Chapter 9: Kisses, Chaos, and Creative Violence
(from the definitely-conflicted brain of Danny Fenton)
Okay, let's get one thing straight.
Yes, I kissed Sam.
Yes, it was amazing.
No, I have absolutely no idea how I did it.
That's because it wasn't entirely me. Naruto—yes, that Naruto—was basically piloting me like a ghost-busting mech suit with emotional upgrades. He made it all look so easy: the confident smile, the casual flirtation, the surprise hug from behind (seriously, who does that without getting elbowed in the ribs?).
And then there's me: Danny Fenton. Professional ghost magnet. Amateur kisser. And current host of a cosmic ninja with more dating experience than I have pairs of clean socks.
I mean, the moment I got my body back, my brain was still replaying that kiss like it was stuck on a highlight reel. My lips remembered it. My heart definitely remembered it. And Sam? Well, she was walking next to me with that dreamy look that usually comes from chocolate or romantic novels.
Meanwhile, I was having a panic attack in high-definition silence.
But just when I thought I could quietly short-circuit from secondhand confidence overload, Naruto's voice popped into my head like a surprise pop quiz.
"Now it's time for school, Danny. Go and beat up one of your bullies today. Use the weak one and utilize some creativity. Your father's a fountain of it, so you must've inherited something."
Yeah. Nothing like casually suggesting violence before first period.
I stumbled a bit—like, physically—and squeezed Sam's hand a little too hard. She looked up with that concerned-but-suspicious expression that said: I love you, but also, what are you planning?
And of course, I said the first stupid thing that came to mind:
"Just praying for our success today. You know, school and all."
She blinked. "You're acting weird today."
Which, fair. I mean, I usually don't act like I'm about to take out a lunchroom table with jock-shaped rage. But today was different. I could feel it in the air. And not just because someone microwaved fish sticks again.
As we got to school, the stares started. Whispering. Pointing. Probably a few bets being placed.
Yeah, I was the trending topic of Casper High.
Why? Two reasons.
One: Yesterday I somehow ended up dodging Dash's fist, scaring Paulina, and walking away without a single wedgie.
Two: Sam looked like she stepped out of a gothic fairytale, holding my hand like we'd just eloped.
It was sweet. It was romantic. It was... utterly terrifying.
I could practically hear Dash's brain cells grinding like rusty gears. I had maybe three hours before he decided I needed to be reacquainted with my locker interior.
Which is when Naruto chimed in again.
"immortal won't help you here, Danny. You've got me now. So stop praying and start planning."
Honestly, if I ever start a support group, it's gonna be called "Teenagers Possessed by Stronger, Smarter People Anonymous."
Anyway, my thoughts were spinning faster than Tucker during a Wi-Fi outage. I needed a plan. A creative plan. Something bold. Daring. Potentially illegal, but survivable.
So I turned to Sam—aka my personal moral compass with combat boots—and asked:
"If I beat one of those jocks today, how do I make sure they keep it to themselves?"
She raised an eyebrow. "You're planning something, aren't you?"
I shrugged. "Maybe."
And then, because she's Sam and also part genius, she gave me the perfect answer.
"Leverage. If they know you could humiliate them again—publicly—they'll think twice before talking. No jock wants to admit they got bodied by the ghost nerd."
It was... evil. Beautiful. The perfect combo of vengeance and practicality.
I smiled at her. A real one this time. Not the kind that hides a mental breakdown.
Sam tilted her head, expectantly. Her eyes sparkled just a bit. And I knew. I just knew.
She wanted another kiss.
I panicked, obviously. My inner Naruto was probably screaming "NOW, FOOL!" But I chickened out and went for a forehead peck. Smooth-ish, right?
To my surprise, it worked. She hugged me. Called me Romeo. And even said:
"I love you so much."
I short-circuited. Just a little. You know, in a cool way. Totally kept my composure.
…Okay, maybe I grinned like an idiot and forgot how to breathe.
But hey, at least I had a plan now. A brilliant, Sam-approved, Naruto-inspired plan.
Step 1: Beat up a jock.
Step 2: Make it memorable.
Step 3: Don't die.
Piece of cake.
Right?
