Hello!

This fic is a Danny Phantom x Naruto crossover that I've been working on for 'quite' some time. I originally started this story on request for another ffdotnet member: One for Inspiration, but the fic has grown into its own beast since then. One, if you're reading this, I'm sorry it took so long for me to write this!

This story is entirely written and completed. I'll update each part every other week.

To anyone reading this who follows my other stories… yes… I've been gone from FFdotNet for a very long time. Life kind of sent me on a bender that I am slowly recovering from. I've updated my profile page with more info so please check there if you want to know more.

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is to Butch Hartman as Naruto is to Masashi Kishimoto. Just building castles in the sandboxes.

TIMELINE: This story takes place in the divergent timeline introduced in the episode The Ultimate Enemy, where Danny's family perished in the explosion of the Nasty Burger. This story also takes place before all the events of Naruto.

:o:

Ectoplasm and Chakra

When Danny Phantom and Vlad Plasmius combined to create the catastrophe that would plague Amity Park for ten years, everyone assumed Danny Fenton died. But the truth is far different. Stranded in a strange land, a world-weary Danny meets a tiny blond boy with a nine-tailed fox on his shoulder and trouble on his heels. It is an odd turnabout to be simply 'ordinary' in a village of the extraordinary… TUE timeline; Naruto prequel.

A Danny Phantom & Naruto Crossover Fanfiction

By: Sholay

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:o:

PART I – VLAD

:o:

"Daniel… Danny. I am sorry that we must meet for the first time under such circumstances. I… am the estate attorney representing your parents…"

—"We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of three bright souls: Jack and Madeline Fenton and their daughter, Jasmine Fenton, who perished in the recent tragic explosion…"—

"I am very sorry for your loss. I hope there's someone you can take into your confidence during this difficult time."

—"…the terrible accident that also claimed the lives of Samantha Manson, Tucker Foley and a local high-school teacher…"—

"We must conduct the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Jack Fenton and the Last Will and Testament of Madeline Fenton…"

—"…Jack and Madeline Fenton, eccentric but brilliant individuals…"—

"… as the sole living beneficiary, you shall inherit the estate of your parents upon reaching 18 years of age. Until that time, your inheritance shall remain in trust held by your guardian…"

—"… Daniel Fenton, the sole survivor…"—

"Regarding custody, your sister would have… ah, I'm very sorry…"

— "…Jasmine Fenton, an exceptionally bright young woman, her promising life cut short much too soon…"—

"In the event of mutual disaster, your parents have stated in their wills that your Godfather, Vladimir Masters shall have full custody until such time that he relinquishes custody or that you reach the age of majority, whichever should come first."

—"…Vladimir Masters, closest friend of Jack Fenton, whose kindness and generosity has ensured that Jack, Madeline and Jasmine have a most respectful ceremony." —

"The paperwork has all been completed. I've asked Mr. Masters to meet us here today. He is waiting in the next room to take you home."

:o:

The first days passed in numb shock. Then, the dark thoughts came and, like tuning thin wire strings on a violin, they slowly wound tighter, tighter and tighter, until they snapped to lash out and shear through his mind.

'..My fault…'

'It was MY FAULT.'

'This is not a life. Not one worth living. If I… if… what if I just let go… would you hate—would you forgive me?'

In retrospect, Danny should have known Jazz would be the first to come to him.

In life she'd been an inconsolable worrywart. Anyone who thought death would change that really didn't know Jasmine Fenton at all.

Once, years ago, their parents had travelled overseas and neglected to call after reaching their hotel. While Danny had separated the rainbows from the shooting stars in his late morning Lucky Charms, Jazz had called the airport, the hotel, the police, the consulate, and the convention where their parents were presenting. She woke a dozen different people, whipped them all up into a frenzy and had the local police patrolling the streets for clues. Danny, ten years old at the time, was certain his parents had been kidnapped and taken away by the very ghouls and ghastly things they were always raving about.

As it turned out, their parents had forgone the conference for an impromptu trip to the Parisian Catacombs. They had neglected to inform their children of the change in plans. Maddie and Jack Fenton had been safe and sound and Jazz, choking on her own fury, had ranted and lectured them for hours. Surrounded by sulking elders, it was Danny who had ended up apologising quietly over the phone to the dozen tired, angry people his sister had riled up. For years the incident remained as a dark sword to be wielded against their parents at opportune times. 'Remember that time you went to Paris…?' became a harbinger to terse arguments and hurt feelings.

