Mazzaroth, I have some good news, which also changes the tone of this diary, as it has been rather sombre.

L is gone, and I mean permanently.

I didn't update you on the situation yesterday, despite telling myself to do so at least before bedtime, because I wanted to put my energy into something more meaningful: the mending of my bond with Rae and Ayla.

Before moving on to them and the general situation at the post-L orphanage, you may be wondering how I feel about his departure.

Relieved is the first word that comes to mind.

I will never have to hear the pronunciation of that nickname again, unless I have the unfortunate coincidence of meeting him in the future, which I highly doubt, as I will move to another country once I leave this place.

If I distance myself from what happened, it will only appear as a nightmare and not something that has permanent consequences on my life. It will prevent the latter from happening.

After arriving here, since I had the chance, and for a reason – a person – that I prefer not to think about, I started reading psychology and clinical psychiatry manuals to better understand my situation.

Besides finding nothing to help me understand whether Watari's decision, prompted by Roger, to let me talk to him had any substance, it was also disappointing and frustrating not to find anything about my specific condition. When it came to the topic I was interested in, the focus shifted to something else entirely.

In any case, it's clear that they were wrong to let me talk to him, because not only did it not help me, it didn't even make sense.

I do not have any serious, but only temporary problems. The incident with L is proof of that and I must ensure that this does not happen again. I had a real moment of irrationality, and I cannot risk living my life illogically and ruining my career, which is based on reason.

I have to get away from everything that reminds me of my past, in short.

I have also considered moving to a country where the national proficiency in English is low and focusing on rural communities, where this percentage decreases exponentially. It is true that in the latter case I would have to give up my aspiration, as there would not be much to occupy myself with and travelling goes against the aforementioned, but I consider it a possibility not to be discarded. The last beach to take refuge on if I could not control my reactions.

I guess I had reacted like that because I was taken aback. It is not every day that you come face to face with a letter used as an alias, the pronunciation of which only brings to mind a certain incident. I did not prepare myself for the eventuality and it was a mistake on my part, but now, knowing that it is possible, I know what to do and how to behave.

One big question remains: how many other things did I not bear in mind?

You will tell me that all I have to do is look back over my memories and take note of anything that may recur, which is a completely wrong suggestion, because it always brings me back to the issue of hypotheses and, therefore, does not move me forward.

The answer is to remove the base – Great Britain (not to be too specific, although I indicate that I am not from around here, otherwise I would have written it down). Removing this island should remove many of these factors that I have no way of discovering for myself.

I will not leave Wammy's House, anyway. I think it's clear from the way I'm talking to you, but I wanted to make it explicit, because it feels good to write this for some reason I haven't fully explored. I will continue to see these familiar faces, show up in places I know quite well, and interact with individuals I have learned to live with, and I am not obligated to any of this.

Free will is the best part, because I chose to stay, even though it was technically Ayla who stopped me, but I could still have gone to Watari's office, and I didn't.

The director didn't come looking for me, by the way. ̶I̶ ̶w̶a̶n̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶c̶o̶m̶e̶ ̶t̶a̶l̶k̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶m̶e̶.̶ It doesn't bother me that much, because if he assumed that the topic would have been L, he must have thought that, with his departure, there was no longer any point in seeing me.

Now, moving from a micro to a macro view.

The routines of those who were guinea pigs in L's project were resumed with little difficulty, thanks to their ability to adapt to new situations easily. A general sense of confusion remains due to his sudden departure without explanation, as is only to be expected.

From one day to the other, they found themselves teetering in uncertainty, unable to come to terms with the absurd circumstances in which they had been placed for a few days and the fact that they had dodged a black hole, from which they would have struggled to escape.

To erase the identities of people who find it hard to identify themselves and accept the one they received at the entrance of this orphanage, even though they claim it is perfectly normal and has no effect on them, was a petty blow on L's part, an action carried out without any consideration for them.

Constantly changing one's individuality should not be normalised, but L behaved as if it were no big deal, moreover, leading them to confide personal information he should not be aware of. All this just to satisfy his ego.

They do not see this and, to tell the truth, I imagine that, deep in their minds, this irrational desire for him to make his reappearance to save them from monotony and give them a more sublime task than that of mere scholars remains alive.

