Chapter 2: My Body Got Hijacked by a Dead Ninja Emperor
Okay, so let me start with a simple truth:
Waking up to find a century-old space ninja using your body like it's an Airbnb is not on anyone's list of good mornings.
Especially not mine.
But that's exactly what happened. One moment I was trying to survive algebra without turning into a literal ghost from boredom, and the next... I'm watching myself walk down the halls of Casper High like I own the place. Except I'm not driving the car anymore. Someone else is behind the wheel. Someone old. Someone annoyingly judgmental.
"This kid hasn't even tried to take care of himself,"
I heard my voice mutter—except, not my voice. It was deeper, cooler, with a kind of disappointed tone that made me feel like I'd just been benched from my own life.
"No wonder Dash walks all over him."
Rude.
For the record, it's not like I wanted to be a walking doormat for jocks with fists the size of small meteors. It's just... hard to fight back when your most impressive move is tripping over your own shoelaces.
And yet, my body—still me, technically—kept walking with this weird, graceful swagger I'd never managed to pull off, even in my best mirror-practice days. It was like someone had turned Danny Fenton into Danny Phantom 2.0… if 2.0 came with 100 years of ninja baggage and a superiority complex.
Turns out, that someone was a guy named Naruto.
No, not the anime character. Well... actually, kinda yeah. Except he was real, way older, and way more "galactic emperor meets cosmic war veteran" than I expected. His soul had gotten shattered in some epic final battle, and one of the pieces landed here.
In me.
Yay.
So now I've got a literal ghost—sorry, spirit warrior of light and chakra, whatever—living rent-free in my head. And worse? He's making lists about my life.
I'm not even joking. He took a stroll through my memories and made a full-on checklist of my secret goals. I know because he read them out loud. In my own voice. To himself.
Here they are, just in case you're curious about how completely exposed and humiliated I felt:
Get good grades – Okay, yeah. Who doesn't want to stop flunking?
Beat up Dash – He deserves it. Enough said.
Look cool –
Become strong – Not like 'gym bro' strong. Like superhero strong. Obviously.
Learn magic – Apparently, ghosts = magic.
Get some girls – …Shut up.
Win over Paulina – Not my proudest goal, but hey, hearts are dumb.
Naruto thought the whole list was adorable. Which was infuriating because he wasn't wrong. He also thought this world was crazy. I tried telling him that ghost attacks during lunchtime were normal, but I guess in his world, ghosts stayed in the afterlife like they were supposed to.
But here's the kicker:
He can't just zap me with his super-ninja powers and make everything better.
Apparently, he's like 0.00000000000001% here. Like a voice in my head mixed with a ghostly passenger, and every time he takes control or uses power, it drains him. So no, I don't get shadow clones, giant chakra monsters, or cool orange jumpsuits. I get pep talks, attitude, and training montages.
Yay again.
Still... I kinda get it.
He's not here to do the whole godfather makeover. He's here to train me. To make me strong enough to punch Dash, impress Paulina, and maybe stop dying every other week.
And I've got to admit... as my body glided down the hall with Naruto still in the driver's seat, shoulders squared, eyes sharp, a tiny part of me whispered:
"This could work."
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So, quick disclaimer: if anyone ever tells you it's a good idea to let a god-tier ninja war hero possess your body and take it for a casual stroll through high school? Punch them. Hard. Or maybe just run.
Because what happened next wasn't just a social nuke—it was a personality apocalypse.
Let me set the scene. There I was—technically still me, but not me me—walking through the courtyard like I'd just stepped out of an action movie. People noticed. They really noticed. Normally, my presence generates about the same level of interest as a broken vending machine. But today? Oh no, today I was the vending machine that just started handing out free chocolate bars and punching back.
And guess where we were heading?
Yep. Pauline.
Queen of Casper High. Destroyer of Dreams. And, unfortunately, the focal point of a thousand of mine.
