The sun hung low over Konoha, casting long shadows that danced between the tiled rooftops and rustling trees. Cicadas hummed in the heat, and somewhere far off, a wind chime clinked lazily in the breeze.
Oliver sat by the riverbank just beyond the training fields, shoes off, pants rolled to his knees, bare feet dipped into the cool stream. The water moved around him like time — gently, endlessly, without judgment.
For the first time in a long time…
He wasn't thinking.
Not about syntax.
Not about chakra.
Not about how to bend a universe to understand a different one.
He just was.
Nearby, Naruto was skipping stones. Terribly. Each one plopped rather than skipped, but he kept laughing, determined to get just one to bounce.
Oliver watched him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. There was something infectious about Naruto — chaotic, stubborn joy. Like he refused to let the world be heavy, even when it tried.
And maybe that was what Oliver had needed all along.
Not more theory.
Not more control.
Just permission to stop carrying his old life like a burden.
He leaned back, letting the grass hold him, and pulled out his notebook.
Not the sealbook.
Not the research log.
The other one.
The one he kept for thoughts that didn't need to be useful.
He opened to a clean page, stared at it for a while, then wrote:
Entry — Riverbank Afternoon
I think I'm finally starting to breathe here.
Not just survive.
Live.
It's weird. The sky's different. The light, the air — even gravity feels like it pulls at a different angle. But today, for the first time, I didn't miss home like an ache.
I missed it like a story.
Like something beautiful I once read.
And that's okay.
Because I'm starting to love this world.
Not for what I can bring to it.
But for what it's already giving me.
He hesitated, then turned the page. Slowly, with a care he hadn't used in months, he sketched the outline of a symbol — not kanji, not seal script.
Just a simple S.
Curved. Stylized. Iconic.
The kind worn on a chest that never broke under the weight of the sky.
He shaded it in with soft strokes, then wrote beneath it:
Superman
Back home, he was an ideal.
Truth. Justice. Strength with compassion. The symbol of what we could be if we stopped being afraid.
I used to look up to him.
But now I think… maybe I don't need to anymore.
Because here, under a different sun, I think I've started to feel like him.
Not invincible. Not perfect.
But real.
Stronger because of the people around me.
Stronger because I finally stopped trying to go back.
He closed the notebook and lay back in the grass, the warmth of the sun pressing gently against his skin.
Naruto whooped in triumph — one of the stones had finally skipped once. Just once, but it was enough.
Oliver laughed.
And for the first time since waking up in this world, it wasn't a laugh colored by loneliness or memory.
It was just joy.
Unfiltered. Undiluted.
Free.
And as the wind tugged at the leaves and the stream flowed quietly past, Oliver knew one thing for certain:
This world was home now.
And he wasn't done becoming the man who could protect it.