Parto 3: La Enigmo. 30: La Observado

When the year started, it was like any other year in La Nesto. Same routines, same lessons, same porridge for breakfast. With Arakil gone, I had calculated that my time with Kanako would increase exponentially. But at some point in the first month, things went wrong.

Kanako and Gabino began spending more time together. At first, it was subtle. They started sitting together more often at meals, their heads bent close like they were sharing a secret. Then came the whispered conversations during free periods, the sudden giggles that didn’t include me.

I told myself it didn’t bother me. Gabino was too loud, too quick to insert themselves into everything. The one that was always complaining about things. So why Gabino? It didn’t make any sense.

Maybe it bothered me a little. But I couldn’t help it, It was so annoying! Kanako and I had our own routines, our own games. We were supposed to be the puzzle solvers, the strategists. Now, Kanako was always with them. And whenever I tried inviting Kanako, I only got polite excuses. “Gabino needs help with something.” “I promised Gabino...” It was always Gabino.

Then Osiris joined them. Osiris was quiet, but they had a sharpness to them, a way of watching that made me feel like they saw things I didn’t. They weren’t loud like Gabino or scattered like Kanako. Yet there they were, fitting perfectly into their new group.

It became a trio. I saw them huddled together in the garden, whispering, pointing at things I couldn’t see. They were searching for something. I observed their patterns, their secretive glances. It was a mystery, and I hate unsolved mysteries.

Around the same time, Instruisto 4-2 began deviating from their usual patrols. Most kids assumed La Instruistoj’s routes and timings were random, as if they could appear as they pleased. But Kanako and I had been watching long enough to notice their patterns. We knew their routes shifted depending on the day of the week, looping through different areas at set times.

But 4-2 must have noticed something, because they were not following their usual routes. It didn’t look like they were following Kanako and company, though. I wasn’t sure if Kanako had noticed the changes, being so busy with their new friends.

I tried to approach Kanako on several occasions. Tell them about the patrol shifts, offer them my aid.

“If I can help you with anything, tell me,” I told them.

They ruffled my hair. Somehow condescending, but I didn’t mind.

“Don’t worry,” they said.

Don’t worry? Then they could have told me about it! Well, if they didn’t want my help, I would just observe.

And soon, whatever brought their little group together in the first place seemed to fracture. Gabino stopped joining the searches. One day, they were part of the group, the next they were gone. I saw Kanako and Osiris in hushed, serious conversation, while Gabino spent their time in the common room, scribbling in their notebook or teasing Abrajm.

A couple of days later, Kanako disappeared. Not literally, of course. But they were always in their room, hunched over their desk. No more free time. No more Konektu Ses. No more anything. Whenever I tried to talk to them, they just shook their head, their eyes tired.

“I’m grounded, Medusa,” they would say. “I have to finish these projects.”

Months went by. It felt like an eternity. I saw Gabino and Osiris were together again, only this time they acted more careful. Were they back to doing whatever they were doing? I couldn’t find out.

But one day I woke up earlier than usual, and I noticed Kanako gave something to Gabino at breakfast. I arrived early for a week and confirmed it: Every morning, Kanako would pass a folded piece of paper to Gabino or Osiris. Then, the next day, they'd get a new one back. They were doing it right under my nose! How had I not noticed this before?

Maybe it was my tendency to be late at the table.

Anyway, I couldn’t believe it. How long had they been doing this? So they didn’t have time to spend with me, but they had time to send these love letters? Unacceptable. I had to find out what they were hiding.

I needed a plan. And an accomplice.

Abrajm was the perfect candidate. They loved games, especially games about running. I devised a simple one: Abrajm had to grab one of my sheets of paper and run. The longer it took me to catch them, the better the prize I would give them. I started with small candies, but as Abrajm got better at escaping, I upped the ante. They were developing strategies, hiding, using the environment to their advantage. It was fascinating.

But I wasn’t trying to experiment with them, no. I had a greater objective. And I needed a test run first.

I went with Serena while they were doing their homework. I asked them some complicated question about the stars. While I distracted them with a map of the sky, Abrajm, as expected, couldn’t resist the opportunity and snatched Serena’s homework. Serena shrieked and chased after them.

“We’re just playing!” they explained when an Instruisto glanced their way. It was perfect. Cute and effective.

Now, it was Kanako’s turn.

I found them in their room, surrounded by papers. I made sure I left the door open before I sat on their bed.

“This is the last project, Kanako,” I said, trying to encourage them. “The hardest one… But once you finish it, you’ll be free! We can finally play Konektu Ses again!”

Kanako sighed, rubbing their tired eyes.

“I know, Medusa. I’m trying.”

Abrajm’s eyes appeared at the door.

“Good. Because I almost forgot how to play! It’s been, what, five months?”

“I know, I know. Just a little longer,” said Kanako.

Then I pulled out a candy, giving Abrajm their cue.

I saw it all in slow-motion. Abrajm running inside. Kanako turning to see what was happening. Abrajm grabbing as many pieces of paper as they could. Kanako tossing themselves over the desk, trying to save their project. Abrajm sprinting out, giggling. Kanako’s expression shifting from surprise, to confusion, to horror. The chair falling to the ground as the chase began.

“Abrajm! No! Not my project! Please!”

I waited a few seconds, savoring the chaos, before strolling over to Kanako’s desk. I quickly checked their bag. Inside, I found a map. It had X’s and circles drawn all over it, marking some locations: the heating unit, the shed, places I had seen Kanako, Gabino, and Osiris go.

And a diary. I recognized the style of the drawings. It was Arakil’s. It even had puzzles! Kanako was solving puzzles without me? Unacceptable. We were a team!

I skimmed through it and saw Kanako’s handwriting under a riddle. “Nobody can know. Don’t tell anyone.” It was the one I had solved!

Then I saw a warning from Arakil: There were hidden cameras all around la Nesto. I checked the map again to learn their positions.

I flipped through more pages of the diary, until one caught my attention. Pencil rubbings covered the paper, dark smudges that revealed a hidden message beneath.

“This isn’t a home,” it read. “It’s a prison disguised as one. There are rules we don’t know about. The truth is hidden somewhere here. I just have to find it.”

I stared at the words, my heart pounding.

Arakil’s mind always seemed to be occupied, as if they were trying to solve an impossible puzzle. But this... This wasn’t just a game. This was something bigger. And Kanako, Gabino, and Osiris were right in the middle of it.

Without me.

That wouldn’t do. Not one bit.