.

But he really didn't wished to be socially impaired nor to get isolated because of it. He truly didn't.

Over the years, he had tried to cope. The way his childish way could only come up with was to focus on one thing and disregard the rest. But it would be highly difficult to do so at his present situation.

Crowds' congregated often in the airport after all. Different people all came and went from one country to the next, from one city to another, and from one town to the other. All had different destinations and all had different agendas. With all these people and crowd, it was hard to thread through them when you were only a child.

Tsuna tried to not let his attention stray. He truly did. He persevered and focused his eyes to only watch his mother - whose thin brows furrowed ever so slightly, the normally kind doe-like brown eyes shone with a concentrated and determined gleam, the slight sweat that ran down from her temples and nape, and the constant pursing of her pink lips.

He kept his body close and away from everyone else. He only wanted to feel the warmth that his mother's soft hands had perpetually emitted and its tender yet firm hold as her slender fingers carefully knitted around his small, pudgy and clammy hand.

He concentrated on only inhaling his mother's sweet and subtle fragrance of fresh roses. And he tuned out everything else to only hear her soft voice as she carefully and patiently excused herself to the crowd.

But it was hard, most especially against such a large crowd as it was. The combination of sounds from voices rang continuously in different octaves, the grouping of soft trails of the wheels from trollies and luggage carriers, the mishmash of the rubbing of every cloth, and the phones' ringtones and keyboard taps.

There was also the continuous dispersion of fragrances to the air mixed in with a dizzyingly unpleasant smell of air freshener, cologne and dried sweat. Not to mention the rough and hurried slights of the taller and busy individuals that challenged his hand's connection to his mother's hold as they pushed and pulled at his poor body from many directions.

Crowds did always tried his sanity and aggravated his senses. It doesn't matter how big nor small it was, they always seemed to scream bloody murder to his tolerance.

"Come on, Tsu-kun," Nana's cheerful voice immediately took his whole attention hostage, eager to remove himself from everything else.

He gladly let his mother pull the both of them to a less populated area. They stood and waited there for only a moment before his mother waved her free hand excitedly to a certain direction. His sight immediately zeroed to the two gentlemen from that same way, both approached them in purposeful steps.

The tall, blonde man in an orange jumpsuit waved just as excitedly to his mother - the man who Tsuna dimly recognized from the photos as his supposed father. His physique was square-built, stocky, muscled, and toned in a way that can only be seen in a man that constantly worked his body to heavy work-outs.

Mother did say that the man worked for construction. But why can't he smell the sweat, oil, cement, soil and the sun that he had always whiffed with construction workers? An individual's profession always left clues in their muscles, gestures, habits, state of garments, callouses, and scent. No matter how much they took a shower, bathed, and changed clothes, their bodies and scent clued them to.

He wrinkled his nose. There was a coppery taste in the air around his father, and something powdery, too. Strange.

On the other hand, the other gentleman was an elderly man with tufts of white and grey hair, and dressed casually in a floral, summer attire. He had a slight - almost unnoticeable - bend on his back and a walking stick in one hand, but Tsuna didn't see the need for it. His gait was firm and balanced. His hand held the cane with strength that those of his age lacked.

Perhaps, he simply wanted to hold a cane? Tsuna wondered thoughtfully, then shrugged. It was none of his business.

The same scent was present to the elder as well, but it was much dimmed, like a faded ink in an ancient script. It was tolerable at least, but still, he decided that the two were weird.

Tsuna also took note of their foreign facial structures. Their eyes were bigger than the regular Japanese. Their mid-face was narrowed due to their compressed cheekbones that was so unlike of those of Asians' that projected sideways.

He frowned when his mother's hand instantly left his own. His palm suddenly felt uncomfortably cold. Sullen, he watched as his parents embraced each other. Their clothes crinkled as their arms circled almost possessively to the other and their faces buried to the other's hair or neck while their breathing and heart beats synchronized.

He took a step back and moved beside the elderly man when his father's muscles minutely tensed in preparation before he effortlessly lifted his mother off the floor and twirled her around in the air. Joyous squeals erupted from his mother's mouth while boisterous laughter boomed from his father's. The two lovers' reunion had been such a loud announcement even against the crowd's effort to drown the sound!

Though it was admittedly touching in a way, it still was irritating and horrible to his ears. He silently huffed and pouted childishly at this.

He made another effort to concentrate to a single sound in order to muffle everything else. But an amused chuckle rang beside him and disturbed his self-inflicted isolation. And despite being irked, Tsuna casted a curious glance to the elderly.

