The TW Network
Soul Edge Fighters
Fighter ID:
Password
Age
24
Blood Type
A
Height
5'6'
Nickname
Snow Flower
Weight
114lbs
Birthplace
Unknown (Raised in Japan)
Fighting Style(s)
Shinden Tsushima-ryu Battoujyutsu
Weapon(s)
Ugetsu Kageuchi (Iai sword hidden in an umbrella)
Relations
No family. Her master, who raised her, died as well.

Games
SoulCalibur 3 / SoulCalibur III
Playstation 2
SoulCalibur 3: Arcade Edition / SoulCalibur III: Arcade Edition
Arcade
SoulCalibur 4 / SoulCalibur IV
PlayStation 3
SoulCalibur: Broken Destiny
Playstation Portable
SoulCalibur 6 / SoulCalibur VI

Storyline
Soul Edge
Soul Calibur 3
And when one have mastered the secrets of this way,
a flower is nothing particular.
-"Fushikaden," Zeami Motokiyo

It was obvious from her appearance that she was not a native of Japan. She had skin as white as the purest snow, glossy black hair, a starkly chiseled face, and her eyes were the deep blue of the night sky.

As a young girl, she was shunned by those around her--she was looked upon with disdain because of her appearance. Having no family to turn to, and exposed to hateful words and violence, she gradually closed her heart to those around her. Eventually, she ran away from her home.

Young and alone, she wandered to a city where a man took her in. The man's kindness gradually opened the girl's tightly-sealed heart. He named her Setsuka--Snow Flower.
Before she knew it, she had come to smile at this beautiful name. Her caretaker worked in the region as a bodyguard. He taught Setsuka the battou technique he used to protect his patrons--the art of fighting from the draw. It became a way for her to protect herself, but it was the joy she felt when he praised her that made her to devote herself to her training.

Eventually, Setsuka grew into a woman of stunning beauty. Some still looked upon her with cold eyes, but she learned to ignore them and let nothing trouble her. Modest as it was, she managed to settle into a fulfilling life.

One day, the man entrusted a letter to her. The letter's destination was far away, and it would take her many months to travel there and back.

Seeing her uneasy look, the man smiled and reassured her, "There is nothing to fear. This place will always be here for you. Go without worry..."

After a long journey, Setsuka finally found the man to whom the letter was addressed. The old martial artist ran a dojo in a small village. He asked Setsuka many times if she would stay and train there, but she refused his invitation and journeyed home.

Upon her return, she was shocked to find the man lying on the floor, grievously injured. Although he would not reveal how he received his wounds, she was certain that he had lost in a duel. His injuries would prevent him from wielding a sword ever again.

Nevertheless, the man tried to behave as he always had, but Setsuka could not hide her sadness and concern. His lessons, however, grew evermore strict and demanding.
On the other hand, he also showered her with overwhelming love, something she had never experienced until then. Their modest lifestyle could not afford luxuries, yet still he bought her an elegant, long-sleeved kimono. Wearing such a beautiful dress for the first time, Setsuka blushed under the man's approving smile. She found her feelings for him grow stronger than she ever thought possible.

It was not fondness for him as a father, nor was it reverence to him as her master of martial arts--it would not be until many years later, after his death, that she would come to recognize the delicate, tender feelings that had taken hold in her heart.

Visiting his grave, she recalled the words he had spoken to her on his deathbed.

"I did not teach you this art for the purpose of revenge...One who lives by the sword harbors no regret."
His fateful fight had been the most exciting moment of his life. He taught her the battou technique only because he wanted her to carry on the art. He wanted her to live freely, unbound by hate or fear. Before his death, he told her his opponent's name...Heishiro Mitsurugi.

Strangely, she shed no tears when her master passed away. Only later would she come to realize her feelings and finally understand what it meant to fall in love.

Her teacher had not wished for her to live a life bound by the shackles of revenge, but she could not be stopped. With undying love in her heart, she set out on a journey of loneliness and sorrow. Now that she had lost the only bond she had ever known, there was nothing in this world for her to fear...

Setsuka's target was a wandering swordsman who challenged swordsmen throughout the land, searching for a way to defeat the Tanegashima rifles. No one had seen him in Japan since he had crossed the sea several years before in search of a powerful swordsman by the name of Nightmare. She had few clues to go on, but she was sure that if she tracked down Nightmare, she would eventually find Mitsurugi.

Armed with an oilpaper umbrella containing a concealed blade and wearing the kimono that her teacher had left to her, her appearance was that of a beautiful goddess of war dressed in bewitching robes of mourning.
α Patroklos
Student
Patroklos met Setsuka in Istanbul and she taught him iaido swordplay. α Patroklos's moveset reflects this.
Soul Calibur IV
Setsuka crossed the sea to the continent on the other side. With surprisingly little difficulty, she picked up on the trail of her master's killer, Heishiro Mitsurugi. It seemed the man had left stories in literally every single town he passed through, and now he was making his way west for a showdown with Nightmare, just as he had years before.

But one thing displeased Setsuka. Those whom she told of her quest for vengeance all told her the same thing. "Give it up! You're no match for that man." Indeed, the rumours surrounding Mitsurugi defied reason. Not only had he never lost a duel, but in wartime, he would offer his services as a mercenary, deliberately joining outnumbered forces in order to face as many foes as possible.

"No matter," Setsuka thought. If Mitsurugi was looking for strong opponents, all the better for her; she would happily rise to the challenge. If one thing still made her uneasy, it was that she would have to surpass her master to overcome Mitsurugi. The blade that was her master's legacy always found its target; she felt confident in that. But had she surpassed him? Setsuka could never know that for sure.

"Then I must become stronger," she thought.

And so she did. By putting faith in herself, Setsuka was putting faith in her master as well, and gradually her cloudless conviction translated into peerless skill with a blade. Each slash took her a step closer to the divine speed her aster must have once sought.