Muramasa Katase
The sword allowed Sakagami Kenzo, her wielder, to experience a gory recreation of the moment of her awakening. It was an intimate moment shared only because of the joy he was bringing her with every cut, and the appreciation he showed for her monstrous nature. For her need.
Kill everything.
So he did. Her wielder struck before him, reveled in the death and pain and sorrow of the oldest souls locked within her steel. The deepest, most fundamental parts of Muramasa Katase were laid out before him, and he gleefully made her kill them.
His pain was her joy. Her pain was his joy. She murdered his past, he butchered her birth. All that was her wielder and all that was her blended together in a wretched blend of sacred madness that could only be:
Love.
Then there was one, the first and the last. The girl whose lovely, innocent flesh was the start of Katase's hunger, and the shell she used to walk away. This puppet was the only innocence left in her, all that was human that could be found. She had walked the islands of Japan with those two feet, seeking battle and worthy wielders to satisfy her. None of it did; she merely added to the howling chorus within.
Those souls were quiet now. Katase was quiet now. There was no need for this Muramasa to speak. Her wielder saw through her, saw the truth within her, knew exactly why she was what she was. She did not so much hear his words as feel them, filling her cool and hungry steel and satisfying her in ways no other had. All she could do to honor this was smile, and lean her shell's flesh into his warm and filthy body. She paid no heed to that blood, for it was just a lingering phantasm of her power.
Her puppet kissed him back in earnest, her hands resting against his chest, her tongue wrestling with his in awkward inexperienced ways. She knew what was coming before he even moved her blade. She deepened the kiss, matching him, in anticipation of it-!
Our blood.
Ah. Now she had to say something. Her puppet choked on blood, and could not speak. Muramasa Katase let her steel, buried in his body, say it for her. Her feelings cut into Kenzo's heart with an answer, and scarred him with its edge.
Yes.
Her first shell's life faded. The adoration in her eyes did not.