Envy. L thinks I envy him, that I wish to possess a quality of his, or am annoyed that he is the undisputed leader of a group of people who behave according to his will.
Is he really the genius that others like to paint him with their flattery words? It seems quite unbelievable that someone who is supposed to be so intelligent would come out with the most absurd nonsense I have ever heard. Perhaps his intellectual capacity lies in his cunning and ability to manipulate others, convincing them he has what it takes to be a detective.
Clearly, and you know this, Mazzaroth, I have no such feeling. I have no desire to exploit child prodigies at will so as to turn them into beings similar to myself, whom I can use for any of my dubious moral purposes.
I do not entirely understand his purpose in this orphanage, because the project is not enough to justify his stay, his activity and the resources Watari supplies him with. Alongside this, there must surely be something else because one cannot be sure of L's success as an investigator. I've thought about it, and the only reason I can think of is that he brings money to Watari's coffers, which would explain why he remains here and the director's confidence in him.
Moreover, if he has shown that he can earn capital easily, Watari has no problem buying him what he needs since it is technically his money.
I have not been able to gather information on how the facts actually stand because I have not even tried to do so, honestly. On the one hand, I don't want to use my time searching senselessly for explanations on this matter, which I cannot change in any way. The only way I can stop him is to tie him up and block his movements, which would cast a not-too-pleasant light on me, which I must avoid. On the other side, however, a discomfort unlike any other has made its way in. A discomfort that keeps me from socialising with those around me, getting more details about L, and carrying out some kind of research on his account.
After yet another discussion with L yesterday, I took refuge in Lex's room again, not knowing where else to go to avoid being found, as my grade class was occupied. I didn't ask permission from any of its owners, though I should have done so out of respect and because Anuj was taken aback to see me still there, cowering in the corner.
He did not seem bothered by my temporary occupation, but neither did he seem thrilled that I had decided to establish my base in their room. He just told me to ask or, at least, warn them next time before basing myself in there, and I promised him I would.
Obviously, I am not keeping that oath, as I have returned here, unseen. I hope that it is Lex who enters the room before anyone else because he is the only one who is genuinely comfortable with the idea of me hiding there.
I no longer sleep with them for obvious reasons. It seems unfair to them, as I am someone they cannot feel comfortable with, not knowing me fully. Lex reiterated that I was not a nuisance, although the truth was visible on the faces of his friends. Finally, he settled for lending me his cushion so that at least I had somewhere to rest my head, and that was useful because the canteen benches have never been so comfortable. The only flaw was that the French windows were covered from the outside, so I didn't get a chance to look at the garden while trying to fall asleep. I would have also gone outside if I had had the chance, but trying would have meant making a crazy mess.
I know I come across as a stubborn person who exaggerates or magnifies what happened, but I prefer to communicate my position openly. Besides, I have no real problem setting the alarm a few minutes before Watari's arrival.
I am not willing to compromise because it never works in the long run, as in this case with Anuj.
The feeling I developed yesterday guides my actions more than logic. I don't like it when it happens because I am sure that I am not this person. I don't even want to name it because it only amplifies it. It feeds it and leads to meta-emotions and an obsession with hypothetical unrealistic alternatives that would have spared them such an ending.
Nothing else was possible in a situation like that. No other option. I know this because if there had been, I would have put it into practice, and I would not have had to separate myself from those who should have had a minimum of parental responsibility and interest in me, as well as, above all, from the one who seemed to have developed it.
In order to have another choice, there should also have been a completely different condition, but as it did not exist, I could have not dono otherwise. I do not repent because my parents deserve it. I only have one big regret, which is not getting out of my room because it would have saved him a lot of pain. He didn't deserve it. I avoid thinking about what happened to him that day, and even those that followed, because it was not my intention to hurt him in any way, not after all he did for me.
In any case, it was a circumstance with only one way out. So why does my mind go round and round when I am convinced of my words? Does it think it will magically find a non-existent solution to a problem I have buried completely? What does it hope to gain from continuing to torture me with the exact same question?
I know I am my own mind, but these thoughts do not belong to me. I am trying to move on, but these questions are blocking me from doing so. I tell myself that if I had not called them but simply left, things would have been different, but that is not true.
I know where we lived, I know what kind of place it was and the people there. There was always someone standing guard. He would have seen me and taken me back to my house. I was the only child on that street, so it was easy to identify who my parents were. It was enough if I could convince him that I was going to the grocer's and not get into trouble, which was difficult considering my muteness, the fact that I was a little brat and didn't have a penny in my pocket to use.
