Author's note

i have a few things to say before you start to read.

firstly, i am not a native english speaker so the writing may not be top-tier or something like that. forgive me. even tho i use english basically 24/7 on social media, i realised writing a story is completely different, especially if they are long chapters (this one is the shortest. the others are like 3k-6k words? i don't even know, it varies a lot).

then, if you are from italy - la storia è originariamente in italiano, che potete trovare su wattpad ed efp. non so se vi è più comodo leggerla qui, o in inglese, o altro, ma mi sembrava giusto dirvelo, anche perché alcune cose ho dovuto cambiarle per adattarle alla lingua inglese.

it's a diary (+ what happens after the entry), it will have the MC's thoughts, so there will be depressing stuff since we talk about a traumatised kid. this is a general trigger.

for specific triggers - and if you know the Wammy's House lore, you should already know what i am talking about -, i'll put them at the beginning of those chapters.

i must say that this story will be quite long, because it is about several years. i don't mean like 200 chapters, but who knows.

lastly, feedback is greatly appreciated, both good and bad.

that's all, thank you for reading this. take care.

Dear Diary,

Diary? Should I call you that? Sounds pretty basic, doesn't it?

It's something others would do, not that I think Watari (I'm already bringing up someone you don't know, but you'll soon learn who he is) has given others a diary. He knows that writing is a passion of mine and that, in the future, I will become a journalist. He also told me that it is to help me be more organised, as I tend to leave my papers wherever I happen to be.

He thinks I will use these pages to document all the crime stories that interest me, but I am not predictable.

I'm going to do something he would never expect, which is to create an imaginary friend.

Yes, Diary, you're the one. I'm not crazy; I'm pretty reasonable, honestly.

And it's not that I don't have friends. I have enough of them. But I want to have a way to document, to describe the world I see, without the fear of being judged. I trust my best friends, but it's just that we have a certain status of secrecy, you know?

We, the kids at Wammy's House.

It's a pretty hard concept to explain to someone who doesn't live it. If you had a conscience, you'd want to know why and wonder why you're in the hands of a nine-year-old girl in an orphanage, where friendships are limited, according to her.

Parenthetically: I wonder that too... Sometimes, not always, because it's rather pointless to keep dwelling on such a matter when it can't be changed.

Going back to what I said before: firstly, we are not allowed to use our real names, partly because some of us don't know them.

I've been lucky in this regard: I know my name, my real name. I'm not sure I can write it here. People might find this diary, and it's better if we avoid them knowing my real identity.

And that's part of the reason why, in my opinion, it's hard to make friends like out there.

Can you totally trust a person whose name you don't even know? Hardly.

But, yes, without a real person, but a fake name, it's hard to have 100% real friendships. Don't get me wrong, I love the ones I know, and I love my two best friends to death, but there's something that still causes a certain uneasiness in my stomach when I think about our relationship. I get the feeling that if a moment ever came when our backs are against the wall, they would have no problem betraying my trust... It's strange, I know, it's unreasonable, but I can't stop thinking about it.

It has taken on a sad tone quickly, hasn't it? I didn't want that to happen, so let's try and get this wreck back to the surface.

Let me introduce myself, first of all.

I am Ethelinda (people call me Ethe). I'm nine years old, and I think I'm pretty smart for my age, although some kids are ahead of me. We find ourselves challenging each other in school exams. Please note that the school is inside the orphanage, and we are divided according to our abilities and not age, which I think is fair. If you have no competition, you get bored.

In any case, there's not much more to say. Um... I have, as mentioned, two best friends - Rae and Ayla. I've known them for two years, since I ended up here, and we bonded immediately.

We're not exactly on the same level because I'm the worst of the three. It doesn't bother me, although for some people it seems rather hilarious to remind me of that. Especially concerning Ayla because she's a year younger than me (and two years younger than Rae).

They're on roughly equal footing, though I've heard Watari speculate that Rae might be moved to higher levels. On the other hand, Ayla is the best in her grade, but not good enough for the next one. I, in contrast, am average. I don't move up or down, so I'm okay because graduation, however necessary, I'm not interested in receiving it with excellent grades.

There's not much more to say. And it's not because I don't have any ideas, because my head is full of them, but if I want to treat you as a friend, I have to take things slowly, don't you think so?

I have to give you a name, by the way. Diary doesn't suit you. And lately, I've become obsessed with constellations, or what appear to be ones, as well as not. It's a long story and, in parts, complicated, but I can give you that name because you're not something certain, something precise.

