freedom is a foreign concept to you.
for your entire life, at least a thousand years time, you've been told what to do, when to do it, how to do it, you are a sword and you are meant for violence and destruction and you have no choice but to bend to your master's will. (or not bend, as that would make you have an incredibly faulty design and that is something that you do not have.)
one would expect life to be in solitude as a weapon, you were brought into this world in the same year as munechika mikazuki, beautiful and radiant and good. anytime your master wouldn't call on either of you to fight in his name, the two of you spent your time by each other's side. as youths, you were essentially attached at the hip. you loved mikazuki, he was enchanting and sweet and affectionate and you remember laying in the courtyard of your master's estate, hand in mikazuki-dono's, staring up at the clouds rolling by.