[The same thing Dimitri told him - "you're my dearest friend" - yet Byleth had done nothing to achieve it from his own efforts. There was no way to describe the complex tangle of emotions this evoked in him, though. He lacked the words.]

You and Dimitri are quick... to claim friendship with me. [his words were slow, clearly trying to organise his thoughts as he spoke.] While a part of me is happy to so easily gain friends, I... don't feel deserving of it. It was the Other Byleth who put in the effort to befriend you, and who succeeded. I'm still learning how to speak to my peers, and how to smile. I haven't yet made a friend from my own efforts.

[He only knew how to interact with people who were either clients, fellow mercenaries, or enemies to neutralise on the battlefield. In those scenarios, the flowchart of conversation was very simple and easy to follow. This had no flowchart.]

The whole situation... [he paused for a moment, then decided to be blunt:] It makes me feel like I'm an imposter. A poor one.