I won't add too many details about my past because I don't want it to be easily identifiable, but I just want to say that running away was not feasible. Even what I did risked not being practicable, but somehow, after several attempts, I managed to convince them. Honestly, until they arrived, I had the impression that they would not show up, but they did, and now, I find myself at Wammy's House.
I realised, however, that writing down my dilemma helps this despondency more than just thinking about it because asking myself questions and personifying my consciousness allows me to emotionally distance myself from what I am thinking about. Until now, I haven't externalised it in any way, so it's a big step to stop mulling it over, even if silencing people comes easier than silencing something I can't look in the face, since it's part of my head.
However, with L, it's different. L is a person, but I can't shut him up because it's not what he says that holds my actions against me.
It is his alias. A simple sound that I never thought I would have to hear in my whole life. A fact that, before he made his appearance here, I didn't even know whether to consider positive or negative since, on the one hand, it meant leaving everything behind, while, on the other, abandoning the idea that I could once again be the only identity he knows.
Now I realise it was something positive. I don't want to hear it again, and I am annoyed by its reappearance in my life, especially since I strongly doubt that it is his real name, from which he cannot detach himself at all.
It is not a simple letter. It must either be the initial of a nickname he uses, or it has a similar pronunciation to L, and, therefore, he has decided to shorten it, which makes the situation much worse.
He has to change it if he wants things to improve, even a little. I cannot change my past, although an irrational part of me tends to want to. The rational one knows that it is useless to brood over it and that I should think about something else, about the present.
But it is in the same timeline as a little boy who refers me back to yesterday. My reasonable part is incapable of finding a way to take such detail out of the equation, which only feeds my unreasonable part, which, as a result, does not make me act most reasonably and methodically possible.
I have no control over his actions, however. Neither over Watari's, to be able to guide him to his transfer.
I have said that I want to try to push L to do it himself - to ask to be taken to another facility - but it is difficult to persuade a person to do so when one has a mission and considers someone else's aversion to being a mere childish rivalry. I cannot even ruin his activity, because I would turn out to be the weakest link and thus be easily disposable.
Killing him is out of the question. Not that I ever considered it an option, but my speech seems to indicate it; therefore, it is best to make it explicit that I have no homicidal tendencies in case someone should find these papers.
What remains for me to do is to be the one to leave.
If I put aside the slight feeling of belonging I have developed towards Wammy's House and certain people in it, thus removing the emotional variable, which hinders logical reasoning, it is the only viable solution.
I can always start over, as I have already done, and find other people with whom I can establish an almost stable and fictitious relationship, which I can consider 'friendship'. I never promised anyone, not even myself, that this building would be my residence until I turned eighteen; therefore, I am not hurting anyone with my decision.
It is the best way for me to continue my life without finding myself thinking back to that day every time I hear his name.
It is also the right choice from Rae and Ayla's point of view because their future is more important than our bond. I don't trust L, and I don't think he will do anything good, but I am sure they will jump out of the plane in time before it crashes and causes a disaster.
They are extremely capable people and perfectly able to understand their situation, even if I went against them. It was due to frustration because I do not doubt at all that they considered their position fully and their choices.
What's more, they know details about the project and L that I am completely unaware of. They can evaluate more efficiently what to do. I would have liked to be included, but as I said, I cannot control the actions of others.
However, I hope that L fails in his endeavour because I don't want him to become a world-famous detective and be all over the place, but that it doesn't directly affect Rae and Ayla.
In any case, I didn't expect to have to change the setting and I wanted, in part, to continue to tell the story of this place. There is something special about the Wammy's House that is difficult to put into words and that only time can show. It is not just the fact that the most capable kids are here. It is something else more abstract.
As much as I don't feel part of it, the sense of community is quite strong, especially near the holidays.
It may be that I have not spent much time in it, and having so many people under one roof is quite unusual - hence the slight alienation - but it is surprising to see so many people interacting genuinely and having an almost normal life, despite where they are.
I don't know if other orphanages are on the same level because the human-to-resource ratio has always worried me - that the Wammy's House has managed to fully meet, from all points of view -, but it doesn't matter so much. If I go back to basics, any place with frozen food in the freezer instead of things that shouldn't be there is habitable.
Besides, by looking at everything from another perspective, I will have more to tell and will be able to explain the process of my assimilation in a new, similar, but different context.
I had better get ready to talk to Watari. I already asked Roger yesterday to tell him that I needed an appointment. I didn't tell him the topic, but I guess he thinks it's L.
I didn't need any real preparation, because I had been thinking all night about the words I was going to pronounce, the way I was going to say them, the authority that would accompany them and the arguments in my favour because I couldn't rule out the possibility that Watari would have tried to dissuade me in some way. I didn't know why he would have done that since not having me around would have allowed L to work quietly, but if not organic, he would have had to feign some displeasure.