Naruto—currently wearing my face like a borrowed hoodie—walked up to her like he owned the school and the surrounding zip code. His eyes locked on hers like something out of a cheesy drama, but instead of cheesy, it was… terrifyingly cool. Like, Greek-hero-on-a-quest cool. And me? I was trapped inside my own head, watching the whole thing unfold like a horror movie starring me as the helpless bystander.
"Hey, Pauline, could I have a moment?" he said.
I swear the air paused.
Pauline blinked like someone had just asked her to do math in public. For a split second, her invincible popular-girl forcefield cracked, and I almost felt bad. Almost. Until Naruto lifted her chin with my hand like we were in some romantic anime showdown, and I remembered: I'm the one who's going to suffer the fallout of this nuclear embarrassment.
And then—then—he talked.
"I find you beautiful on the outside," he said, and for half a second I thought, Oh no, he's actually going to confess for me—
"But you're ugly on the inside. So shallow it makes me want to puke."
Screeeeeech.
That was the sound of my soul crashing into a wall. Full speed. No airbags.
The courtyard went dead silent. I think the birds stopped chirping. Heck, I think a ghost paused halfway through haunting someone just to gawk.
Pauline? She looked like someone had just insulted her entire bloodline. Her friends? Looked like they were witnessing a live alien abduction. Me? Internally screaming. Externally? Still somehow smirking like a punk rock version of myself.
But Naruto wasn't done. Oh no. Because if you're going to emotionally dropkick the most popular girl in school, why not follow it up with a job offer?
"Still," he added, voice suddenly smooth like melted chocolate laced with explosives, "I find you hot. So I'll give you an offer. Become mine, and I'll show you a new world."
A new world, he says. Like he's opening a Pokémon gym or starting a cult.
He let go of her chin and walked away like a mic drop in human form.
And me? Yeah, I'm still in here. Screaming.
"What the heck are you doing?!" I shouted, not that he could hear me over the sound of everyone's jaws hitting the floor.
Naruto just gave the crowd a little nod, like yes, this is totally normal behavior for Danny Fenton now.
Pauline whispered a stunned, "What…?" and I felt my soul weep.
So, yeah. Day one of Operation Upgrade Danny?
We started by blowing up my social life. Great plan.
Note to self: never trust a ninja.
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I watched in horror as the most popular girl in school blinked at me—well, at him-in-me—like she'd just been slapped by a Shakespearean insult generator. But it wasn't over. Not even close.
"You're probably going to say, 'That's not going to happen because I'm rich.' No," Naruto continued, "your father is rich. You're just a leech."
People gasped. Actual gasps. One kid dropped his juice box.
Pauline's face turned red, and not in the flattered way. Her perfect social empire was cracking like a cheap phone screen, and Naruto was still talking.
"You'll end up as nothing more than an expensive vase decorating some rich businessman's side—or worse, a crack wh—"
Okay, I'll skip that part, because even in my mind, I was yelling, "DUDE! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
But Naruto was like a poetry-slinging hurricane with zero chill.
He even added, "Your father's probably grooming your sibling for the family business. Time is money, and you're just a sunk cost."
At that point, I was mentally curled into a fetal position, whispering apologies to every god I could name. The crowd? Staring like this was the season finale of the juiciest drama ever.
Then came the cherry on top.
"Boys, break his arms," Pauline said. Yep. That actually came out of her mouth. She snapped, and her bodyguards—aka the school's jock squad—moved in like wolves on steroids.
But Naruto just sighed like he was bored. "Aww, the princess was hurt, so her puppets have to defend her. How noble. Or sad. Hard to tell."
One of the jocks lunged, probably imagining how cool he'd look slamming me into the sidewalk. But Naruto moved like he was in The Matrix. He sidestepped, redirected the guy with one hand, and the poor dude ended up face-planting into the pavement with a confused grunt.
I gasped. Internally. Loudly. Because I can't do that. Danny Fenton can't do that. But Naruto? He was just getting warmed up.
"Your dignity," he told the jocks, "has gone the way of your brain cells—missing in action."