I do not mean that I think of it as such, but it is the representation that others have of it and I feel obliged, despite an obvious sarcastic tone, to share their point of view.

I could use Rae's and Ayla's testimonies to give you the full picture, but I did not have the urge to actively gather new information and their opinion, as it is a great disappointment for them to have to play the simple role of students.

They idolised that boy in a way that was incomprehensible to me, and since it is still a fresh wound, I am not going to rub salt in it. I did what I could yesterday not to bring them to the realisation of what had happened. I avoided talking about L, his project and the hatred I felt for him, which should dissipate, as it is no use holding a grudge against people you no longer have anything to do with.

I only hope it happens quickly, because it has been two years and the hostility I feel for those who gave me life does not seem intent on disappearing. The accumulation of animosity is not good, in my opinion, and I would prefer to keep it mainly for them.

However, the choice not to mention L was mine alone, because no one stopped them from talking about him. I intervened the bare minimum with neutral opinions, so as not to appear completely disinterested or disrespectful.

I didn't fully concentrate on what they were saying, if I have to be honest, because I'm still trying to understand how friendships work.

I am their friend and I consider them as such. I have a specific definition for our relationship, but the dynamics within it are a big question mark for me, because I am the one who arrived recently; therefore, I cannot consider myself at the same level of closeness that exists between them. In addition, they find themselves having a lot more in common than I do with them – the project is the most recent proof.

I don't know if that bothers me or not, because I understand why this imbalance exists and is not something that can be controlled. But I don't understand why I started thinking so intensely about my role, since they introduced me as their 'best friend' to L, always tried to include me whenever possible, always defended me from comments that were not too pleasant and were generally kind to me.

I wonder if my analysis stems from the guilt I feel for having received their trust unfairly. I don't want to dwell too much on it, but...

I don't think I'm worthy of being their friend.

I should have told them the truth, because I feel like I sneaked into their lives and convinced them that I am a different person than I really am.

I should have accepted L's project, unconditionally from my opinion of L, because they were part of it and wanted to be in that position.

I should have supported their decisions, even if I did not fully approve of them, because they know themselves better than someone outside their mind and they know what they want.

I should have ignored L's presence at our table and listened to what Rae had to say about being in the Apex, because she was happy and that was all that mattered at that moment, since it was what she had wanted for years.

I should have treated L better, because even if I convince myself that it wasn't my fault, a big part of the reason he left Wammy's House is probably me. His departure saddened Ayla and brought to the surface that selfish person who made me an orphan.

I am not a good friend.

They are the first people with whom I have a sentimental attachment of this magnitude and I still find it quite difficult to put their needs ahead of my own, because I never learnt to do so and my 'role models' were not the best in this field.

I could take after him, given all he's done for me, but that's different, because they don't need me the way I needed him. I cannot turn all the books, meals, and lessons he gave me into something they can use.

He wasn't even my friend, after all, and I don't want them to end up depending on me, because my eventual leaving could lead them to hope for events that can never happen.

Sometimes… I imagine him walking into Wammy's House and holding in his left hand one of those volumes about dinosaurs or prehistoric animals that he liked to bring me. His daughter loved them and thought I would like them too. He did not force me to be interested in them, but when he asked me what I was curious about, I could not answer him, so he had to improvise.

I can see in his right hand a container with steamed vegetables cooked by his wife. It was something he often brought me, as it was the best food for children without incisors. Now, I have them, but I will have to lose more teeth soon and I would like him to tell me what is best to eat.

This vision – or hope – also ends tragically because my mind cannot separate what he did for me from what I did for him.

He was a good father, Mazzaroth, and I condemned him to an unhappy life. I ruined another family. I acted selfishly, as I also did towards Rae and Ayla.

I am not fit to be part of any kind of emotional bond.

All the ones I've had have ended in the worst way, and it's a matter of time before I make another misstep and ruin everything.

Do you think I should get used to that? Should I learn to live with the idea that the only way for me to have relations with others is to keep them as unemotional as I can? The question is whether this is possible, because the death of someone with whom I rarely interact in a superficial way and without forming sentimental relationships could, in any case, make me sad on a smaller scale, and this is not classifiable as 'being absolutely indifferent'.

I still wonder where those who seemed to be regulars in our house and that disappeared without a trace ended up, and although I did not know them, I was slightly worried not to see them anymore.

