The Outcast

A red line of blood.

It ran from the crook of her elbow to her hand, wound around her slender fingers, trickled down her little finger, and gathered in a swollen drop on the nail.

Was this the last thing I would ever see? My obsession, my grand design, my gestalt...

A beautiful line of blood on a woman's arm.

The mark I'd left on every one of my victims since I was fifteen.

I needed nothing more.

* * *

My foot hung over the abyss, and I froze, unable to move.

I stood on the roof of a six-story building, about to step off the edge. The sun shone brightly, a breeze brushed my face, and a crowd of gawkers was slowly gathering in the courtyard below. Someone shouted something, but I couldn't make it out.

I wanted to yell something rude at them, tell the whole lot to go to hell, but my mouth was dry. I couldn't force out a sound.

What the hell was I doing here? And where was here?

I glanced down at the courtyard. The height made my head spin at once.

Hold on. What was this? I wasn't afraid of heights!

Had I been planning to jump? What an idiotic idea. I could get seriously hurt. If you wanted to kill yourself, then kill yourself. No need to put on a show. What the hell was happening to me?!

“Ikari! Ikari-kun, stop!” voices shouted behind me.

It sounded as though they were talking to me.

I carefully drew my foot back and stepped away from the edge. My knees shook treacherously. The flood of sensations and anxiety made me sick. My heart hammered as if I'd just run a marathon. This had to be a dream. But why did it feel so real?

Two young boys ran up to me. One seized my elbow roughly and dragged me along. The other kept babbling nonsense.

“Ikari, what's wrong with you?! Were you going to kill yourself? Thank the gods no teacher saw you!”

The dizziness grew worse. I couldn't breathe properly, and my heartbeat thundered in my ears. This wasn't normal. Was I sick? My legs buckled. The boys couldn't hold me, and I fell to my knees, gasping.

All right. Whew. Calm down. I could handle this if I assessed my condition the way I always did.

Severe dizziness. Darkening vision. Rapid heartbeat. Shortness of breath. Weak limbs. Inability to draw a full breath. Diagnosis: panic attack.

No. Impossible. I couldn't have panic attacks. They were triggered by emotional breakdowns, and I didn't experience emotions. At all.

Or did I?

I stared stupidly at my hands.

They weren't mine.

Long, slender fingers, like a pianist's, with neatly trimmed nails. Soft, well cared for. No, no, no. My fingernails were usually clogged with dirt and blood. My knuckles were split, my palms callused. What was this?

Hands as delicate as those of the girl I'd wanted to cut up last month. A network of veins showed through the white skin. One careless squeeze and the bones might snap.

I had to remember how I'd gotten here. I'd been... Where had I been? I remembered waiting for a verdict. Oh, that's right. They'd delivered it. Death sentence. Naturally. After all my hard work, I'd expected nothing less. And then... darkness. Was I... Was I dead?

Then why was I here?!

And if you're alive, they'll be looking for you, my subconscious helpfully pointed out.

I had to run. Yes, run as far as I could and figure everything out later. Where was my knife? Where was my damn knife?!

My hand slid toward my belt, under the hem of my jacket—and since when did I wear jackets like this?—and searched the small of my back. My knife was gone. And so was my composure.

“Ikari, buddy, what are you doing?” the second teenager asked. “Say something!”

They were calling me by some bizarre name. I didn't recognize my hands. My clothes were strange. My body reacted in unfamiliar ways. Was I... no longer me?

I breathed out, leaned back, and forced myself into a sitting position so I could inspect the boys.

One was a skinny little runt in round, thick-lensed glasses. The other was shorter, a pudgy lump with tousled hair and a pimple on his nose. Fourteen or fifteen, perhaps. Diagnosis: nerds. In my old life, I wouldn't even have looked twice at them. They were hardly worth killing. What a pair of freaks. Made me sick just looking at them.

“What do you want from me?” I asked—and failed to recognize my own voice. A teenager's voice. Quiet and serious, but not mine.

