Throne of the Ghost Emperor (Danny Phantom X Naruto)
Chapter 63 - 11

Chapter 63 - 11

Chapter 11: "Parkour, Pain, and Other Terrible Life Choices"

In which I discover that I am not, in fact, a ninja. Or a kangaroo.

There are a few universal truths in life. One: ghosts don't follow the rules. Two: cafeteria meatloaf is suspiciously bouncy. And three: if Naruto Uzumaki wakes you up at five in the morning with a cheerful "Good morning, sunshine," you run.

Unfortunately, Danny Fenton had learned all three the hard way.

He was currently in stage four of grief—"Why is this my life?"—as he sat on the edge of his bed, face buried in his hands, while the blonde ninja-turned-coach stood by the window like an overly energetic golden retriever.

"Time to jog," Naruto announced, as if it were the most exciting thing in the world.

Danny groaned like a dying cat and rolled dramatically onto his back. "Why? Why do you hate me?"

Naruto didn't answer right away. He just smirked—that smirk—and crossed his arms like he was watching the setup to a particularly entertaining prank. That only made Danny more paranoid. Naruto's silence had the exact same effect as ominous background music in a horror movie.

And then... the dream hit him again.

Danny had just been having the best dream of his life. He was floating through space, in a spaceship! Not a beat-up school bus, not a giant toaster—a legit spaceship. He was an astronaut, for crying out loud! NASA was calling. He was chosen.

And then... the stars went out.

Why? Because Naruto's face—yes, his actual face—appeared in the sky like some kind of celestial screensaver gone wrong.

"Well, hello there, Danny," Dream-Naruto had said, his grin so wide it could've eclipsed Saturn. "How about a mission?"

Danny jolted awake in cold sweat, heart pounding.

"This has to be divine punishment," Danny mumbled, curling into a ball. "Did I anger God? Forget to recycle?"

"Enough with the theatrics," Naruto said, clearly unaffected by Danny's existential spiraling. "We've got a long way to go before you're ready for the real challenges."

Danny cracked one eye open suspiciously. "The real challenges? What exactly have these been? The tutorial?"

Naruto shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

Which, in Naruto-speak, meant: worry about it constantly until your next therapy session.

Then the ninja grinned and added, "Besides, I've got something for you—a little reward for your hard work."

Danny, still in the fog of sleep-deprivation and mild trauma, blinked. "Wait. Rewards? Like... candy?"

Naruto shook his head. "Better. Points."

Now Danny was awake. "Points?"

"For completing tasks. Jogging every day? One point. Completing major objectives? Five points minimum. You can trade them for knowledge, skills, equipment... even cash."

He said it so casually, like Danny wasn't about to become the protagonist in some twisted RPG side quest.

Danny sat up straighter, rubbing the last bit of sleep from his eyes. "Okay, I'm listening. What can I get for one point?"

Naruto smiled—too sweetly. "Air."

Danny stared. "...Air?"

"You need at least five points for something worthwhile," Naruto said with the smug satisfaction of someone who just taught a kid that taxes exist. "Don't think I'm here to hand you freebies. Being my student is already the ultimate reward."

Danny squinted. "I thought you said you were giving me the equipment for free anyway."

Naruto gave him a faux-hurt look. "Danny, Danny, Danny. I said I was giving you training for free. Equipment, knowledge, life-changing upgrades? Those come with effort. I don't want you getting used to free stuff. It's detrimental to your growth."

Danny fell back onto his pillow with a dramatic flop. "Growth is overrated."

"Nope," Naruto said cheerfully, already tossing a water bottle at his face. "Growth is essential. Now get your butt moving. You've got a destiny to earn."

As Danny stumbled out of bed and into a hoodie that may or may not have belonged to Tucker, he realized something important.

He was absolutely, one hundred percent going to regret this.

But also... five points didn't sound that hard.

Maybe.

Unless jogging with Naruto included dodging kunai and rogue ninjas. Again.

Which, knowing his luck, it absolutely did.

-------------------------------------

Let's get one thing straight:

I am not afraid of dogs.

Ghosts? Sure. Parents wielding giant ecto-blasters? Definitely. Pop quizzes I forgot to study for? Daily terror.

But dogs? I like dogs. I respect dogs.

That being said, this particular dog wanted to eat my face.

It all started at the ungodly hour of morning o'clock—seriously, who even invented 5 a.m.? The sun had barely stretched its fingers over the rooftops of Amity Park, and the streets were empty, except for one extremely panicked teenage boy sprinting like his gym grade depended on it.

Spoiler alert: that boy was me.

"SAVE ME!" I shrieked, probably waking up at least three grumpy neighbors and one traumatized cat. My voice cracked somewhere between horror movie victim and pop star hitting a high note. Not my proudest moment.

Behind me, a brown blur of barking rage closed the distance, teeth flashing like tiny white daggers. The dog—a medium-sized German Shepherd with murder in its eyes—was very committed to the chase. Like, "I skipped breakfast and you look like bacon" kind of committed.