You are, nevertheless, an inanimate object that I could quickly forget about, you know. Not because I want to, but my head is all over the place.

To say, I have three dossiers to complete but, the more I think about it, the more I'm undecided whether to classify the various criminals by name, place or crime. All three bring both advantages and not. Also, I need to start working on the next inmates to be released, so I can get a glimpse of the inside of the prison through their eyes.

I got a lot of work to do, Mazzaroth. That's right: you're going to be

Ayla entered our room with that particular force that only she had, and I immediately closed the diary with a snap, pushing it under the pillow.

"Ethe!" She exclaimed in exasperation. "What did I tell you this morning?"

"Um..." I laid my eyes on Rae's empty bed across the room.

I couldn't remember what she'd said; perhaps, because I hadn't really been paying attention. I was more focused on staring at Lex in the back of the canteen talking to his friends. I hadn't heard anything, but it sounded pretty interesting.

"The boy! The one Watari was talking to Roger about! He's here!"

She was pretty pumped up, but I couldn't sense her same joy. She acted as if we didn't live in a place where children came and went like it was nothing, a thought that, at that moment, put a small smile on my lips. She wasn't naive, on the contrary, but that childlike side of her was always there, which was rare in a place like that.

"Okay, you want more competition, but don't put him in awe right away."

"That's the first rule of having a challenge: intimidate your opponent so that you have an unusually fierce attack in response."

"And destroy them because they are not used to maintaining the same level." I finished on her behalf.

She always said this as soon as a person arrived there or someone else entered her circle. She wanted to assert her dominance everywhere. That was why people didn't like to make plans with her. She demanded that everything went the way she wanted it to, and she didn't accept that even the smallest detail was different from the way she had thought them out.

I thought it was just a bragging point because a trait like that made you a strong and respectable person, but I realised long afterwards how destructive it was.

I decided to go down to the main hall with her because otherwise, she would've called Rae on it, and she would've given us the silent treatment for a couple of days for bothering her.

During that time, she was trying to improve every mental skill to the max so she could convince the owner that she deserved the new title. She spent a large number of hours comparing herself to others or doing research.

I thought it was pretty pointless: on the one hand, everyone knew she was the best; on the other hand, it was all about showing off, which I didn't understand.

Why would you ever want to expose yourself?

I wasn't blaming her, I wasn't pointing fingers at her; I was silently judging her and minding my own business. She was considered better than me, so I assumed she knew what she had to do and what was for the best without needing my stupid remarks.

When we arrived downstairs, the little boy was just entering the front door, accompanied hand in hand by Watari. Soon everyone there gathered around him, as they always did.

I stood back for various reasons, but mostly because I didn't want to be there. I kept thinking about my diary and the unfinished sentence. It bothered me. I knew I wasn't neatness itself or precision, but I wasn't willing to leave my friends hanging and abandoned under a pillow.

Watari tried to contain the mess as much as he could and make his way back to his office but managed to do so with little success as the herd followed close behind. After a couple of too many minutes, he emerged on my side, along with the boy. He immediately turned his eyes to me, as I was the only person in his field of vision.

I immediately felt uncomfortable having his big dark eyes on me, observing me. He didn't blink. It was almost a blank stare, although I could tell he was analysing the situation.

I let out a sigh and folded my arms, trying to show him my discomfort, but nothing moved him. It wasn't until Watari turned back to the others that he was forced to do so as well.

"Guys, please." He said in his typical calm tone of voice. "This is L."

An understandable muttering quickly arose, given that it was a bizarre name, and, at that point, I too began to take an interest in the matter, but for a totally different reason. And, even though I didn't know all the facts, I began to feel a slight annoyance.

"Why is his name L?" I asked, as no one seemed willing to put forward the crucial question.

The disdain I felt at that moment was perceptible in my voice, even though it wasn't my intention, but I couldn't contain myself.

Watari looked at me, and the boy did the same, starting to bite his thumbnail.

"I'll explain it better later." He replied. "First of all, I have to let L settle down."

To my ears, the constant repetition of his name was a mockery because he knew the reason for my involvement or, at least, could guess it. I only really cared about one thing, if we weren't counting my future career, and he was literally tearing it up and stomping on it in front of my eyes.

"How old are you?" Alya asked, which diverted the attention I'd drawn to myself for a few seconds.

But not everyone's. He kept looking at me, that little boy. He wouldn't stop, and I should have known that would only be the beginning.