The discourse I was having reminded me of my opinion on the 4th of September about how friendships were limited in there. Although it was still a concept to be considered true, I realised that I had contradicted myself or, rather, made it explicit that I knew their names and that could no longer be considered a legitimate reason for me to have such a belief.

I was undecided whether to erase my confession of the previous day, because I wanted to remain consistent, but at the same time, scribbling on it would have meant having an incomplete entry and I would have had to tear out the page altogether, thus losing what was on the back, that I considered important: it had facts about Lex, and I would have wanted to remember what he had done for me, when in the future I would have found Mazzaroth and looked at it.

I did nothing but think about what I had written and why it had been so easy for me to put such a thought down on paper when I was in a totally different position from the one I was describing.

Did I really think that friendships could not be deep when one did not know the true identity of others, or did I think that I was incapable of developing them, because it was I who was not sincere?

I didn't know if there were relations within the orphanage similar to Rae and Ayla's, but where no one had revealed anything; therefore, I had no way to disprove what I was saying and I couldn't convince myself, because there were two specific reasons why I put extreme emphasis on that.

I wanted to create a future different from my past and the only way I could do that was to know who they really were.

"She sighed, the future world-famous journalist Ethe."

I immediately looked up at the figure of Lex, who was crossing the classroom threshold.

"Hanging her pen on the cover of her diary, containing the darkest secrets of everyone around her." He continued, advancing towards me, seated on the floor at the back of the classroom between the first two rows.

Since the matter of L was settled, I told myself to stop talking about him in the exact place I had decided I was going to send him away. I could not put myself in the exact position of that day, as one of the other students had sharpened his pencil and thrown the trash on the floor, not bothering to clean it up at all.

It was an insignificant detail to make the two situations coincide, but in doing so, I felt like I was leaving behind something deeper than just a kid or how I felt about him. I couldn't quite explain what it was, but I sensed it, and that was enough of a reason for me to do so.

"Are you into storytelling?"

"You're not the only one interested in writing here." He replied, holding out a hand to assist me up.

I accepted his help, despite not needing it. His hand was rather sweaty on contact with mine, which was to be expected. He was wearing sportswear, and his trainers were soiled with grass. It was not difficult for me to assume that he had just returned from playing a game of football. However, I couldn't say why he had come right over and not gone to change, so as not to dirty and complicate the work of the cleaning staff.

"Do you want to be an author?" I asked him. "Or something specific, such as a journalist?"

I felt a slight annoyance at the idea that he might want to pursue the same career as me. Not because I thought no one inside Wammy's House had the same intention, but because he was in the same grade as me and it would have meant competition. The challenge that would have inevitably arisen would have ruined any kind of relation between us, and I wanted to avoid that.

I didn't care much about those in the lower grades than mine because I was convinced that I could reach my goal safely and had no connection with them. As for the kids more able than me, they were interested in other, more 'complicated' areas, since many considered journalism a mediocre job. I could understand their motivations, as it was a role accessible to many, especially with the advent of independent journalism.

There was no point in starting a debate about how they had a rather narrow view, and I was content with the fact that I had no further opponents, who might have put a spoke in my wheel.

"Personally, I... Nope. I could never steal your profession, because I care about you being successful and, if I were to enter the game, that would be the end of you. You know that too..."

"You would completely annihilate me."

"Exactly, yes!" He chuckled. "But there's Simas..." He paused for a long moment and looked around.

I did not react to his name being mentioned, because I had already prepared myself for the possibility that it would happen. I didn't expect it to be so late, to be honest, and that it was Lex who came to talk to me about it, but it didn't really change the way I would have taken what he had to say.

I had learned of Simas' passion a few months earlier, during our grade exams. I had dedicated myself to the research, after agreeing on the thesis, while he had taken care of the writing of the information. I could have done it myself, but since the work had to be balanced between two people, I had told myself to leave that part in his hands, because he had shown and told me that he particularly cared about it.

The project was about assessing our ability to collaborate with the other and arriving at a meeting point through civilised debate. The meeting point was not essential, although desired, as it showed a certain capacity for persuasion. It was possible to have two different points of view, both fully explained, including thesis and antithesis, the reason for disagreement and a general opinion.

