Throne of the Ghost Emperor (Danny Phantom X Naruto)
Chapter 79 - 27

Chapter 79 - 27

Chapter 27: "Call Me Maybe (Or Don't, I'll Just Panic Quietly)"

In which Danny makes a brave phone call, Star sleeps like a log, and Naruto casually plays emotional counselor.

Star had experienced bad mornings before—oversleeping through mani-pedi appointments, forgetting to charge her hair straightener, even once waking up with glitter in her mouth (don't ask). But this morning?

This was new.

Her skull felt like it had been used as a maraca in a gorilla band. Her muscles ached like she'd been boxing invisible kangaroos. And her memory? Well... let's just say it had more blank spots than a cable TV rerun marathon.

She blinked against the soft, golden morning light that filtered through her luxury blackout curtains—because rich people blackout curtains still had to be aesthetic.

The chandelier above her was slightly swaying. Had there been an earthquake?

No... she was the one swaying.

Star groaned as she pushed herself up, her hair a mess, mascara halfway to raccoon mode. She looked around her extravagant room—plush velvet pillows, an unnecessarily large mirror, more perfume bottles than a small department store—and for once, none of it made her feel grounded.

"Okay, okay... think," she muttered to herself.

She remembered the party. That much was clear. Loud music, too many drinks, someone jumping in the fountain, and Paulina daring someone to kiss a ghost plushie for 'ghost protection' (because Paulina was nothing if not on-brand).

And then...

Danny.

Star frowned, the image blurry in her mind like a scrambled TV channel.

One minute, he was just there—awkward, a background character in the soap opera of her life.

The next?

Saving her.

Not in the "oops, I tripped and he caught me" way, but in the "actual action hero fighting a green rage monster while carrying her bridal-style out of a collapsing building" kind of way.

"...That couldn't have happened," she whispered. "That's not Danny."

Right?

Danny was the kid who wore shirts two sizes too big and hung around with tech geeks. The guy who couldn't get through gym class without tripping over his own shoelaces.

Not... whatever she had seen last night.

Her stomach did a weird flip as she glanced toward the bed—only to notice her phone on the floor. Unlocked.

Which was weird, because Star always kept it password-protected like Fort Knox. No one was going through her texts without getting past a digital fortress and an emotionally scarring profile picture of Paulina.

She picked it up.

Missed call: Danny Fenton.

Her breath hitched.

He had called her? Why? When? Did she answer? Did she say anything?

Did he know how confused she was?

She flopped the phone onto the bed like it had personally betrayed her and rubbed her temples. The pounding in her head wasn't just from the hangover anymore—it was the rising tide of emotions that didn't make sense. And Star hated things that didn't make sense. Like pineapple on pizza. Or math. Or... feelings.

"This can't be happening," she muttered. "I do not like Danny Fenton. That's a rule. It's, like, in my contract."

But her brain wasn't listening. Neither was her heart.

Stumbling toward the mini-bar, Star poured herself something fizzy and definitely not FDA-approved for rehydration. It wasn't her classiest move, but right now, she needed a distraction.

The window caught her attention as she sipped her drink. Outside, the sky was perfect—blue, soft clouds, birds doing bird things. But somehow, it felt... wrong.

Like something had changed.

Like the world had quietly shifted while she was passed out, and no one had told her the rules anymore.

"Great," she muttered. "Either I'm crazy... or Danny Fenton's a secret superhero."

Neither option was comforting. One made her question reality. The other made her question her taste in boys.

Both gave her a headache.

But deep down—beneath the pride, the expensive makeup, and the defensive sarcasm—something was stirring in her.

A realization she couldn't name yet.

A memory just out of reach.

And a boy with glowing blue eyes who might not be so easy to forget.

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

Danny stared at the phone in his hand like it might explode.

He'd saved the number as "Star (???)" because even he wasn't entirely sure how it had ended up in his contacts. Maybe she gave it to him during the chaos? Maybe he imagined that part? Honestly, anything after ghost monster kung-fu chaos o'clock was a blur.

Still, the number was real.

His thumb hovered over the call button like it was a detonation switch.

"Okay," Danny muttered to himself. "This isn't weird. I'm just calling to check on her. Like a normal person. A polite, friendly, possibly-a-ghost-fighting person."

Tap.

The dial tone rang once. Twice.