“What do we want? Ikari!” The chubby one crouched beside me. “You were going to jump off the roof! We ran up to stop you. We're your friends!”

Right. Let's add it all up. I wasn't so stupid that I couldn't put two and two together. I was in someone else's body, wasn't I? In the body of a teenager who'd wanted to throw himself off a roof. Ha! What a joke fate had played. I'd wanted desperately to live, no matter what. This weakling had wanted to die. Seemed we'd both gotten our wish.

I felt my lips spread into a grin. The boys stared at me in confusion.

It couldn't be happening, yet it was. Even if this was nothing but a dying dream while my real body convulsed in its final agony, I was happy to play along. Everything felt so damn real!

Before I knew it, I burst out laughing, ignoring the nerds' astonishment.

I was alive! Alive! Alive!

The excitement left me craving something more. Slitting someone's throat would be a laugh. But not yet. First I needed to find out who I was and where I'd ended up. No sense ruining everything before I'd even begun.

I calmed down, shook my head, studied my “friends,” and tried improvising. That was something I'd always been good at. Pretending to be someone else.

Humans were simple creatures. Watch one for a while, imitate his mannerisms, copy his habits, and pretend you can hold a conversation. If someone expects you to laugh, open your mouth and make the appropriate sounds. If they expect remorse, raise your eyebrows and turn down the corners of your lips. Simple. All you had to do was reproduce the outward reflection of human feelings. A few tricks were usually enough to pass for normal.

“Guys...” I tried to look embarrassed—a difficult emotion. “I don't feel well. What happened?”

“You don't remember anything?” the skinny one asked in astonishment.

I shook my head and put on a frightened expression. Easy enough: bulge your eyes like a frog and lift your eyebrows. Damn animals.

“He's in shock,” the fat one announced. “I'm telling you. Let's take him to the infirmary.”

“No,” I said.

They exchanged glances but didn't argue.

“I'm fine,” I declared convincingly. “Everything's just a blur. Nervous breakdown.”

“Something's really wrong with him...” The chubby boy threw up his hands and turned to his bespectacled friend. “Rei, I'm telling you. We have to get him to the nurse.”

“Leave him alone, Jiro. Let him catch his breath. Ikari-kun, did you really lose your memory?”

“It's all hazy. I guess I freaked out. Must be the stress,” I improvised.

“But you remember Hitomi-chan's birthday is today, right?”

“No. Really?” I kept playing dumb.

“You got her a present,” Jiro explained. “You gave it to her before class, and she threw it out the window. Was there something valuable in the box, Ikari?”

Now things were getting clearer. I was Ikari. This was a school. The fool had fallen for a girl in his class and given her a present. She'd tossed it out the window for one simple reason: Ikari was every bit as much a nerd as his friends. The little idiot had been so heartbroken that he'd decided to jump off the roof just to spite her.

“Nothing valuable.” I shrugged. “What happened next?”

“Then, during the break...” Jiro began, but fell silent.

“Baku and his gang caught you,” Rei finished. “They beat you with a chalkboard eraser and shoved you into the girls' bathroom.”

I looked at my jacket. Yes, it was covered in chalk. Hmm. Ikari really hadn't been having a good day. The bullying had probably been going on for ages, and he'd finally decided to end it. A weakling, just as I'd thought.

“Here. Take these. I swiped them from my dad...” Rei held out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The packet showed a snowcapped mountain against a blue sky. I'd never seen the brand. “You need one right now.”

“I don't smoke,” I replied automatically, lost in thought.

They stared at me again. Damn it. Apparently Ikari did smoke.

“Kidding!” I smiled and accepted the pack.

I put a cigarette between my lips, clicked the lighter, and blew out the smoke with practiced ease.

“Ikari, we'd better get back to class before anyone gets suspicious,” Jiro said. “The lesson's about to start.”