The older man's lips curled up, laugh lines became more pronounced and his eyes crinkled as his cheekbones lifted. He was happy - obviously amused and delighted by the lover's antics. But Tsuna didn't understood why. They created so much noise unnecessarily, that it made him want to clamp his hands to his ears - it was unfortunate that he forgot to bring his ear plugs again. And he might have done just that had the elderly man not averted his eyes from the couple and instead met his own large chocolate ones.

It took him a moment before he realized that he'd been staring back at the unknown man. Shyness overtook him as fast as lightning. His eyes turned downwards along with his now ducked head. His feet shuffled and his lower lips bitten in an attempt to focus his entirety to the floor and at his feet.

That was a mistake, though.

Had he not averted his sights to the floor, he would have realized sooner that his father's looming form had moved to his person. Large, calloused hands slipped to his armpits and had soon lifted him far from the stable and safe ground.

He wasn't able to stop the horrified yelp that escaped his lips, annoyingly squeaky even to his ears. He'd thought that had been sign enough to give the man a hint. But, apparently, his father had been stupid and oblivious enough to have misinterpreted it as an excited squeal.

The blonde man threw him high into the air. He was so terrified he couldn't even scream! Blood pounded against his ears. His heart beat increased to an unnatural degree. His eyes widened so much that anyone would have thought it would have fallen off from their sockets. And his father hadn't even noticed his scared and trembling stature but had instead continued to throw him higher and higher. It was simply terrifying!

As soon as he was settled back to the ground, he ran in a wobbly gait behind his mother's legs and determinedly clung like his life depended on it. He was heedless of how his body shook, how his breathing was hard and fast, and how scared out of his mind he was that he couldn't even think!

His senses were temporarily dulled into a buzz. And had he been coherent enough, he'd have jumped up and down in joy because of it! But as it was, his mind had also temporarily stopped processing thoughts.

It wasn't until he was sat in a moving vehicle in between his mother and the old stranger that his breathing evened out and his brain had rebooted to coherency. Blinking unsurely, his attention revolved around the adults. He, then, found that the stranger - now identified as Grandpa Timoteo - was the boss of the company that his father - named Iemitsu, as he finally remembered - worked in. And that they would stay in their home for only a few days to, perhaps, only a week or so.

He sighed in relief at that thought. At least now he knew that he didn't have to stay with strangers in their home for too long. One of them might have been his father, but the man was nothing more than a stranger to him, as harsh as it might have sounded. For as long as he knew, it had only been him and his mother while his father visited them sporadically at most.

It wasn't that he hated the man, but it was more like he wasn't home long enough for him to know better. He was more of an acquaintance if anything.

Well, that was only one of the reasons, anyway. Another had been that as soon as his eyes laid on his father, he knew that the man was loud and smelly, two of things he disliked most. He could already feel his ears bleed and blare in pain, and his nose clouted by the noxious smell of alcohol and sweat. Again. And as always.

Disgusting.

As soon as the door of the vehicle opened, he ran off to their front yard and his back laid on the soft blades of grass. Each blade poked both at his clothed and bare skin but he didn't mind. He graciously breathed in the earthy smell of nature as it rode into the faint, cool breeze that rustled every leaf in the tree, bushes, and grass in different notes. The flower's sweet aroma from the small garden that his mother tended to had added to the relaxing effect.

He was happy that his mother had been so considerate as to pick flowers without much scent.

He silently thanked his mother once more when she directed the other two to the house and left his person be on the yard. He rather loved his peace. And he loved his mother for always understanding. He could care less if the adults' preferred to spend their time needlessly chatting, all he wanted was the quiet.

At least in their yard, he could concentrate on to nature rather than the whole civilization that surrounded him. He sighed in relief.

The days went by uneventful - though his father proved to be as noisy and obnoxious as he'd thought. He spent his time on the yard playing with a ball by himself. But sometimes his father or Grandpa would come to play with him, and sometimes both would join and drag his mother along the way.

Unexpectedly, he loved to play with Grandpa, and overall to just spend his time with the elderly. Grandpa was warm and nice. He wasn't raucous like his father, which was a nice bonus.

He smiled as he took the red ball on his hands - bright red, rough, and rubbery.

Yes. Tsuna liked his Grandpa.

