[ Casval doesn't take it as a rejection. If anything, he's in full agreement (full denial of how cruelly he pinned the boy, how viciously he snarled in his ear) that he finds himself nodding in agreement before he can stop himself. ]

Some people can. [ His own tone is sad, when he says this. Empathetic, a rarity for the Captain. Sorrowful, for that sort of existence. His heart responds to Banagher's pouring out, shedding some of its harder layers in turn. ] Some people get by with just shreds. Table scraps, because it's all they know. All they have, in this world. It's a pitiful scenario, but even with your time on this Earth being so short, Banagher, I'm sure you know that life can be terribly unkind and unfair.

[ Banagher's apology just gets another shake of his head. There's nothing to be sorry for, in his view. Who in their right mind could even begin to piece this together? But he knows one thing for sure, the thing he doesn't voice to Banagher aloud.

In the memory, in the span of that volatile moment, they were enemies. Banagher Links was his enemy, someone he fought but wanted to reacquire, like some sort of possession. It disturbs him and intrigues him all at once. He wants to know more. Has to know more. ]

I want to understand, too. That's why... I'm throwing myself into the crux of the conflict. The more that happens, the more I'm beginning to understand. Even if it leads down a path to ruin—no, in spite of that, I must keep walking.

[ Casval glances up, and though Banagher's eyes are not present to meet, they may as well be for the insistence of his gaze. Boring through the mirror. Into Banagher, through this mysterious connection. ]

Nothing has changed since the piano room, Banagher. My goals remain the same. And if you'll forgive me the echo, once again, I invite you to come with me, but this time for a very different purpose.

Because you are part of my memories, and in understanding you, I will better understand myself.