Killing Eyes

Prologue

I left school early. To be honest, it probably would have been wiser to just rest in the Infirmary, but if I did that at this hour, who knows how long it would be after school ended that I'd wake up? Ahika would probably have to be called and would end up worrying a lot, so I decided it would probably be better to just go home by myself, even if it required pushing my body.

I was lucky Arihiko had caught on to how I was feeling, as it was; most times I would just end up silently passing out on the floor instead, but I started feeling a bit better once I was outside and breathing the fresh air. It had been awhile since I'd collapsed from dizziness and my bouts of anemia had gotten less and less frequent in the years after the accident, but they still came upon me now and then. Even so, I suppose that was a fair price to pay for having been able to survive such a dangerous accident.

I turned onto the main street, walking slowly in the hopes of not getting sick. I just had to make it through here and the residential district and then it's a straight line to the Tohno Mansion. Hah…I suppose at some point I'd have to start think of that place as home, but…that wasn't something I was certain I was capable of doing. After all, that was the place where I'd—

"—Ah," I suddenly exhaled. I guess I wasn't feeling as well as I thought. Looking around at where I was, I nearly sigh. No; there was no way I'd manage to get all the way to the mansion just by pushing myself. At best, I'd end up collapsing by the side of the street.

There's no helping it, then. I moved to the guardrail and leaned against it, breathing in and out carefully. I'll just rest here until my anemia calms down a bit.

There isn't really anything else I can do while I was like this, so I just blankly watched the street in front of me. A part of me is surprised; it's only a little past noon but the streets are full. Many people are walking by where I'm sitting, hardly casting me or anyone around them a glance. Of course, I don't recognize any of them, either, and am only watching them because I have nothing else to do, so that's understandable. It is, after all, just a normal crowd of people; the type one sees every day. Not something worth any particular attention.

—At least, until I see her.

All she does is walk past me, but I freeze. The air comes from my lungs in a helpless sigh and my hands tighten on the guardrail against my will. My eyes widen as I look at her—at her, and no one else, as my heart starts to race, and my back arches, as if my spine were about to tear itself out.

She was beautiful beyond words. Just looking at her was like watching the sun rise for the first time, it was so breath taking. She was the type of woman that men probably would have killed each other over—and, of course, she's not paying attention to me in the slightest. Even so, I felt warmer just by being near her, like she was a fire and I was a moth—and even though I felt like I would be burned if I did, I wanted to get closer to her.

And then she passed me by and I was left feeling cold, like something important is getting away from me. My heart is pounding still, as if telling me to hurry up, and I can't bare it any longer and rise from the guardrail. My blood is rushing through my veins so fast it drowns out the sounds of the street, and I can think of only one thing.

Her. That girl. I'm going to—

I realize I've stopped breathing only when my lungs start to burn, and I have to force myself to take in air. I feel so cold and it's only then I realize I'm drenched in sweat. I tremble for a moment before I realize what I have to do.

I have to follow her. I have to follow that girl. I have to chase after her and talk to her.

My feet start to move.

She's walking slowly, taking in everything around her with careful eyes. If I rush up to her now, she'll notice me and I can talk to her and ask for her name—

Ask her name? Who am I kidding? I know very well that's not what I want to do.

But I don't know. I can't think; what do I want to do? If I know, then I should know, but somehow it's something I can't put into words.

My lungs are burning again and I realize I've stopped breathing once more, but so what? After seeing such a beautiful woman, it's understandable that I've gotten breathless, right?

That's right. Stop and ask for her name? Why would I do that? I'm not a kid, after all; there's only one thing I have to do.

My breathing returns to normal and I put my hands into my pockets. My fingers touch steel and I remember the knife I was given just a few days ago.

How fortunate. It seems everything I need is already here.

