Ah. Beauregard, at first. And then, when I tried to just ignore her because she was an illusion . . . my old teacher. [Grimacing a little at that.] A very disgusting person. It had me deciding fake Beauregard was better.
At the end, too, that pink-haired person . . . he changed to look like my mother.
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[Byleth, come on.]
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there's a subtle adjustment to her expression, and she looks down at the table.]
I'm in a lot of pain.
But I think everyone is.
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I think so, too. He is a good kid. We saw that for ourselves.
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[softly.]
He saved my life.
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Just more questions.
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[the fingers on her hand not in a sling twitch slightly on the edge of the table, then tense.]
I would trade with him.
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[He. . . reaches out, a little hesitantly, and touches her hand on the table.]
I. . . maybe it is silly to say so now. But I. . . I lost my parents, too.
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she curls her fingers around his, silently, line of sight very much elsewhere, voice dropping low.]
I'm sorry I acted how I did.
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[His voice is soft, understanding. He won't say there's nothing to be sorry for, but. . . ]
I get it. I do.
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Do you remember what happened? Before we all fought.
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[Scratching at his arm a little.]
You saw me - they drove me a little crazy with all of that.
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[...]
But I don't remember anything happening before that.
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Who did you fight.
Rupert said he faced someone he knew.
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At the end, too, that pink-haired person . . . he changed to look like my mother.
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I'm sorry.
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I regret that I couldn't save his life.
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Everyone.
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[But he says that gently, too.]
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[...
a little part of her expression crumbles, heartbreak peeking through.]
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It isn't all on your shoulders, either.
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