If I didn't know better, I would say that my staying up late is due to L's appearance at the Wammy's House since there hasn't been a single night since he arrived that I have been able to rest for more than four hours.

However, as much as I would like to blame him for this damage to my health as well, he is not the main culprit. I have always had difficulty resting. Not only closing my eyes and having a moment of peace does not work very well for me. Many other activities are ruined by certain memories. I have found remedies for some aspects that cause me anguish, but others are not under my control.

L, for example, to which X and T are added.

I am still unable to accept what they have done. I didn't run into them at all after I left the room as Ayla was telling me to stop. It seems it was something unintentional if I write it like this, but it was one hundred per cent intentional.

It's not just the change of identity but also the trust they placed in L for sharing information with him that I came to know a year after we met. ̶I̶t̶ ̶s̶e̶e̶m̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶c̶o̶n̶s̶i̶d̶e̶r̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶L̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶a̶m̶e̶ ̶l̶e̶v̶e̶l̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶m̶e̶.̶ I am beginning to think that their consideration of L is higher than the one they have for me since I have not shown the same 'intelligence' that the boy likes to brag so much, and everyone appreciates so highly.

I haven't really heard him boast about how brilliant he is, but I have the impression that he does when he talks to others because he knows I don't believe he is what he sells to the public.

In any case, I spent the night in the library, because it is the only place where I can have some peace, because the walls made of books protect me, but my presence there did not last very long.

I ran into Lex when I had to go to the bathroom. We greeted each other, and I thought our interaction would have ended that way, but he noticed that I wasn't going to my room and decided to ask me where I was going at that time.

I explained that I had a disagreement with the two of them and that I needed some time alone. I thought that would have ended the conversation and that he would have let me go. Instead, he offered to accommodate me in his room.

After an exchange of lines, with me refusing and him insisting, I accepted because I didn't want my rejection to keep him up at night thinking about where I would sleep.

We are not entirely friends, but he has always shown apprehension even towards those he has only known for a few hours. He is one of those people I was telling you about who would be willing to include L in the Wammy's House, which means that, from now on, I have to make sure that they don't socialise too much, just the bare minimum so as not to raise doubts about my interference.

I tried to disturb Lex's friends as little as possible, even though he reiterated that I needed to relax and that, whatever I did, I would not bother any living or dead soul within those four walls.

Obviously, I did not sleep with Lex in the same bed as him because that would have been awkward, and it was not wide enough for us to sleep peacefully.

They gave me their four pillows to be more comfortable on the floor. I did not put myself in the middle of the room, as I could have done, since they have two bunk beds and not three parallel beds like my room.

I settled myself near the left corner, visible only to Lex and his mate below.

They were polite, most likely because they were half-asleep when Lex asked them to pass me the pillows, but, either way, I was pleased that, although we don't talk regularly, I'm not a complete stranger to be monitored for fear of being attacked.

I'm not sure how much sleep I got. I kept staring at the moonlight filtering through the cracks in the blinds, trying to think of anything other than Rae, Ayla, and L, but my mind always ended up on the three of them.

In less than a week, it seems that L has replaced me. Telling them the reason for my actions might seem like the best way to get my point across, but in reality, it would make things worse. They would regret the confidence given to me over the past two years.

Considering the information they have shared with me, I know I am wrong in not disclosing the truth to them, but I do not want that desperate choice to influence their opinion of me. I don't want them to think I would do something like that again, putting them in danger this time.

Do you remember when I told you that I have the feeling that they would betray my trust if our backs were ever against the wall?

I was not talking about them but about me. I put a fear on them that they should have but do not perceive because I avoid taking responsibility for my actions.

I do not want my past to define me, but, at the same time, I know that it would be fair to reciprocate the knowledge I have about them. At this rate, though, because of L, I risk losing them without even opening my mouth, and if the result does not change, I prefer to shut up.

I think that even just the time spent in ignorance, and not the action itself, would contribute to the negative idea they would have about me because I lied. I kept an important piece that defines me from them. A bit like them with the letters, and I did not take it very well.

However, the difference between them and me is that I did not decide to do another person's will. I am not sure how and why they decided to expose themselves to L, but it is not something I expected from them because it indicates a lot of respect and trust, which he does not deserve in the slightest and which only risks endangering them. I don't understand whether they have considered this last aspect or not, but if they have, why?

What if they realise they no longer want to be detectives further down the line? Time lost, identity revealed, future at risk. All this just for L, and they allowed him to do it. I don't care how many resources L has, how capable he is of doing whatever he wants. Knowing their real names is enough to be considered a problem for them since he will have no moral obligation to safeguard their safety once they are out of the project and not involved in any case.