It was painful, now, to think of all the time they had wasted getting upset at one another… so much time wasted taking each other for granted…

A worrywart and an overachiever. That was Jazz. Combine those two traits and it completely explained how she managed to manifest after only a month.

It took most ghosts at least three times that.

Danny was lying on his new bed: king sized, sprawling and disgustingly extravagant just like the rest of Vlad's mansion. After a month of living with the man, Danny was utterly drained. Physically, mentally, spiritually… There was nothing left.

It didn't even really have anything to do with Vlad. The man was dealing with his own loss and, despite all his big talk, Vlad really had no idea how to handle a teenager—let alone a morbidly depressed one. So Vlad did what he usually did upon finding himself in a mess: he removed himself from the situation in the hopes that Danny would miraculously sort himself out.

Needless to say, Vlad's method was not working. It had been a week since Danny had left the room—since the funerals. It was the fifth day he'd spent lying in bed.

He hadn't returned to school since it happened.

Everything was slow and heavy. His limbs, his head and even his thoughts spiralled in slow, limited circles.

'Sick of this… Tired of this… Useless… Without them I might as well be full ghost… So sick of this…'

"Danny?" The voice was so quiet that he didn't even notice it at first.

"Danny?" The call came louder this time and his fingers twitched. He lay curled on his side, eyes half open in the not-awake, not-asleep daze he'd been in all day. He supposed it shouldn't really come as any surprise to him that he was hearing their voices now…

"Oh my goodness, what's happened to you? Get up, Danny! Are you hurt? Why are you just lying there? Get up!" It was this last order, so close and so audible that his eyes reflexively flicked up toward the noise. What he saw made his breath seize in his throat. He was suddenly shaking uncontrollably and the monster rose in his heart.

"J-azz?" The hoarse croak that left his parched lips sounded nothing like his own voice.

In a painful spasm, he threw himself up and sat up straight. The next moment he was doubling over, head to his knees, hugging himself as the world spun dizzyingly.

"Oh, you're hurt! You shouldn't have sat up so quickly! Where… What happened? Where are you hurt?" Jazz floated nearby and worried over his huddled form.

He focused hard on blinking the black spots out of his vision. The faintness wasn't too difficult to push back. What was harder to ignore was the chill seeping into his bones and the monster trying to smash through his chest.

Eventually, he did look up – wondering… wondering… if his eyes had been playing tricks…

But there, right in front of him, was Jazz—annoying, nagging, amazing, brilliant Jazz—gasping and looking at him, her face creased in deep concern. The expression on her face was so familiar it stole his breath and made his heart sieze.

"Danny…"

Her knees weren't on the bed. She wasn't touching the bed. She was hovering over it.

He could see the door behind her. He could see through her to the door behind her.

A long silence stretched between them as the two siblings drank in each other's appearances.

"Hi Jazz… guess I don't look so good, huh?" He meant to laugh but all that came out was a bone-weary sigh.

"Little brother, have you been sleeping?" She asked and eyed his face closely, "or eating? Why aren't you taking care of yourself?"

He took a breath, closed his eyed tiredly. 'Don't wanna to look at her. Don't want to see… not like this—but this! This might be the last time—!' He forced his eyes open—amazing, brilliant deceased Jazz—forced himself to speak. "Jazz… don't you… do you remember what happened?"

Jazz hesitated, an inexplicable emotion entering her eyes. Then, to Danny's immense guilty relief, she nodded.

Danny didn't know what he would've done if he had to explain to his sister that she was dead.

'Ghost now. Barely. Hardly formed.'

"I was so scared that you died too." She confessed. "What about everyone else?"

"Everyone's dead." He said hollowly, looking down at his hands. The world had stopped spinning but he still felt weak. So damnably weak. "You, Mom, Dad, Sam, Tucker. Even Mr. Lancer. Dead. All dead."

She made a distressed sound somewhere in her throat. Then she cast her eyes around the room. "Where are we?"

"Vlad's." Dimly, he wanted to spit at the irony. But his voice remained flat. Monotonous. "Finally got what he wanted, in the end. Though now he's got me, he doesn't know what to do with me."

Jazz looked confused, understandably. She didn't know about his and Vlad's feud, after all.

"Danny…" She started slowly. "What you're doing to yourself, it has to stop."

"You've no idea—" His bland, quiet words were easily drowned by her fervour.