Danny's heart pounded harder with each beep, like it was trying to escape through his ribs.

Then... voicemail.

"Hey! Uh... it's Danny! Fenton. From, uh... last night. I mean, not like that—we didn't... okay wow this is getting weird—ANYWAY, just wanted to see if you were okay. You kinda passed out after the whole ghost fight thing and I figured—uh—yeah. That's it. Cool. Alright. Bye. Sorry."

Click.

He immediately slapped the phone against his forehead.

"Smooth, Fenton. Real smooth. You sounded like someone trying to order coffee at a bank."

He flopped back onto the couch, groaning into a cushion.

Naruto, who had been watching this entire ordeal from across the room while polishing a ridiculously sharp dagger, chuckled softly.

"She's fine. Just asleep."

Danny peeked up through a tuft of couch pillow. "You sure? Like—mentally fine? Or like Star-version of fine, where she acts cool but is secretly plotting your social destruction?"

Naruto shrugged with that mysterious, effortlessly intimidating confidence of a guy who's seen a thousand dimensions and still doesn't care about high school drama.

"She's breathing, dreaming, and drooled a little on her designer pillows. That's usually a good sign."

Danny blinked. "You... watched her sleep?"

Naruto didn't even pause. "You'd be surprised how often girls nearly die after a ghost attack and need surveillance."

That... actually made too much sense. And was also kind of comforting, in a weirdly ninja-bodyguard way.

Danny sighed, staring at the phone again. He hadn't meant to care this much. Honestly, Star had never been part of his emotional Venn diagram. She was the kind of girl who wore heels to science class and could turn sarcasm into an Olympic sport.

But last night, when she was limp in his arms, murmuring in half-sleep, trusting him...

"She's different now," he whispered. "Or maybe... I am."

Naruto looked over, reading Danny like a book he'd already skimmed three times.

"Don't get too attached to the idea of who someone was. People change. Especially after being saved from a soul-sucking specter while wearing glitter eyeliner."

Danny blinked. "That was... oddly specific and wise."

Naruto smirked. "I dabble in emotional wisdom when I'm not forging plasma rifles."

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

"Plasma rifles?" Danny echoed, eyebrows raised so high they practically reached the ceiling. "You're telling me... you made plasma rifles last night?"

Naruto didn't answer right away. He just gave Danny that look—the smug, all-knowing mentor expression that said oh child, you've seen nothing yet.

Then he smirked. "Come. I'll show you."

Before Danny could even ask show me where or are we walking or ninja teleporting, Naruto's ghost form floated forward and tapped two fingers against Danny's forehead.

Boop.

Reality melted away like it was made of wet crayons.

Welcome to the Mind Palace.

A vast mental landscape unfolded—a surreal blend of sleek steel, glowing lines, and an ever-present hum of power. It was like stepping into a futuristic ghost IKEA, if IKEA sold soul-scorching sniper rifles and armor that looked like it belonged in a mech anime.

Danny blinked. "Whoa."

Lined up before him was a small armory that screamed badass protagonist energy. There were racks of glowing daggers, shields that hovered like loyal puppies, sleek blasters, and—yes—actual plasma rifles. One was floating mid-air with a soft hum, glowing like a lightsaber and a Tesla coil had a baby.

Danny reached for it—

DENIED.

An invisible force slapped his hand away. Not painfully. Just enough to deliver the spiritual equivalent of a slap on the wrist.

"Nice try," Naruto said, appearing beside him in ghost form. "But those aren't unlocked yet. Consider this your free trial."

Danny gave him a betrayed look. "Wait, so I saw the loot drop, but I don't get to use it?"

"Exactly. Glorious. Beautiful. And behind a bloody paywall," Naruto said, clearly amused. "You get to unlock the full set once you finish your tasks."

Danny groaned. "This is worse than downloadable content."

Naruto pointed to a rack on the left. "You do get these for now."

Danny turned, and his jaw dropped.

Flying armor. Sleek. Lightweight. High-tech. Colored in cool tones that somehow felt... right. It hummed with power, with retractable wings and a compact design. He immediately thought of Gabumon's Bond of Friendship and nearly squealed.

Next to it: a matched pair of daggers. Silver and shadow-black, humming softly with Yin energy.