As she walks, I leave plenty of space between us, so she won't notice and so other people won't suspect. My pace changes, becoming more natural, and I shift my eyes to something else, showing the right amount of interest and no more, just like I was taught by my—

She and I are complete strangers, after all. I have to do my best to make it look natural as I follow her. Slowly, like I was riding a bike again after a long time and was just shaking off the rust, I change; the way I walk, the way my arms and eyes move, my expressions, everything, and then I'm just a normal person. I continue to follow her like that as she heads towards a building—an apartment complex in one of the nicer parts of town.

I look through the glass after she enters and see her heading towards the elevator. It opens immediately as she pushes the button and it's empty; I see my chance.

"Ah!" I say, coming through the door and seeing her in front of the elevator. "Hold that, please!"

I 'rush' towards it, moving normally as she looks at me. I have her attention for that moment and I wonder how she'll react to me. I can feel her eyes as they take everything about me in; the sweat on my skin, my uniform, my hair, my build, my glasses—everything I appeared to be, she captured in a moment, and then I felt something brush over my skin, and knew it was looking at me too, trying to see what I was. But I was just a human; I had no _ for her to find. A moment later she dismissed me completely.

I smiled at her as I stopped by her side and waited politely as she entered first before following her inside.

"What floor?" I asked.

"Eighth," She replied simply and I nodded as I pushed the button. It might seem odd if I was taking the elevator up to the second floor and the third could be borderline, so without hesitation I pressed the button for the fourth and stepped back to lean against the rear of the elevator. She glanced at me as I moved before turning her attention once more to the front.

Good. Everything was in place except—

These glasses were in the way. I can't do what I've come to do while they're still on.

'It's a promise, Shiki; you should never cut those lines thoughtlessly.'

…A woman had once told me that, but…I can't even remember her name or face right now.

It doesn't matter. I take my glasses off and…

I can see the lines. Not just them, either, but countless black dots covering everything. Has something happened to my eyes? The sight of them makes me wonder again; what am I trying to do? Why am I trying to do this? What do I want to do with that girl? I don't know anything.

I put my glasses in my pocket as the elevator reaches the second floor. The motion draws her attention again—I can tell even if she's not looking at me—so I wait. She's different, now that my glasses were gone, and I took a moment to watch her in the periphery of my vision. Her blonde hair had faded to a pure white and she was tall—taller than me, actually, standing over two meters. Her skin was flawless and beautiful, and though I was behind her, I could make out some of the features of her face in the reflection of the elevator doors. Her lips were cherry red and her eyes shone through shifting shades of catlike green. She truly was beautiful beyond words, even more so than before, but that beauty was marred by the lines and dots, like everything else I saw. But I do nothing, even as we reach the third floor.

But then we reach the fourth. The opening of the doors draws her attention away from me for an instant and I see my chance. I take a silent step forward and pull out my knife.

"—W—" The woman says. No, she tries to say. She will never finish, because I'm already cutting her apart. The words fall silent as the steel of my blade passes through her pale neck, white flames erupting bright against the white of her skin at its touch. She tries to do something, fingers curling into some trained gesture, but it's already meaningless. I finish with her neck and trace the line along the back of her head, turning as I pass her. My blade traces from her right shifting eye to those beautiful red lips, and then down to her abdomen, through her left breast, up from the rib to the heart, across her right shoulder, right below the elbow, through the middle of her hand, across her right thigh and above the left knee, across her left thumb and index finger, through her left forearm, across her stomach in two places, down through her groin, across her right ankle, and through her right foot, and I leave her in burning pieces on the floor of the elevator as slipped through the barely opened doors, not even taking a second. It had happened in a passing moment and was done—and she was nothing but swiftly burning meat.

The Elevator doors chime as they opened fully.

"—Huh?" I hear an incredibly dumb sounding voice say.

It takes me a moment to realize that voice is coming from my own throat.