To be honest, mine were not really arguments but indirect threats. Arguments had the potential to backfire, whereas threats did not exactly, at least in that case.
If he had not agreed, not only would I have obstructed the little investigator's work, but I would have worsened my academic conduct to the point of having to be removed from the programme on which Wammy's House was based. I would have received what I wanted, albeit with a few extra steps and public humiliation. Of course, despite my performance, he might have decided to keep me, but that would have created a general debate about the morality of his actions, considering that others could not stay there for that same reason.
Whichever way he would have had me take, the result would have remained the same; therefore, my probability of starting the relocation process shortly was twenty-seven per cent, while my probability of moving in the long run, counting a margin of five months, was seventy-five per cent, considering the information I had at that exact minute.
It was not a higher percentage, as I could have injured myself, which would have prolonged my stay, as I would not have been able to implement anything, but I would have been concentrating on one problem at a time and physical health would've been the most urgent. Besides, I would've had to find the ideal situations to show myself as less skilled. I was sure I would have found them. The question was whether they would have convinced him.
On the other hand, it was more than double, as I would have backed it up with improper behaviour if I had seen within two and a half months that the initial plan was not working. The fact always remained that I did not want to put others in danger or hurt them. I would have had a rather narrow margin for action; consequently, it could not have been a perfect hundred.
However, I had not taken into account an extremely important variable. I tended not to consider it relevant, so it was obvious that I would have not taken it into account. It had been rather inconsiderate of me because if I had not overlooked it, I would have realised that my percentages were way off.
I had not seen L that day. There had not been the slightest shadow of his presence in the library or near his room. I had avoided going back downstairs, so I had assumed he was there, without going to check. I remembered having had, seeing him nowhere and for a brief moment, a feeling that he had vanished.
I had decided not to give the matter too much weight since I could have interpreted his absence in my vicinity as him having listened to my request to leave me alone.
However, the reality was another, and I realised that when Ayla approached me, as I was only a few steps away from Watari's office, close to the actions I should have taken at that moment so as not to implement them subsequently and regret it years later in the light of certain information.
I didn't expect Ayla to come and talk to me, not so soon at least and much less to ask me about the boy I hated most inside the orphanage, but she did, grabbing me by the sleeve of my shirt.
"Ethe..."
She pronounced only my alias, but her tone surprised me, for she was sad, although her expression indicated no trace of such feeling.
"Have you seen L, by any chance?"
It took me a while to pay attention to the content of that query. I was too focused on finding confirmation of what I had heard on her face, but it was impossible for me, which meant only one thing, and I didn't like to know that she felt uncomfortable showing herself to be truthful about how she felt around me.
I didn't think our brief quarrel was any different from others that had happened in the past, besides the fact that it was triggered directly by an external person and not by a simple disagreement about a fact; so, I didn't understand what had triggered such a reaction in her.
I wondered if it was L who had told her to behave in a certain way because he had put one of his assumptions about me into her head, confirming it with evidence manipulated to his liking, or had told her that my reaction to X and T would, in some way, have meant a certain trait of my personality to be taken into account.
I didn't know, and that ignorance of mine put me at a disadvantage because it meant that he had more influence than I did over Rae and Ayla's opinions, but, at the same time, I was convinced that they weren't so easily swayed.
"Ethe?"
I quickly retraced the day, realising how quiet it had been. I was relieved to know that L hadn't radically altered my existence in there to the point of developing an obsessive feeling towards him, so much so that I had to know where he was or what he was doing every second, and even happy that Ayla had come to meet me before I could abandon the institution, but I couldn't show it openly.
It was true that it would only have been temporary happiness and the first seed of regret, but at that moment, I was oblivious to that fate.
"Why do you ask?"
"Someone told me she saw him leave the library after you yesterday. You were the last person he interacted with, apparently." She replied.
"I went in for a moment and came out immediately, as soon as I saw him. I doubt I was the very last."
I didn't want to be associated with the reason why he had left because, of course, those who were part of his project would have turned against me as soon as they knew that I was the one who had driven away a person who thought so highly of them and in whom Watari placed foolish trust.
I didn't know how many people saw the director as a role model, but it was general knowledge that there was a kind of admiration for him, considering his previous employment and what he dabbled in from time to time.
In any case, I wanted to maintain my routine without also having to take into account various resentments from those who had lost their mental clarity for a few too many hours to see that the situation they were placed in was anything but in the realm of possibility.
"Did you ask Watari?"
