Useless Notes: Thanks for all the reviews you gave- they really helped out a lot, so thanks.
Again, please don't forget to review- you don't know how much those things mean to authors.
And again, I don't care what you have to say about this, as long as it's gonna help me in my future stories.
Dedications: This story here's dedicated to my brother. He challenged me to do something about Koga, so here it is.
Anyway, this is done in the same format as the first one, with Koga of the Bount remembering the past two hundred years of his life.
Disclaimer: If Bleach were mine, Ikkaku and Yumichika would get more face time.
Okay, enough with the babbling already- on with the fic.
Enjoy!
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A Two Hundred-Year Old Pain
Being the last person of a proud, noble race isn't entirely a good thing.
It never is.
There's this hollow feeling inside of you- a deep, dark hole that can only be filled with the memories of the people you grew up with.
The people you knew your whole life.
The people you're willing to die for.
It's never a good feeling.
Lord knows how many times I've caught myself remembering the last two hundred or so years of my life.
The heaviness of the burden is so intense, that I often find myself wishing I were dead instead.
Of course I'd know the feeling better than anyone.
My name is Koga; the sole survivor of the Bount race.
The Bount are an immortal people. We don't die until we are killed. If not, we go on living.
See, now that's the sad fact.
Six generations.
That's how long I've lived.
In those six generations, all I've seen is Death. I've witnessed the births of eighteen relatives, and the worst part is, I was with them when they died. Most of them didn't even reach twenty years.
They were just beginning to see the world.
It's just that the world didn't want to see them.
We were seen as evil persons with some sort of magic preventing us from dying like all ordinary people.
They wanted to test that part.
It's because people tend to fear the things that they don't understand, and when they do, they want to get rid of the fear, so they strike the cause of their fear.
Us.
So, they came and tried to finish us off, but luckily, they didn't succeed. So, they left us alone.
But not out of respect.
It was out of fear.
Either way though, we were satisfied and contented and went on with our lives. It was then that I learned that we weren't normal after all.
We were experiments.
Failed experiments, I heard.
That was why we were hiding. Our creators were looking to exterminate us, because that's all failed experiments are good for.
Extermination.
I never learned the full details, because by then, our creators finally found us to kill us all.
By now, I've already gotten so used to seeing Bounts die everyday, so the massacre of my people was just about as normal as thunder on a stormy day and didn't shock me as much.
But that didn't mean I was immune to the horror and the pain.
The looks on their faces, the cries from their throats.
They were still as painful as before.
They still are.
I tried to stop them, but they didn't listen. They just kept on attacking.
Kept on killing.
Somehow, I survived although something tells me I wish I hadn't.
But that's what we Bount do.
We go on living and leave the past behind us, no matter how painful it sounds.
After that incident, I swore to get revenge.
Kariya answered my prayer and launched an attack against the very same people who killed everyone I knew.
But that didn't turn out so well either.
Soon, each of my comrades fell at the hands of our enemies. When the dust had cleared, I was the only one left standing.
Me. Alone.
Cain.
Kariya.
Up until now, I can still see their faces, hear their cries for help, but there's nothing else I can do except carry that burden.
Because that's what we Bount do.
We go on living.
I just wish it hadn't been me.
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Footnotes: Yeah, it's slightly longer than my first story, but I do hope this one made more sense than "Howling".
Please review!