Ok, this is my first time trying out a fic in any category other than FMA that isn't a crossover. Despite my lack of experience with this particular anime, I've had this idea playing in my mind ever since the tenth episode or so, and that was about three months ago. Since then the idea's continued to grow and refine itself and it's gotten to the point that if I put this off anymore those scary dreams of my muse stabbing me with a calligraphy pen will come back. Hence, I'm going to write it, and I'd really appreciate any criticism (constructive or otherwise) that you can give me on it. Flames along with their respective flamers are welcomed with open arms.
Obscurecer vida
They tell us we shouldn't exist. They tell us we were an unfortunate mistake. They tell us we should just lay down and die. And if their words aren't enough, their actions are. I don't remember a time when I was accepted. A time that I wasn't hunted down just because I was born. And yet despite the fact that I am aware I don't belong here, I continue to live. Why? Because I'm not supposed to. It's the very fact that I shouldn't that I feel a irrepressible need to continue living. I suppose it is similar to that twisted law of nature that states when someone tells you not to do something, despite whether or not it's in your own best interest, it sparks the need to do just that. Doing so may lead to disgust, pain, or even death, but to not do so will simply torment you and drive you insane until you either give in or die. Nether option is good, and once you are told you can only wish you had not, because now you have to make your choice. Perhaps it is precisely because we as the Blade Children have been labeled "inhuman" that we can all see this so clearly. We can observe the humans living their lives completely unaware of each others existence. In their small world there is only routine and normalcy. When they are forced to make a decision like this it rarely makes much consequence either way. no harm is majorly done. With us it is always a choice between killing or being killed. Running so you can live another day or stay and fight. If you let your curiosity rule you, you die. That fact is final. Perhaps that is why we all know that each day may be our last. And yet we keep the foolish hope of every human. The hope that there is a way out. Something we may have missed. And despite the impossibility of it, the altogether unlikely hood that there's even a chance, we keep hoping. And the more we hope, the less we think about our imminent destruction, and wonder if keeping this hope may in fact be the very thing that destroys us.
We may be doomed, but despite this we live on. And we will continue living due to these perverse laws of nature that govern us all.
"What are you doing back there? The Hunter is catching up to us! You can space out later! Just run!" The urgent voice of my companion penetrates my thoughts and I once again rejoin the land of the living, for however long it may provide room for me.
"Coming," I shout back and continue on with my run, moving as fast as I am able.
Fin