[ It would be both easier and more difficult if Lorenz was only angry, only irritated, and unmistakably at him, with him.

Easier, too, if Lorenz had no understanding of what the fireflies had produced. Of course, he'd recognized his own memory, though hadn't the opportunity to experiment in earnest. Having so recognized, he cannot yet say as much to Lorenz, or indicate that he'd gathered as much from the display. Not while he maintains hope of convincing him that he hadn't seen an actual event from Claude's childhood.

Dwindling though that hope. ]

Is that so... Are you certain that they only show memories?

[ Playing dumb, perhaps. Deflection, maybe. But it's a fair question, isn't it? It's at least possible that some project fiction.

If only Lorenz would humor it. Claude senses that he's delaying the inevitable, and not well. And it's... frustrating. The egregious violation of privacy may not be Lorenz's primary concern, but in the moment, it sure is Claude's. He could pretend the images were fiction, that he had no recollection of such an event. But from the way Lorenz speaks, of the ability and intention to make his guesses, Claude suspects that wouldn't get him far.

For once, Claude, too, sighs. ]

Lorenz... I don't care to explain myself. I can't.

[ Because the display had been invented -- or, because he'd promised his parents those years ago. ]

Honestly, I'd like it if you wouldn't guess.