The Narita Airport lounge bustled with travelers. Ryotaro sat by the window, watching the planes taxi across the runway. His duffel bag rested at his feet, filled with neatly packed clothes, notebooks, and wrapped souvenirs—Tokyo candies, a small lacquer box, and a detective novel in Japanese print.
The summer trip was over. But it wasn't just sightseeing or family bonding this time. He'd faced the Yakuza, stopped an organ trafficking ring, and walked away knowing he had made a difference.
The loudspeaker announced his flight. He stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"Back to America," he murmured. "Back to the team."
The ride from the airport to Narumi Detective Agency felt surreal. Ryotaro tugged his suitcase behind him, pausing before the familiar door with the frosted glass plate: Narumi Detective Agency.
He knocked once.
"Come in," called a voice—rough but warm.
Ryotaro opened the door to see his uncle Shotarou Narumi leaning back in his chair, hat tilted, cigarette smoke curling in the dim light. His uncle looked the same as ever: sharp suit, sharp eyes, pretending to be cooler than he actually was.
"Welcome back, Ryotaro," Shotarou said, smiling faintly. "How's your mother?"
Ryotaro stepped in, setting his bag down. "She's doing well. Still working hard, still reminding me to eat properly."
Shotarou chuckled. "Good. She always had the stronger will."
Ryotaro hesitated, then handed him a small wrapped box. "Here. From her."
Shotarou raised an eyebrow, unwrapping it to reveal a fine pen with an engraved pattern. His smile softened. "…Figures she'd know what I need. Tell her thanks."
Ryotaro pulled out another bag and set it on the desk. "And this is from me. Just some Tokyo sweets. Thought maybe you could use a break from cigarettes and black coffee."
His uncle laughed outright this time. "You're starting to sound like a proper detective, kid. Observant. Thoughtful. But…" His eyes narrowed. "There's something else. You look different. Stronger. Like you've seen something."
Ryotaro sat down opposite him. "I… handled a case. Alone."
Shotarou straightened, all humor gone. "A case?"
Ryotaro nodded. "Yakuza. Organ trafficking. I couldn't ignore it." He clenched his hands slightly. "I used the Driver. The Magma Memory."
Shotarou's gaze sharpened, then softened with something like pride. "And?"
"I stopped them. Saved someone. It wasn't perfect, but… I did it."
For a long moment, silence hung between them. Then Shotarou leaned back, exhaling smoke toward the ceiling.
"You're reckless," he said quietly. "But that's what it means to carry the Narumi blood. Protecting people, even when it means burning yourself. Just remember…" His eyes locked onto Ryotaro's. "A detective isn't just fists. It's heart. Never forget that."
Ryotaro bowed his head slightly. "I won't, Uncle." He told his uncle about his power and doing the hero's job two months ago. At first, he worried about the danger and burden. After knowing about my stubbornness, he just give in and tell me to always caution.
That night, after a warm dinner with Shotarou, Ryotaro slipped out of the agency. His bag was packed for Mount Justice. He stood under the Tokyo streetlights one last time, looking back at the glowing window of his uncle's office.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Then he disappeared into the night, his next destination clear.
Mount Justice greeted him with the familiar hum of Zeta Tubes. The cool cavern air wrapped around him as he stepped inside.
"Recognized: Ryotaro Nogami. B-12."
He pulled his bag over his shoulder and entered the main room. But the atmosphere was strange.
The team sat scattered across the lounge, the mood heavier than usual. Artemis was tending to scratches on her arm. Kid Flash slumped against the couch with an uncharacteristic frown. Superboy leaned against the wall, fists clenched, his jaw tight. M'gann hovered nearby, biting her lip nervously, while Robin sat apart, silent, mask tilted down and new white wolf.
Ryotaro blinked. "…What happened?"
Kid Flash looked up, surprised. "Oh—hey, Ryo. Back already? How was Japan?"
"Fine. I'll tell you later." Ryotaro set his bag down, scanning their faces. "Seriously. What's wrong?"
Aqualad stepped forward, his calm voice carrying a weight. "We returned from a mission in India. Gorilla Grodd's forces unleashed bio-modified animals against a village. We succeeded, but…" He hesitated. "We discovered that Batman had not fully trusted us with the mission's truth. It has left… tension among us."
Ryotaro frowned but said with a smile. "Batman didn't trust you? That's not new."
Robin finally spoke, voice low. "He thinks we're kids. That we can't handle the whole picture."
Artemis snorted, tossing her bow aside. "And yet we're the ones out there risking our lives."
Superboy's fists tightened. "It's not fair. They treat us like sidekicks, not teammates."
Ryotaro took in their frustration—the raw mix of betrayal and exhaustion. He understood. After all, he knew what it felt like to be underestimated, to have people decide what you could or couldn't handle.
He stepped closer. "You're angry. That's fine. You should be. But…" He looked at each of them. "Trust isn't something handed down. It's something you prove. Every mission, every fight, you show them you're more than kids. That you're worthy of the truth."
The room was quiet.
M'gann managed a small smile. "Ryotaro's right. We can't give up now. We just… have to keep going."
Kid Flash groaned. "Ugh, he's been gone for weeks and comes back sounding like Mister Wisdom."
Artemis smirked faintly. "Guess Tokyo makes you philosophical."
Ryotaro chuckled softly, the tension easing slightly.
"Whatever Batman thinks," Aqualad said firmly, "we will continue to prove ourselves. Together."
Superboy glanced at Ryotaro, then gave a curt nod.
"Good," Ryotaro said. "Because whatever happens, I'm with you."
For the first time since he stepped in, the heaviness lifted just a little.
Later that night, as the team settled, Ryotaro stood by the balcony overlooking the ocean. The waves lapped against the shore, moonlight spilling across the water.
He pulled the Magma Memory from his pocket, turning it over in his hand.
Japan gave me strength… but here's where my path is now. With them.
Behind him, Robin stepped out quietly. "You missed quite a show."
Ryotaro smirked. "So I heard. Sorry I wasn't there."
Robin shrugged. "You were where you needed to be." He paused, then added, "And… glad you're back."
Ryotaro pocketed the Memory, looking out at the horizon.
"Yeah," he said softly. "It's good to be home."