Ojaga Wayne: 5 years
Bruce Wayne: 4 years, 6 months
The morning sun spilled across the study floor at Wayne Manor, lighting up the room in gold. Ojaga and Bruce had just finished their training, still a little sweaty and out of breath, laughter echoing down the hall. Bruce, always the eager one, was already at the table flipping open his workbook. Ojaga sat next to him, but his mind was far away.
Sometimes, Ojaga remembered flashes of another life—being a boy on Earth, reading comics about Superman and Batman, dreaming about heroes. Then, suddenly, he was here: a kid with a tail, living in a mansion, always hungry, always watching.
He knew now—he was a Saiyan, reborn as Thomas Wayne's son. He remembered stories of legendary warriors, battles in space, and secret powers. But here, he was just a quiet kid with a big secret.
Down in the lab, Thomas Wayne and Lucius Fox were hunched over the battered old scouter from Ojaga's pod. Lucius was running scans, frowning at the weird alien symbols. Next to it, some leftover food capsules from the pod glowed faintly.
"These nutrients are off the charts," Lucius said, adjusting his glasses. "No wonder Ojaga's always hungry. Normal food just isn't enough for him."
Thomas shook his head, worried. "We'll have to figure out a way to supplement his diet. And keep his tail a secret. If anyone saw it…"
Lucius nodded. "We're not ready for that kind of attention."
Upstairs, Ojaga tugged at his belt, feeling the tail pressed tight against his waist. He'd read enough comics to know that Saiyan tails could be trouble—one full moon and things could get messy. So far, he'd been lucky, always asleep before moonrise. But with school starting soon, he knew he couldn't risk it.
That night, Ojaga went to his parents. His voice shook a little. "Please… I can't go outside like this. People would freak out. I just want to be normal."
Martha knelt down, her eyes soft with worry. "Ojaga, your tail is part of who you are. Are you sure?"
Tears stung his eyes. "I just want to go to school. Please, Mom."
Thomas knelt beside him. "If you're sure, we'll help you."
It wasn't an easy choice. Martha didn't want to do it, but Ojaga's pleading finally convinced her. The surgery was quick, but afterward, Ojaga felt strange—like something was missing. Still, he could finally walk around without worrying.
Six months went by. School days blurred together—lessons, games, and the steady rhythm of growing up. Bruce was quick and curious, always asking questions. Ojaga stayed quiet, always hungry, always thinking.
One morning, Ojaga woke up with a weird tingling at the base of his spine. He checked in the mirror—and there it was: a little stub of fur, slowly growing back. Within weeks, his tail had returned, just as strong as before.
He told Thomas quietly. "Dad… it's back."
Thomas frowned, thinking. "We'll find a way to hide it. But you have to be careful. No one can know."
Ojaga nodded. He remembered from comics that the tail was a weakness, but here, it felt like something more—a secret, a burden, maybe even a strength. He wondered if it meant something deeper about who he was.
On the first day at Gotham Academy, Bruce and Ojaga stood together at the gates, uniforms neat, faces determined. Ojaga's tail was tightly wrapped and hidden—a secret only they shared.
As they walked into the crowd, Thomas watched from a distance, already planning special belts and reinforced uniforms. He knew the world wasn't ready for the truth. Not yet.