Chapter 2: My Body Got Hijacked by a Dead Ninja Emperor
Naruto stretched his new body.
Flesh that wasn't his own responded with sluggish obedience. His hands moved instinctively—muscle memory guiding them through simple patterns, seals, stretches—yet each movement felt hollow. Weak. Brittle.
A faint grimace tugged at his lips.
This body was… fragile.
Not just in strength, but in presence. In resilience. The kind of vessel that had never known war, had never stood beneath a blood-red moon as comrades died. Even in his world, a four-year-old child carried more natural toughness than what he felt here.
But Naruto had expected this.
He exhaled slowly, letting the breath settle the simmering disappointment. No, this wasn't divine intervention or some twist of fate. This had been planned.
Years of war against the Otsutsuki clan had taught him that brute strength wasn't enough. Their reach extended across dimensions like roots beneath the skin of creation, draining worlds like parasites. Worlds like this one.
He had tried fighting them alone for too long. That was the old way.
Now, he would fight smart.
Naruto had split his soul—scattered fragments of his essence across realities like seeds in fertile soil. Each piece was sent to find that world's hero. Someone like him. Someone chosen, even if they didn't know it yet.
And this time… he found Danny Fenton.
Naruto closed his eyes, remembering the moment he saw the boy.
He didn't look like much. Pale. Anxious. Like someone who hadn't slept in days. But Naruto had learned long ago that appearances meant little. What mattered was the energy beneath the surface—the potential.
And Danny radiated it.
It wasn't raw power, not yet. It was more like… possibility. A glimmer of something vast and undefined. Untapped. And beneath that was something else—something Naruto recognized all too well.
Desperation.
Loneliness.
A hunger to matter.
That was what made Naruto pay attention.
This world was already under quiet siege. The Otsutsuki monitoring it would begin the draining process within the next few years. Slowly at first—natural disasters, strange phenomena, shifts in spiritual energy—but then the true devastation would follow. Planetary death, masked as decay.
And unless something changed, this Earth would end.
But Naruto had a theory.
Danny might be the key.
He had learned about ghosts—about the strange science his parents practiced, about the strange energies they called ectoplasm. Naruto didn't pretend to fully understand the mechanics, but he felt the parallels. The same way he once learned to wield nature chakra by instinct, he could sense that this world ran on something similar.
If Danny could tap into that—if he could become more than a boy with ghost problems—then maybe, just maybe, he could become something else.
A protector.
A medium.
A shaman.
A ghost hero.
Naruto didn't know yet. But that was fine.
He didn't need to know everything.
He had always been a believer in the bigger picture. His life had been shaped by loss, yes—but also by the unshakable will to build something better. To protect those who would carry that vision forward.
Now it was Danny's turn.
He wouldn't force the boy. That was never his way. He would show him. Guide him. Nudge him, if he had to. And if Danny refused?
Well… Naruto hadn't come this far just to watch another world crumble.
He sat in silence for a moment, letting the thoughts settle.
His new life wasn't what he expected.
But then again… neither was being the child of prophecy. Or a jinchūriki. Or a Hokage. Or a father.
And he had survived all of it.
So no, this body wasn't strong. Not yet.
But strength could be earned. Taught.
And Danny Fenton?
He was going to learn.
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Okay, 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 "Top 10 Chill Ways to Start Your Day."
Especially not mine.
One second, I was in third-period algebra, halfway through calculating the square root of "why am I still alive," and the next thing I know… I'm watching myself walk through the halls of Casper High like I own the place.
Except I wasn't the one driving anymore.
Nope. That honor went to some ancient chakra ghost samurai dude who decided, "Hey, this scrawny kid looks like a great spiritual crash pad." And apparently, my body was his five-star hotel.
"This kid hasn't even tried to take care of himself," my voice muttered, except it wasn't my voice.
It was deeper. Cooler. Confident in a way I usually only feel when I'm watching superhero movies and pretending I could land a backflip without dislocating a spine.
And also? Judgy.
So. Judgy.
"No wonder Dash walks all over him."
Rude.
First of all, I didn't ask to be the local punching bag. It's just... hard to defend yourself when your best combat move is "fall down and hope they trip too."
Yet there I was—still me, technically—walking like I'd just stepped out of an action movie. Shoulders back. Chin up. Swagger turned up to eleven. It was like someone had turned Danny Fenton into Danny Phantom: Ninja Remastered Edition.
And that someone was named Naruto.
Yes. That Naruto.
Except older. Way older. Like "I remember when stars were still forming" older. And yeah, he was real. Real enough that a piece of his soul had yeeted itself into my universe and crash-landed into my chest like it owned the lease.
I was officially haunted by a ghost who didn't believe in ghosts.
Welcome to my life.
"So, let me get this straight," I said mentally, because apparently we were on full-on mind-sharing terms now. "You're a space warrior from another dimension, you fought some galaxy-eating god clan, your soul exploded, and now you're… what? My personal trainer?"
"More like your guide," he answered, all calm and cosmic, like Yoda if Yoda were six feet tall and had rage issues. "You have potential."
Oh good. Potential. That's the word every nerdy kid hears before they get shoved into a locker.
Still, I couldn't ignore the weirdly warm feeling that came with his presence. Like standing near a campfire made of lightning. He was ancient and powerful, yeah, but there was kindness buried somewhere under the "you disappoint me" tone. A little bit of hope. Maybe even... pride?
Until he made the list.
I'm not even joking. He took a stroll through my brain like it was a shopping mall and found the dusty little corner where I kept my Totally Private Dream Goals™, Do Not Read Ever. And then—he read them out loud. In my voice. With commentary.