Class? Why the hell would I want to go to class? Why not make a run for it right now? Then again, wouldn't it be smarter to think everything through first? Sit quietly, get my bearings, look around, sniff out the place. Everyone thought I was an ordinary schoolboy. What was the rush? That wasn't a bad idea at all. I'd keep pretending for now. I was good at that.

“All right.” I nodded and ground the cigarette butt against the sole of my sneaker. “Let's go.”

I followed them through the rooftop fire exit, down a broad staircase, along a corridor to an elevator, and up to the third floor. Everything was strange, beyond description. I didn't walk like myself. The body felt soft, alien, almost made of cotton. The light made my eyes water. Every smell seemed painfully sharp. Flowers, leather, perfume—the scents stung my nose. What kind of world was this? Everything seemed normal, yet it all gleamed like some damn cartoon. Or was I seeing it through someone else's eyes?

Even stranger was how easily I'd accepted my rebirth. Bang, and now I was Ikari, a schoolboy, a nerd, a weakling. Hello, pleased to meet you. What? Not pleased? Can't blame you.

Of course I was shocked. Just not as shocked as anyone else would probably have been in my place. Like I said, I scarcely experienced emotions. It made adapting to new situations much easier.

Speaking of which, what did I look like?

“Rei, which classroom? I need the bathroom. I'll catch up,” I called to the skinny boy.

He turned, regarded me suspiciously from behind his glasses, then answered.

“Room 3-2. Physics. I'll take your backpack. And tuck in your shirt. Sensei will yell at you.”

Why the hell should I tuck my shirt in? You can all kiss my—

“Sure,” I said dismissively and turned toward the welcome sign showing a little male figure.

Luckily, the bathroom was empty. Noise and birdsong drifted through an open window. Air moved across the dirty tiles, clearing out the smell of cigarettes. I went to the mirror and took a good look.

No. Somebody had to be messing with me.

A boy of average height stared back, with long hair falling into his eyes. He was... pretty. I'm no expert on these things, but girls ought to have been falling over themselves to get near him. He looked painfully shy, though. Those puppy-dog eyes almost begged to be gouged out. A bruise beneath one eye, too. That would be... Gray... Brown... Baku! Right, Baku. His handiwork, no doubt.

I leaned on the sink and examined my new face.

Well, I'd really stepped in it this time.

* * *

There were twenty students in the classroom. I counted them automatically the moment I entered. Most paid no attention to me; a few followed me with mocking looks.

Rei and Jiro were waiting beside an empty desk. A chalk-covered blue bag lay there too. Mine, I'd bet.

“You okay?” Rei asked anxiously.

His concern was beginning to irritate me.

“I'm fine.” I nodded and sat down.

They hovered around my desk for a while, then apparently realized I wanted to be left alone and wandered off. Right. Let's see what we have here.

I pulled notebooks and textbooks out of my bag.

Rio Ikari. First-year student at Tatsuko High West. The notebooks were covered in careless anime sketches and scattered notes. And there, among them, was a phone. Now we're talking...

The teacher entered to the click of high heels. About thirty, in a pretty blouse and slender heels, her light brown hair tied back. Suddenly I found myself thinking I liked her. She provoked... unusual thoughts. Thoughts I wasn't used to.

Without being told, the students rose to greet her.

“Good morning, Marina-sensei!” the class chorused.

She surveyed them critically, and her gaze settled on me.

“Ikari, why are you covered in chalk?!” she demanded. “Couldn't you at least clean yourself up?”

I could clean you up, Sensei... Too bad I'm an ordinary maniac, not a sex maniac.

No, stop. Those weren't my thoughts. I didn't normally think that way. Women aroused me no more than chairs did. Sure, desires sometimes arose, but I'd never experienced anything this overwhelming. Must be the foreign body. It kept reacting the way it always had. Hormones doing their work. I'd have to fight them.

“Sorry, Marina-sensei! I fell. It won't happen again!” I rattled off, only afterward realizing I'd come to attention and spoken without consciously deciding what to say. Still running on old reflexes, eh, Ikari? Even better. I wouldn't have to imitate you every second.