"It's late afternoon and you're lying in bed!" She said emphatically. "And from the look of you, you haven't moved or washed for days! You've lost weight, you look so… so…" She couldn't finish, but he had no trouble doing it for her.

"Dead?" His eyes were on the comforter under his hands. His weak fingers couldn't even properly fist into the material.

"Don't say that!" She hissed and leaned down to him. "You're not dead!"

"But you are!" He cried as the monster suddenly rose up straight into his throat, into his voice. After days of drugged fog, his mind came into crystal clarity and his stinging eyes flew up to meet hers. "You are, Mom and Dad are and Sam and Tucker are and you know what? I wish I was too!"

"Don't—!" She started, but he didn't give her the opportunity to finish.

"It's my fault! If I hadn't cheated on that test—!"

"You couldn't have known—"

"I should have saved you!"

He felt an old, familiar prickling around his eyes, something he hadn't felt in a long time. Jazz's expression was showing alarm and Danny knew his blue eyes were glowing green.

"Do you see what I am?! I have this thing inside of me. This… this… I have so much power… And for what? Why? Why couldn't I use it? All this strength and I couldn't save the only people I care about!" He was crying. Again. God, he thought he'd exhausted all his tears long ago.

"Oh, Danny, shh… shh…" Responding to his anguish, she drew closer in comfort. One of her hands rose to his face. As close as she was though, he was keenly aware that she wasn't touching him.

Couldn't touch him.

Her body flickered. Faded. They looked at each other, both understanding that their time was short.

"Listen to me, my brother. Some things are unpredictable. The explosion… no one could have seen that coming, not even you. You can't change that—or this, even. You can't."

"I—"

"There are some things not even Danny Phantom can stop." She said and he froze at the meaningful expression she was giving him.

"You… you know…"

"I've known for a while." She nodded. "But I wanted to give you time to tell me yourself. To become comfortable and confident enough to tell me yourself."

"Never." He vowed quietly. He slumped back onto the pillows, exhausted with his emotions.

'Monstrous thing.'

"What? Why? Danny, all the good you could do—"

"I don't care." And in that moment, that was the complete truth. Without the people that he cared about in it, the whole world could rot. "This is a curse. I don't want it. Danny Phantom is dead. Gone."

'I should be, too.'

"That's not true!" She shouted, and he sighed, tilting his head back to look at her indignant form. "It is not true that you don't care. I know you, Danny, and right now you're hurt and lost but I know you are a strong person. A good person. A loving person. And… it's not true that Danny Phantom no longer exists for you."

This last sentence resonated. A flicker of disquiet twitched his brows downward as his eyes narrowed. "What're you talking about?"

"If Danny Phantom did not exist you would not have flashed that little eye-colour change back there." She gestured at his eyes. "You are using your ghost abilities as a scapegoat. But you're lying to yourself. You are Danny Phantom. Your ghost half is as much a part of you as your human half. You can't disown part of yourself and blame it for everything that's gone wrong."

Again, her body faded out of sight. When she didn't reappear, Danny sat up in alarm.

"Jazz?" He asked in a small voice but got no answer.

A deeply lonely, hollow feeling settled into his chest and he felt suddenly sick, suddenly guilty, horrible that he'd been given precious moments with his sister and had wasted them arguing with her pointlessly.

He curled into himself on the bed, putting his hands over his ears as though that would quieten his thoughts.

Much later, he woke from a doze and wondered if he'd hallucinated Jazz's entire visit.

Regardless, one thought stuck with him – a lingering idea sparked by her words. An idea that circled in his mind and brought with it a new resolution.

'Disown it.'

That evening, he tracked down Vlad, much to the elder man's surprise.

"Daniel, my boy, you don't look well. Are you sure you should be out of bed?" Vlad's concern seemed genuine as he looked down at Danny, swaying on unsteady feet and barefoot, clothed only in wrinkled pyjamas.

Danny noticed that Vlad did not look so great himself but couldn't gather the effort to give voice to the quip. He cut straight to the point.

"Do you have something which can split my human half from my ghost half?"

'It's a monster. It is. Mom. Dad. You always say ghosts are evil… So… If I take it out, I'll be good again. Right? I won't feel like this anymore. Right?'

:o:

Danny fumed. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest and he huffed petulantly.

Vlad had kicked him out of the house.