I feel dizzy and stumble, turning to look behind me. The pieces of the woman are still lying there are the floor of the elevator, burning. The wounds were cauterized by the flames, so there was no blood, and the cuts were very clean, but even so, she looks like someone had broken apart a jigsaw puzzle and left the pieces lying on the ground. The scent of burning meat fills the air, and it seems so strange—I look around wildly, but there's nothing. There's nobody in this hallway but me and the scattered pieces of the woman.

I look down. In my hands is the murder weapon, the knife that had cut her to pieces. The doors chime once more as they begin to close, drawing over the sight of her body like a curtain and hiding it from my sight, but the scene is still there, bright and vivid in my mind.

"She's…dead…?"

The question is stupid, I realize the moment I speak it. Of course she was; nobody could survive after being cut to piece like that.

"Why…?"

Any equally pointless question. I just did it with my own hands, after all. Like it was nothing, I cut apart a woman I didn't even know.

"I killed her," I breathed, looking at the closed doors of the elevator. There was no mistaking it; I had killed her.

But why would I do that?

There was no reason for it. I had no reason to kill her. I didn't even know her. It didn't make any sense, did it? Was it a mistake? It had to be a mistake, right? It could have been a dream or a nightmare or something, but it couldn't have been real.

But no, that was a lie. The scent of her burning flesh still filled my nostrils, I was still in the apartment complex, the elevator was still heading up—without a doubt, it was real.

I stumbled again, barely managing to stay on my feet. This was wrong. This was all wrong. Why would I do this—I didn't even know her! She was just a woman I'd passed by on the street! She was a complete stranger; why would I kill her!?

But then, the reason was already clear. From the moment I saw her, I'd only been able to think of one thing. The thing I couldn't put into words before, the thing I didn't want to acknowledge—

Yes.

I had wanted to kill that woman.

"Ah…"

I felt like throwing up.

"Ugh, ah, aah…!"

I shook, scared and sick at what I'd just done, and I ran. I didn't think about hiding the body, I didn't think about how I might be seen, I just wanted to be anywhere but here, so I ran. Half-crazed, I left the apartment behind. I make it down the street before I can't hold it in any longer and fall to my knees, vomiting up the contents of my stomach while I cry. Even once my stomach is empty, I can't stop and I convulse slightly as I dry heave. It hurts, like my insides are burning, and I collapse to the side, continuing to cry.

I killed someone. Without any reason, without any remorse, I'd ended someone's life. Why I'd done it…even now I could not think of a reason.

I choke and start to cough into my hand, and it leaves behind droplets of scarlet red. My throat had started to bleed because of my body wouldn't stop trying to throw up and it hurt.

It hurt, so…this definitely wasn't a dream.

Maybe I did understand. Looking at her, I'd thought of her as the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, but that thought paled in comparison to when I'd torn her apart. That moment, when my blade traced her lines, had been sublime, like I'd realized what I'd always wanted to do and done it. The beauty of the sunset or the sea or a piece of art—they were nothing compared the awe and wonder that had come what chopping her to pieces.

I'd known since long ago that anything whose lines I cut would be torn to pieces and I'd tried not to think about it, but I'd also always known that had applied to people as well. If I was the type of person who wanted to kill people, these eyes were a weapon that could end many lives.

Since I'd known that…perhaps I should have put out these eyes or locked myself away.

"…I'm sorry, Sensei." I said, still crying. "I couldn't even keep such a simple promise."

But I don't care about myself. I killed that person. That person's life up until now, the future she'd dreamed of—a complete stranger had destroyed it all for no reason.

Even if I regret it, that isn't something that can be forgiven.

"Have I…gone insane…?" I wondered. I didn't know the answer. The impulse I'd felt had vanished, but while it had lasted…I hadn't even thought of holding back. I hadn't even considered trying to stop myself. Killing that woman had seemed like the obvious thing to do, the only thing that had made sense, and I'd done it without giving it any thought.

Then the answer was simple. I really must be insane. Maybe I'd been insane since that day eight years ago…

I feel myself start to fade, but from somewhere nearby I hear a voice…

"—Shiki-sama?"

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