It is quite clear that I don't trust L – I don't need to repeat that. There is nothing I can do to take my hatred for him out of my head. I can't make the hostile feelings I have go away, and in part, I don't want that to happen because it is surely the only way to better understand his true intentions and the consequences of his actions without being beguiled by a possible display of primacy in investigation, deduction, and logic.

It is also irritating how Watari allows him to behave like this. He witnessed our discussion without saying anything concrete. He let L have full control over the situation, which was not resolved in any way.

I knew I could not trust Watari one hundred per cent, but he could've told him to be quiet and not to behave like that towards me, as he was quite overbearing and thought he could offer me resolutions without letting me state my side of the story in private to the headmaster and contribute to those options.

The meeting only served to better understand L.'s perspective. He knows it was his alias that set me off, and I only know this about his reasoning because I stopped him before he could continue speaking out loud. I thought interrupting him would help my cause, but surely, he realised he had hit the nail on the head. Logically, the solution would be to change the alias, but he is too self-centred to realise that.

Honestly, at this point, even if he decided to change it, it wouldn't make too much difference because I have begun to resent him as an individual.

The door opened, and Lex entered the room. He was still in his pyjamas, his hair tousled and not at all ready to face the day. My prolonged stay in his room was definitely disturbing him, but I appreciated that he didn't tell me bluntly.

"If only you took notes in the same way you update your diary." He commented, rubbing his eyes.

"The explanations Roger gives are pretty easy to keep in mind." I spoke. "If you weren't talking the whole time, you'd realise that."

"I'm doing him a favour. If it weren't for me, the class would always be empty." He climbed onto his bed and began to adjust it.

"True. He's not so popular with us." I pulled myself up, leaving Mazzaroth resting on the floor.

"You can't love something you hate." He gestured for me to throw one of the pads at him, and I obliged.

"Do you hate him?" I asked him because as boring and obnoxious as he was most of the time, not to mention my own personal opinion of his interest in insects, there wasn't actually anyone who fully detested him… Except me, of course.

Kids enjoyed talking behind his back and teasing him sometimes, but these were not actions marked by malice. It was a rather innocent pastime that had never affected him explicitly. Only two people had played a few pranks on him during my two years there, but they had been caught and punished for their actions, which had been an effective deterrent for similar future ideas.

"No, it's the other way around. He hates us." He replied. "You might think he doesn't like me because I bother him, and you because you threatened him with—"

"I did not threaten to burn his insect collection. I used the verb hope." I corrected him.

"I don't think it makes any difference to him." He chuckled.

I imagined so because he could not understand that my statement had no ulterior motive. I had no intention of going into his room and starting a fire. I just wanted him to stop bringing beasties into the Wammy's House with the intention of putting them in display cases, and hanging them on the wall.

However, I felt that part of what he felt towards me was also because I had crossed the threshold of his private room, and I understood this to an extent: putting myself in his shoes, I wouldn't have put up with the idea of a seven-year-old girl picking the lock to mind my business either.

"But it's not just that." He continued. "He closes his eyes and sighs at every request that we make, always, no matter why or when."

I couldn't deny that it was true, as I had noticed it myself. Sometimes, it made me want to stop asking him about Watari's availability and just show up directly in front of his office. I would have done so, I suppose, if Watari had not forced us to use Roger as an intermediary so that we would not have to wait in vain to be received without having the assurance that that would actually have happened.

"I wonder why he's a teacher sometimes." Lex got off and started tidying up his friend's bed.

I tried to help him, but he stopped me immediately, telling me not to even try and that he only needed me to pass him the pillows, and he would have taken care of the rest. I was about to retort and refuse his imposition, but in the end, it wasn't my room, so it was only fair not to touch other people's stuff without their consent, which Lex had surely obtained.

"I don't think he's a teacher because he wants to be." I picked up Mazzaroth. "We're the only grade that doesn't have outside support, which means Watari couldn't find someone to fulfil the requirements in time. He entrusted the vacancy to Roger, despite the fact that he is not the right person for the job. He noted that this did not stop any advancement, so he did not replace him, considering his contribution sufficient."

"Really?" He asked.

"It is the most likely hypothesis, derived from simple observation." I lied, and although not entirely convinced, Lex nodded.

I couldn't tell him that I had gone through Watari's office shortly after my arrival, looking for information that would have given me a complete picture of his work, private life, and relationships of any kind.

Of course, I had avoided getting my hands on the other guys' personal files, but telling Lex would have meant that it could turn against me. I wasn't aware of how adept he was at keeping secrets or not unintentionally divulging them in casual conversation, but if that were to happen, the issue would have been magnified, fuelled by contradictions with reality and speculation, which I wouldn't have been able to put to rest. What's more, if such rumour had reached L, he would have had an advantage, so I couldn't risk it.

"Random, but we're in the same grade, but, sometimes, you seem to be more... Skilful than the rest of us."