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Let me just say—there are a lot of ways to ruin your morning. You could, for example, accidentally spill hot sauce in your cereal (thanks, Dad). Or maybe trip in front of your crush and land face-first in a trash can. But if you really want to ruin it with style, try getting body-checked by your school's top jock/natural disaster, Dash Baxter, two seconds after having a deeply romantic forehead moment with your goth girlfriend.
That's what happened to me.
Sam and I had just shared a wholesome, fuzzy-feelings moment, and I was mentally fist-bumping myself for not messing it up. Then BAM—Dash came in like a rejected linebacker from a football anime.
"Watch it, Fen-turd," he growled, like he owned the hallway and I was some bug on his cleats.
I stumbled, but caught myself, and—bonus points—Sam didn't fall either. So, you know, progress. Old me would've fallen on the floor in embarrassment. But now? Now I was... mad.
Not like, Hulk-smash mad. More like Naruto-whispering-insults-in-my-brain mad.
Sam, ever the grounding force in my chaotic life, gently cupped my face and said, "It's okay. With time, he'll know his place."
Translation: "Don't do something ghosty and/or dumb."
I nodded, but I could feel it—that weird Naruto-style confidence boiling just beneath the surface. The kind that made me want to scream "BELIEVE IT" and roundhouse kick a locker.
Instead, I just glared at Dash and followed Sam into class like a simmering pot of teenage angst.
And then came her.
Paulina.
She was sitting like the queen of the world, radiating beauty and judgment like some sort of high-school Aphrodite who'd just been told her smoothie came with two strawberries instead of three.
She looked at me like I'd stepped on her expensive shoes and then complimented her outfit with a burp.
Look, I used to like her. A lot. Okay, maybe "like" is too weak a word. I pined. Like a lovesick poetry-writing forest spirit.
But now? Things were... complicated.
Because even as I watched her scowl at me like I'd betrayed the crown, Naruto's voice casually strolled through my brain like it was a bar and he was ordering confidence shots on the house.
"Just improve, and she'll be yours. Trust me, I know all kinds of women."
I choked on my own spit.
"Dude," I muttered mentally, "Sam is right there."
"That's your choice," Naruto said, sounding way too relaxed for someone living rent-free in my consciousness. "Paulina has looks and charm, sure, but give it time. You'll start to see what others see."
I glanced at Paulina again. Still gorgeous. Still glaring. Still the human embodiment of "I hope you trip in front of everyone."
And for the first time, I didn't just think I wish she liked me. I thought... Do I even like her?
Because yeah, she was beautiful, but so was a black hole, and I'm pretty sure both would destroy me emotionally.
Sam leaned over and whispered, "She's trying to kill you with her eyes again."
"Yeah," I whispered back. "But at least she's not using laser vision."
Sam snorted. Paulina heard and huffed like a villain in a Disney Channel movie.
Meanwhile, I sank into my seat, trying to figure out what was more dangerous: Dash, Paulina, or the very loud ninja in my head telling me to fight people and win girls like it was a dating sim built for chaos.
Honestly? I didn't know if today would end with victory, disaster, or me hiding in the janitor's closet.
But one thing was certain: things at Casper High were definitely not normal anymore.
And I was just getting started.
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There's a myth at Casper High: that if you go behind the gym alone, you're either an idiot, a freshman, or someone who's about to become a cautionary tale. Today, I guess I was all three.
But I didn't care.
I'd spent all morning trying. Taking notes, paying attention, even asking a question. And still... nothing. I didn't stand out. I wasn't the smartest guy in class. I wasn't the fastest. I wasn't even the ghostiest today.
But I wanted to be better.
That's why I found myself walking toward the back of the gym with enough nerves to power a small country. I had a plan. A risky, reckless, very Naruto-inspired plan.
And as fate would have it, two jocks were there—conveniently alone, without their usual backup brigade.
"Hello, guys," I said, standing tall (or at least pretending to). "I hope you're having a wonderful time."
Translation: I'm about to do something very dumb. Please underestimate me.
They did. They sneered, laughed, and one even took a drag off a cigarette like he thought he was in a gritty reboot of Grease.
Then came the shove, the taunt, and the punch.