As he immersed in his thoughts and turned off his perception to the world, the brunette hadn't noticed how their gate was marginally opened nor how it creaked ominously when the Chihuahua from next door went in. He was only made aware of this when the said dog barked loudly at him and made him drop the ball from his hand.

The bark was shrill and ear-splitting and it made his whole figure stop in shock. But the putrid smell of the dog's breath, saliva and horrid hygiene freed him from his stupor almost immediately. The horrible odour made his eyes watery but his sharpened perception didn't cloud the view of the pointed sets of teeth that he had no doubt would wound him severely were it to brace into his limbs.

A choked sob left his lips at the thought while fat tears flowed down his cheeks. The dog took a step forward while he answered with a step back. The two continued with the sequence until Tsuna, inevitably, fell on his rear. But the Chihuahua didn't stop until it had cleared the distance between them and barked once more.

The shock of the dog's snarl and closeness made the brunette cry out in fright. His heart thumped loud and hard in his chest. Fear for his life and the need for self-preservation awakened in his young mind's consciousness.

A form of heat raged from within. An unknown resolve flooded his whole being. It blazed hotly into his bloodstreams. It burned wonderfully under his skin. For a moment, he felt true harmony. It made his whole being's perception and overall senses more focused than ever without any need of simply concentrating his entirety on one thing.

He continuously cried for the heat, but it was neither scorching nor painful. But it was overwhelming. It felt like it would eat him whole! He couldn't decide whether he should permit it or not.

Nonetheless, it was intoxicating. It was a wonderful chaos within him. But he knew. Somehow, he just knew. He knew that he couldn't. That he shouldn't tap into the heat.

Not yet. But he didn't have the knowledge on how to stop it. And at the same time, he didn't want it to end. It was maddening! It was both euphoric and crushing. A blend of conflicting ecstasy.

So drunk was he to the sensation that he forgot about everything else and simply let himself be drowned to it.

And, then, it stopped. Just like that, there was nothing. His heart faltered. His breathing hitched. His eyes were dazed. The fire in his blood halted. His mouth left agape.

What happened? He blinked. His mind was boggled.

He blinked once more and his vision cleared. His breathing were leveled. His heart pounded in a more casual rhythm. But there was that cold emptiness. It was there, deep inside, but he couldn't reach it.

Why?

Panicked, he tried to find it once more. He wanted the heat. He loved the heat. It wasn't loud, it wasn't reeking, it wasn't blinding, and it wasn't agonizing. It was harmony. His senses wasn't dulled. In fact, it sharpened even more but it wasn't the usual madness and unruliness that routed from his senses.

Where is it? Why can't I reach it?

A calloused pad cupped his cheeks and he instantly looked for its source. He found Grandpa stooped in front of him. It took him a few seconds before he noticed the thumb wiping his tears.

Oh. He was still crying. OH! He, then, realized why the heat had stopped. Grandpa hid it from him!

His hands grabbed the elder's cloth. Desperation and plea swarmed his mind. He opened his mouth and tried to ask but nothing came out. But he tried once again.

"Grandpa…" his voice croaked in a soft, broken timbre.

The elderly brushed his hands against Tsuna's face, then, smiled, "It's okay now, Tsunayoshi. You'll be fine. It's not time yet. I hope you understand."

And again, somehow he understood. He nodded his head in acquiescence and embraced the older man, unmindful of his father's presence. It wasn't long before he drifted off to sleep, oblivious of the weakening of his senses but somehow aware that he'd grasp that heat again one day.

His conscious awoke by a muffled call from his mother. His eyes fluttered open and found the familiar white ceiling of his room. The scent of breakfast struck his nose. Pancakes, eggs and hotdog.

He stopped. A dulled sensation infested his mind and body in anticipation. He understood. It's time. He'd feel the heat once more. He could already touch the intensity as his veins thrummed in a fervor.

"TSU-KUN!" his mother's shout reverberated from downstairs, "If you don't get up now, you're going to be late!"

Eyes widened in panic and his head swiveled to the clock. Oh. Shit.

His hands gripped the blanket and pulled it off his body. Or at least he'd tried to pull it off but the cloth was wrapped around his figure. As it was, he pulled the blanket, his figure rolled and the momentum pushed him off the bed. Ouch.

He quickly scrambled for his morning routine and dressed himself with his school uniform. Though it had gotten wrinkled from his rashness, he made sure it was decent enough to pass the disciplinary committee's standard. After all, he didn't want to get punished for it.

As soon as he could, he ran downstairs. And in his hurry, he stepped in his pant leg and inevitably fell into a crumpled mess.

