Chapter 24: "How to Crash a Party and Accidentally Commit Arson (On Purpose)"
In which I gain new powers, ignite questionable morals, and light up more than just the dance floor.
So there I was, zooming through the streets on a motorcycle like so leather-clad action movie protagonist. The wind was in my face, my sister was probably still trying to process today's emotional rollercoaster, and I—Danny Phantom, teenage ghost guy with a part-ti life coach—was thinking about whether it was too early in life to start referring to myself in the third person.
Then Naruto's voice echoed in my head.
Danny, it's ti for so heroism.
Heroism. Right. No pressure.
I blinked back into reality just in ti to see Naruto (technically still , because spirit body sharing is as weird as it sounds) veer the bike into a slower cruise. His eyes—my eyes—narrowed, scanning the crowd with that "I know sothing shady is happening" look that ani protagonists pull off way better than real people.
And that's when I saw her.
Star.
Yes, that Star. The one who always hung around with Pauline like a backup dancer with a little too much glitter. The kind of girl who treated popularity like currency and sarcasm like a second language.
And right now, she was walking arm-in-arm with so older guy who looked like he belonged in one of those cri dramas where they always say "We've got a situation."
His smile was too wide, too rehearsed. And Star? Her posture scread, "Please let be anywhere else but here." Not that anyone else seed to notice.
I tapped the brakes and parked the bike a little ways down the street, blending in like a very awkward ninja.
"Okay," I muttered. "This could an a few things."
Option one: Star had developed questionable taste in n and was voluntarily going for... whatever this was.
Option two: She was being led sowhere she didn't want to go.
Option three: I was overthinking it, and this was just her uncle from out of town with a really weird fashion sense and no understanding of personal space.
"Hey, Naruto," I whispered internally, because yeah, he was still kind of floating around in my spiritual inbox. "Do I jump in now or...?"
Observe first, act when you understand. Heroism isn't about fists—it's about judgnt.
Easy for him to say. He could break spines with his pinky. I was just a guy trying to figure out if I was watching a cri scene or an episode of Riverdale.
So I did what any hero-in-training would do.
I followed them.
Yup. Full-on creeper mode. Shadowing them from behind like I was auditioning for the role of "Stalker #2" in so teen drama. I kept my head low, trying not to look suspicious, which ironically made look even more suspicious.
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Okay, I know what you're thinking.
Danny, maybe following people into suspicious situations isn't your best decision.
And you'd be right. Absolutely, one-hundred-percent right.
But try telling that to the ghost ninja currently living rent-free in my brain.
I was crouched behind a hedge across the street, trying to act natural—which is surprisingly hard when you're dressed in black, whispering to yourself, and sweating like you're auditioning for an action movie called Teenage Regret: A Phantom's Tale.
Star had followed Mr. "Definitely-A-Creep" into a modest-looking house that was now shaking from the inside out with music, laughter, and the kind of bass that probably registered on the Richter scale.
I squinted at the house like it had personally offended . "This... doesn't feel right. What am I even doing here?" I muttered, mostly to myself. Mostly.
Naruto's voice, calm and dramatically cryptic (as usual), echoed in my skull:
"You are going to see the world your parents belong to."
...Okay. Creepy. Mysterious. Also vaguely insulting?
"Their world?" I whispered. "Ghosts!" My brain clicked, the puzzle pieces suddenly lining up in a way that made both excited and vaguely nauseous.
"Correct," Naruto said, like a proud teacher. "Now choose your skills before the situation escalates."
"Wait, we're escalating now?" I asked, but he didn't answer.
No ti for arguing. I closed my eyes and focused, bringing up the... let's call it a ghost skill nu. Because of course I had one now. Naruto had literally dumped a full-blown martial arts RPG system into my head. And yeah, it ca with a stat tree. Because why not?
In the old days, I would've picked sothing flashy—like Ghostly Fire Punch of Doom or Exploding Phantom Karaoke. But that Danny had been taphorically (and literally) set on fire and kicked through 37 ntal walls by Naruto.
I was different now. Smarter. Slightly traumatized. Maybe cooler?
"Give the Movent Skill," I thought.
And holy ecto-blast, the rush that hit was like drinking five energy drinks while being struck by lightning in slow motion. (Ten out of ten. Would not recomnd unless you enjoy feeling like your bones are vibrating.)
My limbs tingled, my heartbeat synced to sothing smoother, faster. The party crowd's movents suddenly beca... predictable. I could see patterns in their footsteps. The way a guy leaned on the doorfra told he'd step left in the next second. The girl swinging her drink? About to trip over the lawn gno.