Then he just walked away. Like nothing happened. Like he hadn't just turned my life into a viral clip waiting to happen.
And the students? Stunned. Silent. Even Pauline—Pauline—was frozen in total, stunned disbelief.
Naruto smirked, satisfied like some smug warlord of social ruin. "Step two: make them question everything they know about Danny Fenton."
And me? I was still stuck inside my head, freaking out like I'd just woken up with face tattoos and no memory of how.
What was step three? I had no clue. But I was pretty sure it involved either more humiliation or an exorcist.
All I knew for sure was this: I was never going to live this down.
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Okay, so imagine this: one second I'm living my semi-normal, mostly forgettable life, and the next—BAM—I'm the poster child for teenage rebellion, confidence, and martial arts badassery. Except it wasn't me doing any of that. Not really.
Let's rewind.
The moment I—er, Naruto in my body—walked away from that wreckage of a social murder scene (aka Pauline's public humiliation), I was fully expecting to just head to class and lay low. I mean, I had already committed verbal arson. Anything more might have tipped the scales into apocalyptic territory.
But of course, the universe loves drama.
"That was so awesome!" Sam's voice exploded like a confetti cannon behind me.
Now, let me tell you something about Sam: she's cool, smart, slightly scary, and allergic to anything mainstream. Normally, she wouldn't be caught dead praising someone who publicly torched a popular girl. But right now, she was practically vibrating with excitement. Her eyes had that dangerous gleam like she'd just seen Batman unmask himself and it turned out he was also in a punk band.
Tucker, bless him, was right behind her, babbling like a caffeinated squirrel. "Dude, what did you eat today? And where the heck did you learn Jujitsu? That flip—WHAM!—it was like something outta Mortal Kombat!"
Naruto—still joyriding in my body—just smiled. Not a Danny smile, either. No awkward lip twitch. No nervous eye-darting. Nope. It was smooth, cocky, and borderline flirty.
"My pleasure," he said like he just saved the world instead of roasting Pauline until she turned into social charcoal. Then he added, "But this is just the beginning. Trust me, the best is yet to come."
Okay. That line? That's not a Danny line. That's the kind of thing you hear from someone right before they blow up the moon just to prove a point.
Then he did something that really freaked me out—he turned to Tucker with this serious ninja-warrior look and said, "Tucker, come to my house later. I have something important to discuss with you."
Tucker blinked like someone had just told him lunch was canceled permanently. "Uh, yeah, sure?" he said, all nervous. Honestly, I didn't blame him. I was nervous too, and I was literally watching this from the inside.
But then came the plot twist. The moment I realized we had truly entered the Twilight Zone.
Sam crossed her arms. "And what about me? Are you forgetting I exist?"
Normally, I'd panic. Stammer. Maybe trip over my own tongue trying to apologize.
Naruto? Oh, no. He just turned to her, eyes glinting with mischief, and said, "How could I forget you?"
And THEN—get this—he slid his arm around her waist.
Let me repeat that: he slid his arm. Around. Sam's. Waist.
Sam blushed. Sam stammered. SAM.
I was screaming internally. I've known Sam since I was five, and I have never seen her flustered like that. Ever. And now this ninja blondie was out here playing Romeo with my face?
Tucker was gaping like his brain had blue-screened. Me? I was just trying not to have a psychic aneurysm from secondhand embarrassment and confused triumph.
"Right, Tucker," Naruto called over his shoulder, still dragging Sam like she wasn't on the verge of exploding. "We'll see you later."
Tucker stood frozen like a sad NPC who just got ditched by the party leader. Then he made this dramatic "hmph" noise and stomped off like he'd just been betrayed in a telenovela.
"I am not jealous," I heard him mutter. "Nope. Not even a little bit."
But let's be real: he totally was.
So yeah, to recap: Naruto's in my body, wrecking reputations, dropping truth bombs, judo-flipping jocks, and flirting with Sam like he's got a license for it.
Me? I'm just along for the ride, internally screaming the entire time.