“Sit down! And tuck in your shirt!” she ordered. I obeyed. “We have a test today. I hope you haven't forgotten. Hitomi-chan, pass out the papers.”

A girl with a red bow rose from the desk directly in front of the teacher. Class representative? She was striking: long black hair, a pretty face, large brown eyes, and an air of maturity that made her stand out among the others. Her blouse was worn with a conspicuously open collar.

She was easily the most eye-catching girl in the classroom: confident, grown-up, attractive.

Hitomi-chan. So this was the object of poor, unlucky Ikari's affections. He'd fallen for the most popular girl in class, had he? What a fool.

When her turn brought her to my desk, she leaned over to set down a test sheet, momentarily blocking my view of everything else. An unfamiliar surge of heat ran through me.

An unbearable feeling, powerful in a way I'd never experienced before. A wild impulse to grab her, rip at her blouse, and press a knife against her... Or not a knife? What was wrong with me?! I barely resisted the urge to slap myself. This Ikari had absolutely no self-control.

The lesson began. The students rummaged through their bags and started filling in their answer sheets.

Physics. Right...

What did I remember about physics? Something about an apple falling on some guy's head. And another guy saying something about relativity. Or was that the same guy? To hell with them. I had no intention of studying. The knowledge I'd gained through years of hunting was more than enough for me.

I'd always liked that part of a Sherlock Holmes story in which Holmes turns out not to know that the Earth goes around the Sun. Then he explains that the information is useless to him and he sees no reason to clutter his mind with it. I was the same. I absorbed anything that helped me fit into society and survive, and discarded everything else. Survival was the only thing that mattered.

When you're a virus cell inside society's body, you have to be cunning enough to keep the white blood cells from finding you. That biology lesson had stuck with me.

I'm a cell, I'm a cell,

Just like you, can't you tell?

Nothing different, nothing strange,

Sitting here, taking my test... I sang softly to myself, trying to decipher the scribbles on the page.

What was I supposed to solve here? Formulas, squiggles, numbers, hieroglyphs...

My hand began moving on its own, writing answers and ticking boxes. Hmm. Ikari, doing things without asking me again? So you studied, did you? Of course you did. Boys like you stayed up late memorizing textbooks.

I finished the test in ten minutes, set the sheet aside, and went back to examining my classmates. Well, being a nerd certainly had its advantages.

That boy was struggling so hard his tongue was sticking out. Look at that girl, practically in tears over a problem. And was that the coolest boy in class? Sitting there with his legs crossed, not even bothering to look at the test.

“Yagami, are you planning to hand in a test?” the teacher called.

The boy resentfully dragged the sheet closer. Arrogant little prick. I'd have to improve his face someday.

Moving on. Who was that?

A short-haired girl sat by the window, staring outside. Her test lay at the edge of her desk; either she was ignoring it or she'd finished even faster than me. I couldn't say why, but I didn't like her. She seemed so... empty. And I hated the empty ones. They barely screamed when you cut them. They practically begged to be freed from the burden of living. They didn't fight, depriving me of the pleasure. Even without seeing her face, I knew that sooner or later I'd kill her.

* * *

When the lesson ended, Hitomi collected the answer sheets with a displeased look and handed them to Marina-sensei. At the bell, most of the students left. I lounged in my chair and studied the phone. I urgently needed to understand my new life.

Rio Ikari was boring. Boring and lonely. Almost no messages. An account on the local social network, with a single profile photo. A few dozen notes of varying importance and perhaps ten phone numbers. That was it. He hadn't even installed any games. What did you do in class, Ikari? Stare at Hitomi's back, imagining her naked? Pathetic. I was one of the most successful serial killers in the world, the most wanted criminal in more than twenty countries, and now I'd ended up inside this useless pretty boy.

I'd have lost my mind if I weren't already a psycho. What a miserable life.

I was beginning to regret my fate, even considering a return trip to the roof, when destiny unexpectedly handed me another gift.

A gift in the form of Baku, the very boy Ikari had feared so much.