Masshiro

Thirdborn of Arrancar and Ichimaru, Masshiro was born like many of her siblings - unable to feel anything but the bloodlust surging in her veins.

Her father looked at her sadly, as if she were a failed experiment. "You do not have a heart either," he said. Was he expecting something else?

Masshiro blinked at him. "That is fine," she said. After all, one didn't need a heart to kill efficiently, and that was what she wanted to do. Her blood boiled.

Her siblings were cowards. They left the Forest as soon as they could fly, seeking battle in the continent. But Masshiro knew that in truth they left because they were weak - that they could not stand to be looked at like the monsters and aberrations they were, that they sought a place where they would be judged by their battle skill, not their origins.

Cowards, Masshiro thought. She would not be driven from her home so easily.

There was plenty of killing to be done here, after all.


Masshiro became a proficient killer, guarding Rakraēt's borders. She was respected and feared. None approached her to converse with her.

This was fine. Fear and respect were desirable qualities. I am content, Masshiro thought to herself. A day of killing; a night of sleep. Life was... good.

And then she came home to the Forest one day to find her father's eyes gleaming with excitement.

"What is it?" she asked.

He turned to her, surprised, as if he hadn't noticed her arrive. "One of your sisters," he said, then stopped. It took effort from Masshiro to get a coherent account out of him.

The story was this: a sister. Her name was Ristaya, and she had a heart. She felt. She was not war-hungry. Ristaya was special.

Masshiro never knew her. She never paid attention to her siblings; they were never as interesting as her foes. And yet, as she heard the news, something stirred in her that she'd never felt before; dark, and sour, and wanting.

As if she wanted to feel. How could she long for something she never had? Nonsense.

That day her father lost the meagre level of interest he had in her. Masshiro spent her days killing beasts. She never came home since.

She discovered she did not need to sleep. This was fine.

But she was no longer content.