"Don't be such a wimp, boy," Naruto called from somewhere unhelpfully not next to me. "When I was eleven, I was wrestling bears the size of cars. And here you are, running from a dog."

My brain, fueled entirely by adrenaline and spite, screamed back:

'I'm human! I don't wrestle bears! That's illegal in like twelve states!'

But Naruto just kept going, his voice full of that annoyingly calm teacher tone, like this was just another Tuesday. "Basic martial arts cover all creatures, not just humans. The only thing stopping you is your own fear."

'Fear is rational when the thing chasing you has fangs and a bad attitude!' I wanted to yell. Instead, I wheezed out something that sounded like, "Help meeeeee!"

Naruto sighed. Loudly. Dramatically. Like he was the one being chased by a rabid fur missile. "Danny, I'll see you up there."

"UP WHERE?!" I gasped, my lungs threatening to file a lawsuit for abuse.

But he was gone. Probably leaped onto a rooftop or something ridiculous. Because of course he did. Meanwhile, I was halfway to cardiac arrest, legs turning to noodles, stomach cramping like I'd eaten expired sushi.

That's when I saw it.

Salvation.

A streetlamp.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Danny, you idiot. That's not a tree, or a wall, or a safe zone. It's a pole. What are you gonna do, pole dance your way to safety?"

Desperate times. Desperate measures.

With the dog practically breathing down my heels, I launched myself at the pole like my gym teacher had promised me an A+ and a pizza. My fingers scrabbled against the cold metal, and I somehow managed to cling to it, legs kicking wildly as the dog snapped at the air below me.

It was a scene, okay? I was dangling like a Halloween decoration, sweat dripping into my eyes, and the dog barking like I owed it money.

Then something clicked.

Maybe it was Naruto's annoying voice in my head. Maybe it was my last-night training finally kicking in. Or maybe my survival instincts realized I couldn't live on that pole forever.

I took a breath. Centered myself. And remembered what Naruto drilled into me the night before—stance, focus, momentum.

My grip steadied. My legs stopped flailing.

I dropped down.

The dog lunged.

And this time—I was ready.

I ducked under the leap, rolled to the side, and came up in a stance I didn't even realize I knew. My arms moved on instinct, redirecting the dog's weight, and in a flash of motion that felt way too anime to be real, I had the dog pinned.

The barking stopped.

The dog stared at me.

I stared at the dog.

"...Did I just win?" I asked.

The German Shepherd gave a low whine and laid its ears back.

"...Are you... apologizing?" I blinked.

Then Naruto landed beside us—from a rooftop, naturally—and clapped once. "See? Told you. The only thing stopping you was fear."

"Yeah," I muttered, still catching my breath. "That and the possibility of getting mauled."

Naruto grinned. "You did good. One point."

"One point?! I nearly died!"

"You also nearly soiled yourself. But hey—progress."

I glared at him. The dog licked my face.

Which, honestly, was worse.

------------------------------------------

Let me ask you something:

Have you ever sat down in the middle of a public park at sunrise, closed your eyes, and tried to "connect with the spiritual energy of the universe"...

...while being attacked by squirrels?

No?

Cool. Then allow me to be your cautionary tale.

So, after the "Dog Incident"—which I'm still processing, thank you very much—Naruto decided that I needed a more "spiritually grounded" approach to my training.

Translation:

Meditation.

In a public park.

While he hovered above me like a ghostly life coach with a ramen addiction.

"To master your ghost sense and yin perception, you must quiet your mind," he said, floating cross-legged in the air like some kind of ancient monk-slash-video game glitch. "Feel the flow of energy around you."

I, being a rational, non-zen teenager who's usually more focused on surviving high school and not dying in haunted alleyways, stared at him like he'd just asked me to lick a cactus.

But hey, points were on the line. And if points meant gear, gear meant survival. So I sat. I closed my eyes. I breathed.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Focus.

Peace.

...Until I heard the rustle.

Now, I'd like to clarify—I am easily distracted. That's just a fact. But when something's skittering across the grass with the intensity of a caffeinated ninja, I don't call that a "distraction." I call that a problem.

I cracked one eye open.

And saw it.

A squirrel.

Perched three feet away. Staring at me.

Not in the cute, "look at the little fuzzy guy" way.

No. This was the "I have seen the void and I bite toes" kind of look.

"Ignore it," Naruto said without even looking. "Squirrels are just part of nature."

That's when it hissed.

I kid you not—it bared tiny rodent teeth and hissed like a vampire ferret.

I yelped and fell backward off my rock.

"Okay!" I shouted, scrambling to my feet. "That squirrel is possessed!"

Naruto's ghostly form blinked at me. "Probably. A lot of ghosts are drawn to me. Comes with the whole 'ancient soul teacher' vibe."

"What?!"

He shrugged mid-air. "Eh. It happens."

And as if summoned by the power of dramatic irony, three more squirrels skittered out from the bushes, glowing faintly blue and making high-pitched chittering noises that sounded way too much like ghost giggling.

They surrounded me in a wide circle.

Meditation: canceled.