"Yes, and he said we needn't worry." She replied. "We also went to Roger, but he told us to go to Watari after we'd already been there, so it was no use."
My predictions were correct: if that kid had been a failure, Watari would have felt embarrassed and tried to avoid the subject. Nothing was more satisfying than being right, but I couldn't waste time congratulating myself. L was out of the game, which meant I could become part of it again.
"Are you sure you've looked everywhere?" I assumed a more interested tone to the matter, without of course exaggerating, as that would have aroused suspicion.
"Unless you know of some secret passage, yes. His room is empty, although his computer is there."
I avoided correcting her and pointing out that the thing was no longer his but the orphanage's. I did not tell her because imagining the pedestal on which she placed L, it would have cost me the chance to get my hands on it.
Not drawing her attention to such a small detail was not only my selfish need to have something that L had been able to receive in a short time, but also another sign of how far our friendship was from the one perceived at the moment.
"We checked the storage room, the garden, the basement, the shed where Watari puts his garden tools... Rae even asked him if he was at the park, but he told us we know the rules."
I was surprised that she didn't use X, since I had expected more loyalty to the new identities offered by Grandmaster L, but I had, however, to remind myself that she was the one who had told me that this would not have changed anything and was, in part, proving it to me. It hadn't even come out unnaturally or forced; therefore, I had no reason to believe she was restraining herself.
"Do you think he was transferred?" I advanced the question before she could pose it to me.
"At this point, yes. In the end, you know, it's normal for someone to come and leave if they don't prove fit or feel comfortable."
I still couldn't conceive that note of sincere sadness I heard in her voice because it was unlikely that she had formed such a strong bond that she considered L her friend. I hypothesised that the defeat I perceived was because she was no longer participating in a personal project of that magnitude and with that objective.
"I thought this time would be slightly different, but it happens. Life here is always unpredictable."
"Maybe he has errands outside the orphanage."
I didn't believe my words and fervently hoped it wasn't true, but I wanted to suppress that perceptible feeling in her voice, even at the cost of giving her hope about a person I wished would never return.
"Rae considered it too, but Wammy's House doesn't represent the outside world and hardly anyone would listen to an eight-year-old boy." She said. "Since Watari is not with him, it's even more unlikely. If it had been his voice, there would have been a small chance, but he is here. Plus, he doesn't have his own computer and I don't think he has the necessary tools to work remotely and without revealing his identity."
"Is the project operational?" I asked.
"No, L works more on his own than with us, so I expect he has something of his own that he doesn't include us in."
"What do you guys deal with? What has he given you to do?"
"At the moment, absolutely nothing. He told us that it will take some time before he assigns us tasks to do, as he still has to structure it so that it has no weak and attackable points."
Her sincerity puzzled me. On the one hand, she answered me as if it was no longer important and she could share any details with me, while, on the other hand, she continued to use the present tense, and this denoted a hope or belief that it would have been resumed in the future, which was contrary to what said before.
"Don't you think he left the facility temporarily in order to make the necessary arrangements?"
"Same thing as before: he would have needed Watari to turn to people of his interest, who could assist him."
I nodded, determined to truncate the subject. Each of my theories would have had the same answer since, indeed, L was a child; thus, he had little chance of succeeding in his venture without an adult by his side. I imagined that even advancing the idea that there was another person and not Watari would have had a negative response, namely that L would not have discussed such a matter with someone outside since they could not be trusted.
"In any case, I can now concentrate more on reaching Rae." She continued, hinting at a rather forced smile.
"How does she find herself among the Apex?" I pointed with a nod to the main hall to signal her to move from there, and Ayla understood immediately.
"She only spoke to Daralis, as the other two are always on their own." She replied.
Some claimed they did it because they thought they were superior, but they gave me no such impression. They seemed to consider each other's presence sufficient and did not need to have many interactions to satisfy their sense of belonging.
"What did she say?"
"She wasn't surprised... Not many are, actually. She was in high spirits, though, and even hugged her."
The more the talk returned to standard topics, the more L seemed like a danger escaped and a person ready to become just a memory. I kept telling myself that I could return to my typical day, even if it had no fixed tasks. Having tasks to do in a certain order left me no room for action and locked me in a box, bounded by a feeling of unease due to the fear of not being able to complete them, accumulating the perception of being incompetent.
I decided to ignore the strange feeling of discomfort that the discussion of the Apex made me feel because that was what many aspired to. I didn't want to risk letting my opinion on the matter show again, causing another conflict with Rae.
I wanted to avoid hearing her say that, contrary to what I had said about L not being welcomed, that place belonged to him more than to me since I wasn't interested in improving myself and was doing the bare minimum to stay there.