Masuna

They wield a blade sharp enough to split a falling raindrop, but the thing Masuna protects most fiercely is a small clay pot of berry jam. Before Minamoto’s rallying cry echoed through the plazas of Waterfall City, Masuna’s life was measured in simple pleasures: the perfect leaf falling on the stone steps, the smell of rain on the river, and jam spread thick on morning toast. When The Liberator spoke of a world in terror, it wasn't empire or glory that moved Masuna. It was the thought of someone, somewhere, being unable to enjoy their breakfast in peace. They took up their katana that day, but packed the jam pot first. It has been with them through every skirmish and siege, a fragile, sweet-smelling anchor to the quiet life they fight to defend.