"Back! Back, you demonic tree rats!" I waved a stick like a discount wizard. "Naruto! Help!"

"I am helping," he said lazily, floating above the squirrel ambush. "This is part of the test."

"How is this a test?!"

"Focus. Breathe. Feel their energy. Don't react with fear. Perceive the yin flow."

"THEIR YIN FLOW IS IN MY SHOE!" I yelled as one of the ghost squirrels scurried up my leg.

Look, I'm not proud of what happened next.

There was flailing.

There was screaming.

There was some very unheroic high-pitched yelping.

At one point, I might've slapped myself in the face with my own shoe. We don't need to dwell on it.

But then—

I stopped.

In the middle of my rodent panic, I closed my eyes. Just for a second.

And...

I felt it.

A cool pulse. A soft hum. Like wind across a still pond, brushing through my chest, behind my eyes. The world became clearer. The squirrel's presence—its aura—was like a ripple in that pond. I could see it even without seeing it.

And I reached out. Not with my hands—but with my mind.

The squirrel paused.

Then—it stopped.

Floated midair. Its ghostly aura faded. It blinked once, gave a soft chitter... and then scurried off peacefully into the nearest tree.

The others followed.

I opened my eyes.

And Naruto?

He looked proud. In that smug, annoying, "I knew this would work eventually" way.

"Well done," he said, floating down beside me. "You sensed the ghost energy. You're starting to see the world as it really is."

I stared after the squirrels, still stunned. "So... meditation really does work?"

Naruto clapped me on the back. "Meditation works. Believing in yourself works. And being attacked by ghost squirrels apparently works too. Who knew?"

I groaned and slumped to the ground. "This is my life now. I fight dogs. I wrestle squirrels. What's next, haunted pigeons?"

---------------------------

After my soul was nearly devoured by ghost squirrels and I had one moment of spiritual peace, you'd think Naruto would let me bask in my tiny victory, right?

Ha. That was adorable of you to assume.

"Great job with the meditation, Danny," he said, which was the nicest thing he's said since I met him. "Now it's time for something even better."

Better?

Better?!

Oh, you sweet summer ramen ghost. You lied.

"Parkour," he announced, hands on his hips, eyes gleaming like this was Christmas morning and I was the present.

"Can I return this activity for store credit?" I asked, already sensing doom.

"Nope," he said cheerfully, already hopping onto the park bench like gravity didn't apply to him. "Let's get those instincts sharp. Strength is nothing if you move like a stiff pancake."

Rude.

"First lesson," Naruto said, crouching like some blonde jungle cat. "Flow. The park is your training ground. Trees, benches, monkey bars, statues of suspiciously muscular mayors—use them all."

He launched himself into a flip off the bench, rebounded off a trash can (ew?), did some kind of triple-spin ninja move off the jungle gym, and landed perfectly balanced on the edge of a public water fountain.

Meanwhile, I was still trying to tie my shoe.

"Your turn."

"My turn to what? Snap my spine in four places?!"

"Move!" he shouted, like a drill sergeant with a ghost license. "Run! Jump! Trust your body!"

Spoiler alert:

I should not have trusted my body.

It started okay. I managed a decent run—until I tried to hop onto the bench and completely missed, face-planting into the grass like a collapsing baby giraffe.

"Good! Again!" Naruto called out, somehow interpreting that as progress instead of a medical emergency.

I got up, ran again, tried to vault over a railing—

Caught my foot.

Slammed into the bars.

Made a noise that sounded like a dying goat.

Possibly cried a little.

"Loosen your shoulders," Naruto said helpfully. "You're moving like a frightened robot."

"I AM a frightened robot!" I wheezed.

But I kept going. Mainly because Naruto said I'd earn two points if I finished without barfing or breaking a limb. (So far, I was 0-for-2.)

At some point, he started correcting my form mid-movement. Which meant he literally phased through me as I ran, fixing my spine angle, adjusting my arms, shifting my weight like I was some kind of awkward human action figure.

"Lower your center of gravity!"

"Jump off the balls of your feet, not your heels!"

"Danny, that is a tree, not a trampoline!"

I don't remember much after that. Just:

Trees.

Pain.

Swinging too hard on the monkey bars and landing on a goose. (Sorry, Mr. Honksalot.)

Naruto clapping gleefully while I lay on the ground contemplating my life decisions.

At some point, I think I blacked out from muscle fatigue. Or embarrassment. Possibly both.

When I woke up, I was sprawled on the park grass like a discarded laundry pile, every inch of me aching. Muscles I didn't know existed were staging a protest. My spine sounded like bubble wrap every time I moved. I whimpered like a wounded puppy.

Naruto crouched beside me, smug as ever. "Not bad. You only screamed six times. That's a new record."

"That was me trying not to cry," I muttered into the grass.

He handed me a bottle of water and, to my surprise, a glowing blue orb. My first reward point.

"Pain is just weakness leaving the body," he said.

"Pretty sure pain is also your hamstrings exploding," I groaned.

He smirked. "Same thing."