…Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.
Far away, in England, an bright-eyed and brilliant teen pointed to a picture of a small boy with straight blond hair and said that he was the one.
"Are you sure, L?" asked an old man behind the boy, who sat curled up on the chair in front of the files from one of the many orphanages that he had been searching through to find the best. The boy in the picture smiled up at him shyly, next to a file with his rather impressive statistics from both his home-schooling and from various tests at his orphanage.
"Yes, Mr. Wammy. I…I think he would be perfect. I have a feeling."
The older man looked down, and noticed that L was looking at the picture more than the papers next to it, analyzing. "Would you like to meet him? I can arrange that."
"I would like that very much."
It wasn't long before Mihael saw the answer to his prayers and L got to meet the boy he had picked out to come with him back to England. Mihael liked L immediately, and L had no doubts upon meeting him that his hunches had been right. Though the children picked on the blond and said again and again that he was stupid, L could see differently. He could see the hidden brilliance within the boy's wide, strangely wild eyes.
Mihael said--for once, excitedly--to L (who always hunched over far enough that he was almost at eye level with the younger and shorter boy) that it was because his parents had taught him very well.
It was quite possibly the most exciting thing that Mihael had ever experienced when they boarded the plane to England. Though he knew what planes were from his studies, he had never been exposed to one in real life, and the size of Quillsh Wammy's private jet made his eyes go wide and his heart speed up with the thrill of something so new and amazing.
"Wow! Mr. Wammy has something like this?" he asked to his new friend.
L nodded. "He's a famous inventor."
"Wow!" Mihael said for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
L held his hand like a big brother--like his parents used to do--when they walked down the aisles to their seats. When Mihael sat, he couldn't help but to bounce up and down in the soft, cushy chair. L climbed up on the seat beside him, looking over his knees.
"Is that how you sit?" asked Mihael.
L nodded with a smile, his messy, black mane of hair bobbing as he did.
Mihael tried to sit like that, but his legs got tired very quickly, and he had so sit back down normally.
"Why do you sit like that?" he asked.
L shrugged. "I don't like sitting. It makes me feel like I'm not doing anything, and Mr. Wammy tells me to always be productive. So if I kneel, I have to work to stay like that, and I don't get lazy."
"Don't you get tired, though?"
"Sometimes, but it's okay."
"What about sleep?"
"I don't like sleeping, either, so I try to stay awake for as long as I can. It's like a contest I have with myself. I stayed awake for three days straight once."
"Wow."
L giggled at the awestruck face Mihael had given him at that.
"I'm gonna try and stay awake all night tonight!" the younger chirped, but by halfway through the trip, the blond had already fallen asleep.