It had been over two weeks since Danny asked Vlad to separate his human and ghost halves. Vlad had agreed to try but so far wasn't coming up with any results. Apparently permanent separation wasn't as easy to achieve as a simple waltz through the Fenton Ghost Catcher. Danny had been badgering Vlad for updates constantly and the man had finally reached the edge of his tether.

"Daniel, enough is enough! I told you I am working on it and you will accept my answer! This is a complex and delicate process and I cannot have you breathing down my neck every second. Why don't you take a walk through the garden or something? You haven't been outside the house in weeks." With those words Vlad had ushered Danny to the door, practically tossing the boy out of the house.

Vlad's parting words were a barely veiled threat:

"Don't go further than the gates. I will know if you've left the property. It would be rather… unpleasant if I had to hunt you down and bring you back." Vlad's warning look told Danny exactly for whom it would be unpleasant if he tried to run away.

Danny nearly gagged, physically feeling the strain of Vlad's leash tightening around his throat.

"Take a walk like a good dog and I'll let you in when I feel like dealing with you again,'" was what Vlad was telling him and it repulsed Danny.

But not enough to rebel and try to run away. He needed Vlad. Vlad was going to take out his ghost, Danny reminded himself.

Three hours after he'd been 'let out', Danny still hadn't made it passed the front porch. He'd travelled two steps, sunk into a cushioned bench swing, pulled his knees to his chest and sat there. He tried to put his mind to brooding or sulking but mostly he spent the time just staring blankly off into space.

It was late afternoon when a lone figure walking up the driveway brought him out of his doze.

"Danny! Is that you?"

Valerie Grey.

"Val…?" Danny squinted at the girl blearily. "What…?"

"I… I wanted to see how you were doing. I got my Dad to drive me up here and… Danny, you look terrible." She stood over his huddled form, looking down at him in naked concern.

He just turned his head away, resting his cheek on his knees. "So I've been told." He mumbled.

"You can't do this to yourself, Danny." Valerie decided. She seemed to have abruptly taken it upon herself to whip him back into shape. Her voice was strong and she took a seat next to him. The bench rocked at the added weight. Danny didn't even stir at the change in balance.

She continued speaking insistently. "I know… it hurts…When my Mom…" Valerie's voice trailed off; then she seemed to gather herself and forcibly threw herself on another track. "You can't just sit and dwell in your loss. Your family wouldn't want you to lose yourself like this. It would tear them up to know what you're doing to yourself. This was a terrible horrible accident. Trust me, Danny, when I say that this was an accident. I worked at the Nasty Burger all year and I had no idea…

If Danny had been paying more attention, he might have noticed how Valerie's eyes were tearing up and how her voice held the heaviness of her own guilt. But he was too wrapped up in his own pain and all he felt was her hand as it came down on his knee.

He twitched, curling tighter, and Valerie immediately withdrew.

"You don't understand." He said quietly to his knees. "I am to blame. This is my fault… but… soon… soon that won't matter. It's going to be better soon."

She looked alarmed at the wistfulness in his tone. "Danny, what are you thinking of doing? Don't… don't do anything… don't… Isn't Mr. Masters looking after you? You should be telling him if you're having any thoughts of… of…"

"Vlad is going to help me." He informed her vaguely and this just made her look of horror increase.

"No! No, he can't—!"

"He will. He has to. He agreed." Danny stressed. It didn't quite occur to him that he and Valerie were arguing about two different things.

"Then… Then I'm going to talk to him!" She stood decisively. "I know him a little bit and I'm sure he'll listen to me." She made to turn away and head to the door.

"No…" He denied. She didn't stop and he panicked. "NO!" Danny shouted, eyes wide.

The force of his voice shocked even him. The last time he'd screamed like that was six weeks ago, when the lawyer had told him that Vlad was his new guardian.

Danny unfolded his legs and struggled to push himself up off the bench. It was embarrassingly difficult to keep his balance while pushing up and out of the rocking chair but eventually he was on his feet, standing eye to eye with Valerie.

"Don't!" He gasped. Panted. "You can't tell him anything! I—he—I have to do this!"

"Danny, I'm not going to let you kill yourself! And if Masters is willing to let you do it—worse—to help you, then he's not fit to be your guardian! Maybe you're right. I shouldn't be talking to him. I should be talking to social services!"

"No, nonono…" But Valerie was again turning away from him, this time to head down the patio steps and leave the mansion. Danny sidled in front of her and blocked her way. "Don't do this, Valerie." He pleaded.