"These are your starter pack," Naruto said. "Good enough to handle what's coming, but not strong enough to make you lazy."

"This is still better than 99% of my wardrobe," Danny muttered, reaching out to touch the armor reverently. "You sure I get to keep this part?"

Naruto nodded. "Just try not to get it too scratched up. It's like giving a kindergartener a lightsaber."

As they began to exit the mindscape, Naruto pulled out a pair of glowing necklaces—simple, elegant pendants that shimmered faintly with a silver-blue aura.

"These," he said, "are for Sam and Tucker. Protection amulets. If danger is nearby, they'll glow. And if something attacks, they'll create a barrier strong enough to deflect low- to mid-level threats."

Danny took them carefully, his heart weirdly full at the gesture. "You didn't have to..."

"I did," Naruto said plainly. "Because while you're busy punching ghosts in the face, someone has to make sure your friends don't get flattened."

Danny smiled. "They're going to freak out. Tucker's gonna want to hack it. Sam's probably going to pretend she doesn't like it while also wearing it every day."

"As long as they stay safe," Naruto replied, already fading back into the real world, "they can freak out however they want."

Star had officially upgraded her emotional state from "Ugh, I need a drink" to "Fine, I'll wash my face and pretend I have my life together."

She stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a designer robe, hair now a smooth, glossy curtain of 'I totally didn't just sob into my sink'. Her head still throbbed a little, but her thoughts had sharpened. The hangover fog was slowly being replaced by curiosity, dread, and just a smidge of existential panic.

She collapsed onto her plush bed, grabbed her phone (which had somehow survived last night's mystery chaos), and noticed—finally—a voice message blinking from Danny's number.

"Hey, it's Danny. Just wanted to check in... make sure you were okay after last night. That's all. Uh, yeah. Hope you're feeling better."

That was it. No overexplaining. No awkward flirting. Just... genuine concern.

And that's when her brain stopped.

Because Danny didn't have her number. She never gave it to him. Heck, she never saved his number either. So why did her phone suddenly have his contact? Why did her message history show a missed call timestamped right after that weird blur of dream-memory from last night?

Her stomach dropped like it had missed a step on an invisible escalator.

"That wasn't a dream..."

She sat upright, slowly, as if her bed had suddenly turned into a truth-telling device. Because if she didn't imagine Danny saving her, that meant—

Danny Fenton had scooped her up bridal style and fought a green monster while looking like a ghost-slaying prince of darkness.

The same Danny Fenton who wore baggy jeans and nervously dodged spitballs in the cafeteria two weeks ago.

What kind of reverse Cinderella fever dream was she living?

Star paced her room like a caffeinated detective, trying to piece things together. She remembered bits of the party, the chaos, the way he'd looked different—stronger, sharper, haunted but determined.

And not to mention, the way she'd felt when he was holding her.

"Okay," she muttered, glancing at her phone again. "Let's be real here."

"Danny. Freaking. Fenton."

"Who has been acting weird for three days. Not like 'forgot-his-homework' weird. Like... 'suddenly-owns-the-room' weird. Like he's been taking nightly power naps in a vat of confidence and protein shakes."

She couldn't stop thinking about it now. He had changed. And not just in the "finally hit puberty" way. There was something sharper about him now. Something dangerous. Something...

"...amusing."

She smirked at her reflection in the mirror. Because this? This was going to change everything. School was a kingdom, and shifts in power were entertainment. Danny going from ghost of the hallway to mysterious vigilante-in-the-making? That was a plot twist.

"He's like... Robin. But if Robin was dumber, less coordinated, and maybe tripped over his own shoelaces occasionally."

To be fair, Danny's parents did have enough high-tech junk in their basement to arm a private army. So, if Danny was some kind of vigilante—maybe he was borrowing gear from Mom and Dad's Ghostbusters Starter Kit.

Still. It didn't explain how he'd fought a ghost-looking thing with glowing daggers like he was born for it.

Star sat down again, this time with far less dramatic flair, and replayed the voice message.

There was warmth there. Sincerity. And underneath that awkward delivery, a quiet kind of strength she hadn't noticed before.

Something had changed in Danny. And whether she liked it or not, she found herself... interested.

Not swooning, not falling. Interested.

Because a loser suddenly turning into a night-time vigilante with mystery powers and confidence?

That was the kind of drama Star lived for.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.