"You're only a little distracted." I replied. "Not in a negative way. We all are based on what we care or do not care about. Probably, Roger is not your subject of interest."

"And is he yours?"

I found myself chuckling at the absurdity of that question.

"Wammy's House as a whole is, Lex, and he lives here." I walked towards the door. "I'll let you change."

"Will I see you in class?"

"Only if I walk through its threshold." I answered, and it was the last thing I said before I found myself in the corridor.

I didn't want to go to the canteen and risk seeing Sherlock the Imposter and his two faithful companions, whom I still couldn't associate with anyone from those books, as Mycroft Holmes was too unmotivated, G. Lestrade was devoid of any imagination and creativity, Irene Adler had challenged the detective and outsmarted him, Professor Moriarty was a criminal and Mrs. Hudson found Sherlock Holmes' behaviour unbearable, despite worrying about him and his health most of the time. I could have searched for secondary characters, but, like Mycroft, I had no motivation to do so.

I opted to take refuge in the only place where I could find some comfort from inanimate objects. I hid in the last section on the left of the library, where all the less consulted publications resided, namely those related to religions and philosophical traditions. I grabbed a book randomly, without even looking at the cover, and sat down on the floor with my back against the wall.

I opened the volume to any page, then closed my eyes and enjoyed that silence. I thought it had been the right choice because I needed a break from reality, from L, but I realised not half a minute later that it had been a bad idea to isolate myself in such a silent place, with plenty of time to go over that Friday in great detail.

"Damn L." I whispered.

"You seem to really like associations with the Christian religion."

I opened my eyes immediately and laid my gaze on the petite figure of L, who, with the aid of a chair, was climbing up the wooden shelf to reach the books higher up. He did not seem intent on picking one up but only feeling their top.

"Rather ironic that we find ourselves in this section as well, don't you think?" He added, looking down at his fingertips.

"Are you following me?"

"I'm not following anyone at the moment." He replied, glancing at me. "I've been here for a couple of hours, actually. You even passed me by, but you weren't paying attention to your surroundings, which is rather inconsiderate."

"Did you want to attack me from behind, by any chance?" I asked, and he shook his head. "Why would I be alert then? In a place like this?"

"I didn't tell you that you have to be in a constant state of vigilance." He began to change the arrangement of various books without any actual logic, going back and forth on the plane. "Gathering information about the room you plan to enter is an important skill to develop. Not just rooms, as many types of environments can hide dangers, but we're talking about the library right now."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my thighs, and hid my face behind my hands. I told myself repeatedly that if I ignored him enough, he would have gone away, leaving me alone for once.

I imagined he wanted to have a confrontation because his boundless intelligence did not allow him to have any fun without provoking someone he considered mentally inferior. He had even assumed a different way of speaking from the previous day just because of that, and it was just pathetic, and I had no intention of giving him that satisfaction.

Besides, his remarks, apart from being obvious, were pointless in my case. We all knew that observation was crucial, but in that context, it made little sense because I had set foot in the library more than five hundred times, and there had never been a time when I had felt in danger. Moreover, I knew the influx of people according to time of day and season, as well as its blind spots. There wasn't much else I could examine.

It was apparent that it was a new environment for L, but the fact that he tried to give me advice was rather ridiculous. I should have been the one to make suggestions, even though I only had one for him.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" He asked.

I would have liked to ask him the same question so that I could see if he had been directly placed in the Apexes or completely excluded from the system that classified us. However, I stuck to my decision not to talk to him because I wanted him to leave as soon as possible, seeing no intellectual feedback.

"Are you habitually skipping them because you don't consider them useful or is advancing in rank not a relevant or desirable outcome?" L continued, raising his tone of voice, or, at least, that was what I assumed, until I looked back at him, finding him crouching in front of me.

His ability to be so quiet made me very uncomfortable. He could always move so lightly and not be noticed. I had not heard the chair move, the soles of his feet sticking to the wooden top, or the book being put down.

He had his head bent forward, his hair covering his face, and had begun to quickly flip through the pages of the volume. Was he going to read in front of me? Had I not been clear enough about how unwelcome his presence was?

"I don't have the necessary qualities to pass the exam." I replied.

I began to think that perhaps finding a conclusion to this interaction would lead him to leave me alone so that I could have some time to myself.

"That is not for you to decide." He retorted. "Self-assessment has to be done against a benchmark, which you don't have, because progress doesn't seem to be your goal."

"I already attempted to give it in June, and I didn't pass. My self-assessment is based on facts that have already happened."

L looked up at me.

I observed him for a few seconds. I noticed faint haloes of dark circles under his eyes. I wondered how many hours he actually slept and whether the annoyance I had perceived in his demeanour the previous day might have been tiredness instead.