Before handing over the finished product, it seemed to me that everything had proceeded well: there had been no heated bickering, no bitter disagreements, we had managed to find a middle way and had even finished it before the deadline, so that we had the opportunity to reread it as many times as we felt the need to.

However, at the time of the result, Roger had informed us that the work had fulfilled almost none of the requirements, which was a surprise. Simas had left the room immediately, without waiting for any explanation. I had stayed because I did not want to sour Roger's opinion of me. Apparently, the text had a thesis up to a certain point, before changing completely and continuing with another one, contradicting everything stated above.

It had been logical for him to think that we had not actually communicated or had a dialogue; therefore, I had not argued back.

I communicated everything to Simas who, of course, blamed me for what had happened, despite the fact that he was the last one to have read the text and, consequently, the only one with the possibility of editing it without my knowledge. I did not inquire further into the reasons why he had decided to sabotage his own work, because nothing would have changed Roger's verdict and I was not really interested in moving up in rank, even if it suited me, as the goals became much more individualistic.

It seemed that that incident had led him to want some kind of revenge, which I was waiting for.

"He is interested in writing fiction and historical novels, if you don't know." He continued, when he realised I wasn't going to say a single word.

Was he dragging it out or was he not going to tell me anything about the incident? Simas had to have some kind of negative feeling towards me. After all, he had to wait another two years before he could try again, and he must have considered it a big waste of time if he thought he already had the necessary qualities to advance on the scale.

'Why that expression so...? Confused? Disgusted? Do I have something in my teeth?" He put a hand in front of his mouth. "It's been four hours since I ate, and no one has said any—"

"No, there's nothing." I stopped him. "Go on."

Maybe he had realised that he was the one who was wrong and, instead of being stubborn and putting the blame entirely on me, he had partially accepted it. I didn't have much information about Simas to fully understand him and that made me extremely uncomfortable. If he didn't want any kind of compensation, how had he metabolised the defeat?

'Okay, I will trust you... I was saying that he makes me read his exercises from time to time."

"Is he being asked by Roger to write books? Isn't that a bit pretentious of him?"

"No, no, it's not Roger. He may be an old man with a wrinkled heart, but he doesn't exploit children... That's what I hope, more than anything else. We don't actually know anything about what he does in his life, apart from his employment here. I mean, nothing not really. He likes it very much to—"

"We don't have to discuss his passion every time." I intervened.

"You are completely right." He nodded with a smile on his lips. "In any case, it is something Simas does by himself and for himself. He narrates what he sees, what happens in class, in the canteen, in the garden, in the library and so on."

It came naturally to wonder if he had written anything about me at that point. It would have been interesting, as well as beneficial, to understand the way he saw me, because it meant having a version of how I looked, which certainly had elements in common with that of others.

"He's the one who noticed that you hang your pen on the cover of any book you use."

I took that as a confirmation of the existence of a representation of me. However, if he observed such irrelevant details, it wouldn't do me much good. Doing what I was doing was only the most effective way of having a pen at hand at all times. If every notebook I used had its own stylus, I didn't have to look around for it or allow others to take it. I had noticed that the likelihood of someone grabbing a ballpoint pen arranged in that manner was less than simply leaving it on a table surface. It was a good deterrent for kleptomaniacs.

"Is he sharp-sighted or are you limited in observation? It wouldn't be the first time you've demonstrated that."

Lex stood looking at me for a few seconds. He seemed surprised by my words, and I didn't understand why, since we had already agreed on that lack of him.

"You have no filter, do you?" He asked me seriously. "I thought that I wouldn't seem weird to you, making up a little story to point out that I notice details about you, so as to impress you even with my strong skills in analysing our surroundings, and you belittle me like this, without any restraint."

I found myself smiling slightly, because the way he was talking to me was peculiar: more amused than angry. It seemed as if the situation was going in the direction I had longed for – from the first time I had met his eyes, while I was in the main hall and he was arranging the rickety desks of our classroom, before going to sleep.

"Is that what I should expect from our friendship?" He reciprocated my smile, which completely removed any note of preachiness from his voice.

"Can I consider a liar my friend?"

"What does lying have to do with me? I am creative!"

"In telling lies."

"In showing you that your presence is not irrelevant!"