"So, this is Sawada Tsunayoshi," the squeaky voice of a child greeted him as soon had landed to ground level.

Bewildered, his gaze lifted from his downed form. His eyes took in the black leather shoes, black pant legs, black coat, red dress shirt, blue necktie, yellow pacifier, black fedora, a green reptile of sorts, and a child. A faint familiar powdery scent and blood dispersed to his person.

His brows furrowed. He'd smelled these before but he couldn't remember when and where.

He was barely aware of his mother's babble in the background as he tried to remember. But the words from the child got his attention.

"I'm going to be your home tutor," the child repeated for his sake, black beady eyes silently observed his person.

Of course, he was ridiculed by this notion. He argued and tried to reason with his mother. She's mostly mellow but she could be stubborn when she's set her mind to something. It was like moving a hundred feet high and thick steel wall. Still, he tried to convince her otherwise until he took a glimpse of the clock, that is.

He's going to be late!

Thoughts about the baby - Reborn, as he learned - left his mind as he took a toast and ran out the door with his bag. He only slowed down when he reached halfway, he knew he'd arrive at school in time even if he merely walked from this distance.

He'd regret that later though, once he was safely laid in bed and he'd thought of it. Because he might not have to experience something so stupid, embarrassing, and painful had he not slowed to a walk. But if he knew better, he'd have to experience it one way or another. It was inevitable.

As they turned the corner, Kyoko - the school idol and his crush - and a dark-haired girl from another school had seen the child, taken interest and squealed at the cuteness. Then, as the two girls left, Reborn accused him of his obvious crush to Kyoko. And, of course, he denied it. And instead of teasing him for it, Reborn took the green reptile to his hand and it morphed into a green gun.

Before he could even comment about the ridiculousness of the situation, Reborn shot him in between his eyes.

The momentum pushed his body to the ground. He laid there with wide eyes. Then, the most excruciating and astonishing thing happened. His breathing increased. His blood and veins burned in that familiar feeling that he'd anticipated since he's very young. The heat was as refreshing and relaxing as he remembered.

He wanted this. Waited for this. And craved for this. The heat could be his drug and he would embraced it without regret.

But what he hadn't expected or rather had forgotten, was for his heightened senses to unlock. And due to years he'd been without it, it only made it ten times worse.

His mouth opened in a silent scream as pure agony blanched his mind. The sun's rays scalded his eyes and skin, burned and irritated by the hotness. The absence of his clothes hadn't helped at all. He had no kind of protection. His eyes were tearful and tender even behind his eyelids. His skin felt like he was on fire.

The honks, the engines' whines, the radios' hubbubs, and the terrible shrieks as every vehicle moved and rubbed the road's surface with its tires. The cacophony of leaves rustle, wind's rushes, doors' bangs, footsteps' thumps, birds' songs, dogs' barks, cats' mewls, and people's chats more than hurt his ears. These were all magnified. It felt like hundreds of nails clawed and screeched, and dented heavily on a polished surface in that agonizing way.

The scents of perfume, cologne, shampoo, lotion, gel, sweat, rot, oil, gun powder, and blood assaulted his suffering nose continuously. It felt fiery. Everything was so intense that each scent punched his nose every time they carried to his person.

There was just too much. He more than ached. He writhed, convulsed and bled in raw pain. If that wasn't pain, then he didn't know what was. It came to a point that his brain finally had too much and shut down. And wasn't that the most blissful and welcomed sleep he'd had.

A/N: Well, this is my take for Kurokishi'93's challenge to write about a situation wherein hyper intuition was more than just an intuition but also a heightened sensitivity to external stimuli. She suggested a multi-chapter but I was reluctant to start another one with Past Excursion still on-going (and with sporadic updates, btw). So, this was only supposed to be a one-shot. However, my muse seemed to have plans of its own and I'm still not sure where it would take me.

I'm sure I'd be able to scrape another chapter and probably just add a few snippets from canon in Tsuna's POV or others' POV. But then again, things don't always go according to plan. So, I don't know, I might make this a multi-chapter after all. But as I said, I am reluctant to start another series. And currently, my brain had all but shut down, which is also why this is shorter than my usual one-shots (usually amounting to around 10k words). And my muse had gone dry.

So, if you have anything to say about this: have ideas, suggestions, violent reactions, headaches to complain about (only caused by this fic, of course), grammar mistakes to point out, and so on. Do review. Please. With cherries on top?

Ciao.