"So this is what Naruto's been using all this ti," I realized aloud. "It's not just dodging—it's like dancing with physics itself. Predicting moves, stealing montum... and hey, I can feel Yin energy now. Cool."
"Focus," Naruto interrupted, ever the fun sponge. "Use what you've learned. You're not here to admire yourself."
"Geez, you could at least pretend to be impressed," I grumbled.
"I am impressed. You haven't tripped in thirty seconds. That's progress."
"Wow," I deadpanned. "Thanks, Sensei Snark."
Still, I had to admit... I felt different. Stronger. Balanced. Like for once, I wasn't reacting—I was moving with purpose.
I slipped from the hedge and crossed the street, weaving through partiers like a breeze no one noticed. My footsteps were soundless, my posture relaxed but alert. I could feel the shift—where I used to stumble through danger like a blindfolded penguin, now I felt more like a panther. Or, like, a ninja panther ghost guy.
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So, quick question:
Have you ever been handed a ninja throwing skill by the voice in your head, had your reality twisted into a glowing-green horror show, and then been told to start a house fire?
Because I have.
And let tell you—it does not pair well with teenage anxiety.
My heart was doing backflips. Like Olympic-level, gold dal-winning flips. Right before my eyeballs decided to betray .
One second, I was looking at a normal, if obnoxiously loud, house party. The next, everything shifted. I blinked—and the walls were bleeding green light. I don't an taphorically. I an actual ghostly veins of energy were running through the drywall like so kind of haunted spaghetti network.
Every person inside? Tied to those veins by glowing threads that pulsed like sothing alive. Like the house was feeding off them. Like... a parasite.
Yeah. My brain short-circuited a little. I might've gagged.
"Good choice," Naruto's voice echoed in my skull like he was the smug narrator of my unraveling sanity. "And as a gift, I award you the Throwing Skill. Welco to the real world."
"Oh," I said, already clutching my head, "you shouldn't have."
Seriously. He shouldn't have.
But Naruto wasn't done yet. Nope. He went full ghost ntor with a questionable moral compass.
"I'll show you the way this one ti. Think outside the box. Everything is a weapon. If you can't beat sothing, it's because you haven't used enough violence or destruction. Now, take the girl and start a fire. Make sure it spreads."
Hold up. Rewind.
Did he just say start a fire?
I stopped mid-freakout. "I'll go to jail if I get caught!" I whisper-hissed, which is the kind of phrase I never thought I'd say while debating arson with a ninja ghost inside my brain.
Naruto didn't flinch.
"They'll all die if you don't act soon."
And just like that, the party's pulse quickened. No, literally. The strings started pulsing faster. Like they heard us. Like they were getting hungry.
My fists clenched. My breath caught. And I realized... I didn't have ti to think this through.
I moved.
Sliding through the crowd like a shadow, I made my way inside. The music thumped like it wanted to punch my lungs. Lights flashed. People laughed, danced, kissed, stumbled—and none of them saw the strings. They were trapped. Walking snacks.
I found Star in the corner. She looked like she'd had way too much to drink, draped over a guy's shoulder, giggling at things that probably weren't funny even in her head. There was smoke in the air. A lot of it. But it wasn't from cigarettes. The whole room reeked of sothing... wrong.
Naruto didn't need to say anything. I was already moving again. Straight to the kitchen.
Booze. Lighter. Fire.
It felt insane. Irresponsible. Dangerous.
But also... necessary.
I sprinted upstairs, throwing open doors until I found one that wasn't filled with partygoers making questionable life choices. Okay, correction—it was filled with them, but they weren't expecting an angry teenager with a lighter and a plan.
"OUT!" I snapped, my voice sharp enough to cut glass.
The couple blinked at like I was interrupting a Netflix special. I didn't care. I grabbed them both, shoved them out, and slamd the door shut behind them.
No turning back.
I popped open the bottle, doused the curtains, the bed, the carpet.
It slled like bad decisions and gasoline.
I clicked the lighter.
The tiny fla winked to life like it knew it was about to ruin soone's day.
I dropped it.
WHOOSH.
The fire exploded like a beast unchained, roaring to life with terrifying speed. It danced across the room, feeding hungrily, stretching toward the ceiling like it had a vendetta.
"Okay," I muttered, stepping back from the growing blaze. "Step one: light fire. Check. Step two: get Star. Step three: don't die. Step four: seriously, don't die."
From the inside, Naruto's voice returned, calr now.
"Good. You've made your move. Now let's see if you can carry it to the end."
"Gee, thanks for the pep talk," I muttered, already racing back downstairs as smoke began to seep through the walls. "Next ti, let's just crash a wedding or sothing!"
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