I was taken aback by those words of his. It was not atypical behaviour on his part. Quite the opposite. It was me who had never found myself in such a situation with someone other than Ayla. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing with what I called my best friend, because I thought that anything remotely sweet said by me was out of place; therefore, it was obvious that I couldn't think of any sentence or word to say to him in response.

I just watched him in silence, waiting for him to realise the strangeness of that interaction and change direction completely, driven by embarrassment.

For my part, I should have prepared myself for that possibility, knowing his character, but I didn't expect to get into his graces so quickly. I had a completely different vision of how our friendship would have potentially started: he would've considered me more during lessons and, slowly, I would've gotten closer to his group, until I was fully integrated into it after at least four and a half months. In that way, I could start any conversation I wanted without feeling inadequate under any circumstances.

It was a linear and perfect process to be able to create a stable and constant friendly relation, without the need to overdo it to be liked. It was apparent that I had not fully considered the fact that he was not a passive terminal who acted and adjusted according to my will.

"Why did you hide in here?" He continued, as if the lack of a reaction from me that was on par with his didn't bother him in the slightest. "I've been looking for you for eleven minutes, and you know what that means? That I wasted my break going back and forth rather than resting."

"And you could have sat down, when you came in here, rather than standing and talking to me." I pointed out to him. "Am I really the one to blame or is it your inability—"

"Stop!" He said, accompanying that exclamation with the typical alt gesture. "I didn't come in here to hear about all my shortcomings. Once a day is enough. The damage is done, anyway. Three minutes sitting down wouldn't have made a difference."

"It might have." I retorted. "And I want to remind you that you always brag about having tremendous resistance to fatigue."

Lex sighed. "I came here to ask you if you wanted to come over for a ball game, and I got into a word fight that I just can't win..."

"It happens even to the best to lose."

He adopted a proud expression, before bursting out laughing.

"You haven't answered me yet."

"I was writing about the..." I glanced quickly at Mazzaroth. "Updates on the current situation."

"About L?"

He didn't hesitate in the slightest, which surprised me. Was that assumption of his stemming from the fact that it was the 'big news' of the moment or because, in his eyes, I seemed genuinely obsessed with that kid? I opted for the former, as I thought it impossible that my actions of the past few days could be interpreted as those of a fixated person.

"Yes, unfortunately. I wrote five days out of six all about him. At least, it's over and he's gone."

"But you don't seem very happy about it? I thought you hated him."

It was true, but I didn't want to confirm it, because L didn't mean the same thing as he did in my eyes. I didn't think Lex could understand it entirely. He would have accepted it, as he had shown he was doing, but I didn't want him to see me as a bad person who enjoyed feeling hostility towards an orphan boy, who had been removed from his previous residence, taken to that institution, had become acquainted with people he might have considered dear in time, only to find himself being transferred back to another environment, not knowing whether that fate would be repeated or not.

Although I had found myself wanting to leave Wammy's House for the simple reason that I didn't want anything to do with L, in the back of my mind, I didn't really want to leave, because I thought I deserved to be there, since I knew that place and the people inside it better than he did.

L hadn't come to possess the same knowledge as me, but he knew something and leaving it, being somewhere else, not knowing if the same situation would occur in the next five days, must have made him sad.

I thought part of the blame lay on him and his project and I was extremely happy not to have to hear his alias anymore, but I couldn't help but put myself in his shoes. I couldn't ignore how difficult it was to have to start over again.

"I'm glad, really." I forced myself to hint a slight smile, so that my words would not seem devoid of sincerity. "I forgot to show it, because I have to hide it from Rae and Ayla, but trust me, I'm relieved."

"I don't doubt it, considering everything that's happened, but I'm waiting to hear the reason for being on your side one hundred percent."

"Rightly so."

"So... You and your friends settled?"

I nodded, though settled was a rather ambiguous term. Just because we weren't bickering day and night about L, it didn't mean we were on the same page about that issue and that there weren't landmines ready to explode, just in case someone decided to walk on unknown land.

I just hoped that I wouldn't be the first to do so, so that I wouldn't find myself in the complete wrong, but, like everything else that defined my life experience, there was no way to avoid those devices, because I was carrying them on me. The only thing left was for L to trip me up.

"All in the norm." I replied. "You said you wanted to play football?"