[ Setsuna is no artist, but he is an idealist, albeit a grittier a sort, a craftsman in his own way. Someone who shapes the future with his sword in the same manner Suzaku does, the man without a face and without a name save for the lie the world knows.

But a lie, as they both know, can do great good for the sake of all.

Setsuna returns the smile, warily, yet makes an effort nonetheless to show the good will he's been granted. ]

You remind me of him. [ His eyes flick downward, briefly, then back up again. ] There's blood on your hands, but there's a gentleness as well.

[ He steps closer. ]

I would like to know you better, someday.