"Danny, I care about you—"

"You shouldn't. You wouldn't… Not if you knew…" His tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth and his eyes were wide. The monster was rising in his chest; his mind was yelling at him 'No, no NO!' but his mouth was moving and all he wanted was for her to see him for what he was.

'All ghosts are evil. There are no exceptions.' His Mother spoke in his head.

Valerie was silent, watching him with wide eyes as he continued speaking.

"You said my family wouldn't blame me for their deaths. But they would. Don't you see? It's so clear, right in front of your face. How could you not have figured it out yet?" His fingers tangled in his hair and he shook his head fitfully.

"Figured what out?" Valerie's gaze was concerned, worried, and he wanted viciously to make her stop looking at him like that.

"Danny Fenton, Danny Phantom? It's not even that good of a cover. My face doesn't change, or my voice. Didn't you wonder why we always skipped class at the same time? Why Phantom knew about our flour sack? How Phantom knew you weren't in your suit that time? Why I didn't fight harder to stay together? Why Sam and Tucker are—" He choked, sobbed, "—were… so against us?"

Valerie's mouth was opening and closing but no sound was coming out. She shook her head. "What… What? No… What… What are you saying?" She stammered uncomprehendingly. Her expression pleaded with him to say that this was a joke, that he wasn't saying what she thought he was saying.

He was suddenly quite calm, all the screaming in his mind was silent and he felt like he was an observer in his own head. Calmly, he spoke the words that would end their friendship forever. "I'm saying, Valerie, that I am Danny Phantom."

Then, for the first time since he'd watched everyone he loved burn in giant explosion, a glowing ring of white snapped into existence at his waist. The monster came roaring out from his chest and consumed him.

The chill of his ghost form penetrated his body more sharply than he remembered. His gloved hands clenched into fists at his sides as a rush of strength and power raced through him with euphoric thrill. He bit down on the foul energy and he snarled at how readily his body took on the monster. The ring of cold power seared over his eyelids and when he opened them he let them glow unabashedly, showing Valerie the true extent of what he was.

"You see now? Do you understand?" He was wrong. He voice did change with his ghost form. It gained a freakish echo. "This is what I am. All this time I've been lying to myself, trying to play the hero…. I know better now. My family is dead and it's my fault. Do you understand what you're seeing, Valerie? I'm a ghost."

"No. You aren't… You can't be…" She was backing away from him, shaking her head in denial. Betrayal was in her eyes but something darker drew her lips into a thin line and caused her to crouch into an aggressive stance. To this darkness, he responded. His resolve set firm.

"You need to leave now." He told her. "But don't worry, Vlad is going to help me. I'm going to do my best to become good again… and if I can't, then I promise you that you'll never see me again. Goodbye, Val."

Her eyes burned through him but he didn't allow her the time to reply. He shot into the air, never looking back. To his shame, the only emotion he felt as he flew away was the breathtaking exhilaration of being free in the sky again.

:o:

"Now Daniel, I'm still strongly apprehensive about this entire thing. The design is a prototype and has only been tested on a minute scale. It is a monumental task to cause separation at the cellular level—"

"Vlad, I don't care. Just do it. If it doesn't work then I'll have a few more scars. Nothing new."

Vlad actually winced. At some point over the past three months that they'd lived together, he seemed to have grown quite soft toward Danny, though the teen could only guess why. They rarely saw each other; Danny spent his days locked in his room and Vlad was either at work or down in his lab. It was an impressive feat if they even exchanged two words during the day. When had Vlad found time to turn friendly?

"I don't think you understand, my boy. These gauntlets are designed to penetrate your body and rip out the ectoplasm. If they fail then it will likely be because they ripped out something other than ectoplasm."

"…Oh." Of course, that explained it. Vlad was concerned because he didn't want to lose his new pet son. "Ok. So?" Danny shrugged blandly and Vlad blanched.

"Surely you don't still want—"

'You owe me this.' Danny thought viciously but he was so drained that the emotion didn't even make its way to his face. "Listen to me, Vlad. Either you do this for me now or I'll find a way to get into your lab and do it myself later. At least this way you can be sanitary about it." His matter-of-fact statement had its desired effect. Vlad's expression hardened and he gestured to a flat table outfitted with heavy ghost-proof restraints.