Except this time, I didn't flinch. I dodged. My body moved before my brain could tell it not to. My fist found his nose, and suddenly there was blood.
Surprise: it wasn't mine.
Plot twist: it would be in about five seconds.
The jock retaliated like a human battering ram. His fist caught my cheek with enough force to make my vision blur. I hit the ground hard.
But I didn't stay there.
I kicked. He went down. I got on top and did something I never thought I'd be capable of—I won.
"Do you give up?" I asked, panting like I'd run a marathon uphill during a heatwave.
The jock tapped out like it was WrestleMania and I was the Phantom Cena.
I stood, swaying like a busted antenna in the wind, and looked him in the eyes. "Remember who beat you. Tell everyone. I've got the video."
His buddy—Mr. Cool Smoker—suddenly lost his bad boy vibes. "Dude, we were just messing around...!"
"Then we're even," I said, nodding toward Sam.
She was standing nearby with her phone up like she was filming a documentary called How to Wreck a Bully and Still Look Cute Doing It.
I walked away battered, bruised, bleeding... and more alive than I'd felt in weeks.
"Not bad, kid," Naruto muttered in my head. "Keep your cool, don't get cocky. This is just the beginning."
He was right. This wasn't the end. It wasn't even the middle.
But for the first time in a long time, I wasn't just Danny Fenton, walking target.
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Okay, so I'm limping back to Sam like I just finished a three-round boxing match with a rhino—and trust me, I'm definitely feeling it. My face is a little more colorful than usual, and I'm pretty sure I left a piece of my dignity somewhere behind the gym.
But then, out of nowhere, Naruto's voice pops up in my head. Yeah, that Naruto. The guy who sounds like he's part wise sensei, part cranky uncle who's seen too many bad decisions.
"You passed—and better than I expected since you did it clean."
Clean? That's a nice way of saying I didn't completely wreck the poor kid's face. I guess I'm learning something.
I smirk to myself. "Thanks, Naruto. Now, can I get the options for the rewards? You know, like in those video games."
And just like that, BAM — a mental list of perks flashes in my brain like some over-the-top RPG skill tree:
Vehicle Mastery
Musical Instruments Mastery
Geography (because who doesn't want to know where they are at all times)
History (for all those times I need to sound smart)
Physics (for blowing stuff up scientifically)
Biology
Chemistry
Computer
Weapon Mastery (hello, cool)
Arts (uh, Picasso, anyone?)
Traps (because sneaky is always good)
Construction (building stuff, duh)
Lady Killer (okay, that's... interesting)
Sexual Skills (wait, what?)
Trainer (like a personal coach?)
Business Skills (money talks)
Medicine
Surgery (yikes)
Mechanics
Naruto's voice adds, "You can only gain one piece, so my advice is traps or weapons. They're the most practical for survival and combat."
Logical, sure. But practical isn't always the fun choice. I glance over the list again, and that Lady Killer perk catches my eye. I don't exactly know how it'll work, but hey—if I'm going to awkwardly stumble through social stuff, maybe this is the cheat code I need.
"Give me Lady Killer," I say, trying to sound way more confident than I feel.
Naruto pauses (okay, I totally heard the mental eye-roll). "A fine choice."
That's Naruto-speak for You're gonna learn the hard way, kid.
Suddenly, my brain floods with all the charm. Body language, smooth talk, flirting tips that don't make me sound like a total dork. It's like my awkward meter just got completely recalibrated.
I straighten up, feeling like I'm walking on a cloud of confidence instead of bruised muscles.
Sam's eyes flick over to me, noticing my injuries but also that I'm somehow… different.
"You okay?" she asks, her voice a little worried.
"Yeah," I grin, trying not to sound like I'm bragging. "Just another day for Danny Fenton."
She raises an eyebrow but smiles back. I think she likes the new me—or at least finds it kind of cute that I'm trying.
Naruto pipes up again, sounding suspiciously like a dad who just told you not to touch the stove:
"Enjoy the boost, kid. But don't let it go to your head. Confidence is good—arrogance will get you in trouble."
I smirk inwardly. "Don't worry, I've got this."
And for the first time in a long time? I actually believe it.