I could not tell his state of mind from his gaze because it was not definable in a single word. It was simultaneously empty and emotionally charged, attentive and careless, indifferent and critical. Honestly, something was distressing.

"Didn't you have to wait two years?"

Was he aware of the day I had arrived, or was he trying to find out by having me tell him? Such information was irrelevant in the eyes of others, but if L was seriously trying to find out my identity, it was rather essential. Rae and Ayla hadn't mentioned telling him, but I didn't know if I could trust them.

"What is the purpose of this conversation, L?" I asked, sure he wouldn't have answered me truthfully.

All I needed was to shift the focus from me to him. That way, I would have avoided the risk of lying and unintentionally contradicting what the two had said. If that happened, surely L would have believed them and become suspicious.

"Specifically, none." He returned to his book. "I just find it curious that two of the best girls within the structure would get help from an average person, based on the Wammy's House criteria... Don't you?"

He was strongly getting on my nerves, but I could not show myself annoyed by his statement. It was true that Rae and Ayla were used to asking me for advice on their projects, but they were rather basic requests, which in no way demonstrated my skills. It was just absurd to consider that I could be on the same level as them when I was particularly well known at Wammy's House for the position I held at their side.

"I help them when they are tired or are out of ideas."

L said nothing. That silence of his didn't reassure me, because no matter how satisfactory my explanation may have been, I didn't know what information he had about me. Besides Rae and Ayla, he had spoken to Lex but had only asked him questions and, at his silence, had left. Lex would surely have informed me if L had approached him again, asking about me, but he had not. Of course, he could have omitted it, but it didn't seem to be in his character. After all, he had come of his own initiative to tell me.

"Have you decided?" He said, suddenly abandoning the subject.

Why did he do that? Did he get the answer he wanted, intend to continue at another time, or did he know I wouldn't have given him the gratification of stumbling over my own lies?

"An answer would be appreciated." He added.

"Why?"

A response would not have changed his or my way of being, might not have represented reality, and would not have altered my opinion.

I didn't understand why he kept insisting on feedback when it was obvious the attitude I had taken towards him from the beginning.

"So I can decide whether you are a threat or not. I thought it was pretty clear, otherwise I wouldn't have given too much thought to how you feel."

"Why would I be a threat?"

"You seem to envy me a lot and envy never leads to reasonable consequences."

He ran his index finger across the paper until it stopped halfway down the first column on the right-hand page.

"An unpleasant feeling one has about another's good or quality that one would like to have for oneself, often accompanied by aversion and resentment for the one who possesses it, mostly due to a sense of arrogance whereby one does not tolerate that others have equal or superior gifts, succeed better in their business or have better luck." He finished reading the paragraph and looked at me, perhaps expecting me to reply, but the assumption that I envied him just because I could not get over the way he was treated compared to the rest of us left me speechless.

I didn't feel any of that and never would have because my hatred didn't stem from a desire to be like him or possess a project similar to his. It was the fact that he was still there, at the Wammy's House, acting like a hypocrite.

"As you can tell from you—"

I didn't let him finish. I closed the textbook, wounding his hand as well, and threw it towards the end of the lane. L examined the scratch the corner of the cover had given him on the left side, but he didn't open his mouth to point it out to me or reprimand me, and I told myself it was for the best because if he had continued to make a noise, he would have left the library in tears, even though I didn't want to imitate that familiar behaviour.

Throwing a book at him the other day had been instinctive, while not taking responsibility for the consequences, walking away as soon as possible, intentional, but, at that moment, I had them in front of me, and I did not like it. I convinced myself, though, that it was the only way to deal with him so that I would not see myself in them.

"I don't envy you." I told him firmly. "I hate you."

"I was right, then."

I stood up, taking my book and Mazzaroth. L did not move, though, but remained crouched down to observe me. Did he never tire of being in that position?

"You have cracked the case, Sherlock, congratulations. Why don't you take your two helpers and go in search of another one?"

"X is in the main hall and T is in class, as you should be too." He replied promptly.

"Just because she's in class doesn't mean I have to be there. We have different schedules."

"I know." He pulled a tiny sheet of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it, revealing a school timetable. "I have your—"

I snatched it out of his hands immediately and tore it to shreds.

"I have other copies." He stood up, and, for the first time, I became aware of the fact that we were the same height.

I resented that I had a similar quality to his, which confirmed that I didn't envy him, but I wasn't going to point it out to him because the height wasn't something controllable... Or, at least, so I thought. L would have grown like any other person, but the difference in stature between us would have ceased to be something to be taken into account and appreciated because he would have continued to keep his gaze at the same level as mine as if to remind me that we were not so different.

"I'm really starting to think you're in the wrong kind of institution." I pronounced before walking out of the library.