Here's the damage:
Get good grades – "Admirable. Also... not going well."
Beat up Dash – "He's weak. You can win with training. Or better aim."
Look cool – "Unclear metric. We'll work on this."
Become strong – "Now we're talking."
Learn magic – "Ghosts here are like chakra spirits. You're already halfway there."
Get some girls – "Hn. You lack subtlety."
Win over Paulina – "...Hearts are foolish. But worth chasing."
I didn't know whether to be flattered or mortified. Honestly, both. Probably more mortified.
But here's the thing—Naruto's not some genie who can just poof my problems away. He's stuck in the spiritual equivalent of dial-up internet. Every time he uses his power, it drains him. Which means:
No shadow clones.
No Rasengan.
No summoning giant frogs or foxes or punching asteroids.
What I do get is:
Ancient pep talks,
A running commentary on my life,
And extremely judgmental training montages.
Yay.
Still… as I watched myself—Naruto—glide down the hall, giving Dash the kind of look that makes alpha males suddenly reconsider their entire personality, something weird happened.
People moved out of the way.
Teachers paused.
Even Dash flinched.
And deep down, buried under the sarcasm and anxiety, a tiny voice whispered something I hadn't let myself believe in a long time:
"This could work."
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Let me start by saying:
I didn't ask for a sensei.
Especially not one who was part ghost, part chakra god, and apparently powerful enough to yeet a planet into the sun just by sneezing too hard.
But hey, I guess life decided I needed one.
So there I was, still watching my body strut through Casper High with Naruto in the driver's seat and me stuck in the back yelling, "Please don't make eye contact with Paulina—TOO LATE, abort!"
She blinked. I think she actually noticed me.
I may have ascended spiritually right then. Or at least my puberty did.
Anyway.
As we walked, I felt Naruto's presence shift. Like he'd just finished reading the user manual of my life and finally decided to talk to the sad little nerd who came with the package.
"You're weaker than I expected,"
he said.
...So that's how we were starting this friendship. Awesome.
"But not hopeless," he added after a beat. "Your body is soft, untrained. No discipline. No control. Like a wet leaf in the wind."
"Wow," I muttered in my head. "Thanks for the compliments. You always this warm and fuzzy?"
"Only when I like someone."
I couldn't tell if that was a joke or a threat.
Then he launched into The Talk.
Not that talk. The other one. The "you're about to become your school's next fitness freak" talk.
"We'll be training in two ways," he said. "Physically, in the real world. And mentally, inside your consciousness."
"Cool," I said out loud. A nearby kid looked at me like I'd just offered to eat a chalkboard. I pretended I was on a Bluetooth call, like a very sweaty businessman in sneakers.
Naruto kept going:
"Your body isn't used to my presence. Even though I'm less than one percent of what I once was, that fragment alone could still reduce this planet to ash."
"...Cool," I repeated, this time internally, trying very hard not to pee myself.
"But I'm not here to destroy anything," he added, as if that needed clarification. "I'm here to teach. And teaching means no shortcuts. No power-ups. You want strength? You earn it."
I sighed. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear every shonen anime protagonist nodding solemnly.
"You'll exercise daily. Run, climb, stretch. Your body will adapt faster just by holding my soul. You'll become stronger. Faster. Your muscles will grow, your endurance will improve, and your hair might even stop being so weird."
"Hey!"
"You'll become superhuman within a month," he added. "If you work hard."
...
I'm not gonna lie. My brain immediately started playing epic training montages.
You know the ones—jump cuts, inspirational music, sweat dripping dramatically off my nose as I do push-ups on a mountaintop, and Paulina clapping in the background wearing a cheerleader uniform and maybe slow-motion wind in her hair.
It was a beautiful dream.
Then Naruto crushed it with:
"In your mind, we will also train. I'll teach you how to fight. How to focus. How to channel your instincts and not die every time something glows and flies at your face."
"Rude," I muttered. "That happened like… three times. Max."
Discipline.
The dreaded D-word.
I already felt my video game time dying in a corner somewhere.
Still... this was insane. I mean, Naruto Uzumaki was literally offering to train me. Me. Danny Fenton. The guy who trips over air and once sprained his ankle sleeping.
Now I had a ghost ninja soul coach in my head and a personal boot camp scheduled between classes.
I should've been panicking.
Instead?
I was smiling.
Like a big, dumb, overly excited fanboy smile. Because somewhere in the back of my brain, behind all the sarcasm and trauma and ghost fights and social awkwardness, I was thinking—
This is it. This is my origin story.
Naruto's voice brought me back down to Earth. "Don't look so happy. Ninja training is brutal. It will test your limits. It will hurt. And sometimes... you'll want to quit."
Yeah. I remembered enough from the anime to know what he meant. Training arcs were always full of blood, sweat, and at least one traumatic flashback. But...
I nodded.
"I can take it."
He didn't say anything for a second. Then, I heard the faintest sound—maybe approval, maybe amusement. Definitely Naruto.
"Good."
And just like that, I took my next step down the hall—still in full-on borrowed swagger mode—and realized something strange.
For the first time in forever... I wasn't afraid of the future.
I was charging straight into it. With a ninja ghost at my side and maybe—just maybe—the chance to become something more than Casper High's favorite punching bag.
I was ready.
Probably.
Maybe.
Okay, 50% ready.
But that's better than nothing.
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A.N. I am changing the story a somewhat and cutting out some things.
This is a harem story: Danny: Star, Paulina, Sam and Ember
Naruto with Jazz and Spectra.