Danny nodded stiffly and pulled himself onto the table. The restraints clamped down over his wrists, his ankles, his hips and his shoulders. They were cold and hard and custom-made to fit his body. They didn't allow him an inch of wiggle room and he had to grit his teeth against the instinctive urge to fight them. He hatedrestraints.

Vlad was pulling on a sanitary mask and slipping the massive metal gloves onto his hands.

With a sinister shiiiink! fearsome nails extended out of each of the ten fingertips and that was when Danny felt his first twinge of uncertainty. His heart jumped reflexively at the sight of those ten-inch spikes. If something went wrong when Vlad impaled him with those, Danny would die. Was he ready to die? Did he really want this?

'All ghosts are evil.'

Even if it succeeded, was he ready to part with his ghost half? He had failed his family and friends but hadn't he also saved people?

'I don't want to be evil.'

'...If I die... I might see them again.'

His last thought, as Vlad sank the claws into his body and plunged him into a sea of agony, was a dim sadness that he would never get to fly again.

:o:

Fear.

The terror bled from him like the red life that ran from his punctured stomach. It consumed him. He couldn't think as his entire world consisted of the overpowering urge to run and hide.

Only he couldn't run. He was still bound hand and foot to the table. All he could do was cower and cry.

Something had gone wrong.

Vlad had ripped out his ghost half, as promised. Between the waves of pain, he remembered one glorious moment of guilt-free relief and then everything had gone straight to Hell.

Briefly, he had looked into the eyes of his ghost-half and in that vivid gaze he'd found such hurt and betrayal that it resonated as a spiritual pain within his own being. Then, the moment was broken and the ghost, his ghost—Phantom—had turned on Vlad. Phantom's face had transformed into something bestial in its black rage.

Vlad only had time to blanche before Phantom had ripped himself free of the gauntlets with a wild shriek of pain. So shocked was Vlad by this display of masochistic willpower that he was unable to protect himself when the ghost, dripping ectoplasm, had lunged and struck Vlad across the temple with a vicious right hook.

Then, suddenly the gauntlets were on Phantom's hands. Then Vlad was screaming and then Phantom was screaming.

Somehow, Plasmius and Phantom had combined. Combined in a horrific, hideous way and Danny was abruptly seized by the strong premonition that they had made a very bad mistake.

The energy this new ghost was discharging tore through the room, shattering glassware and shorting out machinery. Something to Danny's left exploded and he flinched, but was unable to go far as the restraints held him tightly in place. Something on the countertop was on fire and Vlad was face down, completely unconscious, too close to the rising flames. Danny began to struggle in earnest against the restraints, a bubble of true panic rising in his throat. For the first time in a long time he begged for help from that cold monster that resided in his heart.

But as he'd thrown it away it now abandoned him.

He was no longer half ghost.

Slowly the ringing in his ears died enough for Danny to realize that Phantom-Plasmius' screams had turned into manic giggling. Danny's heart pounded in his ears and his breathing quickened. There was too much smoke in the room. An alarm was blaring—what was going on? Danny couldn't see Phantom anymore—had he—?

A face pierced through the smoke and thrust right up into Danny's, inciting an involuntary yelp of fear and shock. The face that stared back blinked at him with equally wide eyes but then it's mouth, much wider than Danny's own, stretched out into a wide grin and a black snake's tongue unrolled to hang lazily in the air.

"Ssso…" The thing hissed and Danny utterly froze as a clawed hand came up to touch his cheek. "I hate me that much that I would curse me out to less than half an existence? Not me anymore is it? I am new now. Different. More or less? Two-halves—they smash together and don't quite fit. But they will. They will. I cast me aside so I don't want you, me, anymore. How does it feel to be alone, little me? Less than whole—half a creature?"

Danny couldn't say anything, his tongue completely tied in his head. He could only cringe when the hand gripping his face turned bruising. The ghost held Danny's jaw tight and drew blood with its nails.

"Only human now, yes, little me?" Phantom-Plasmius said manically and leaned in, head twitching to slant sideways. "I have a secret, me." It said. "Do I want to know?"

"W-what?" Danny coughed.

"I… wasn't the one who cheated on that test. It wasn't my fault my parents were meeting Lancer outside the Nasty Burger to talk about my cheating. It wasn't my fault Sam, Tucker and Jazz all went to plead on my behalf. It. Wasn't. Me."

The words were shards of truth in his heart and Danny screwed his eyes shut, cringing, trying to hide from the pain. But when the ghost's hand slammed down on his neck, cutting off his air, Danny's eyes snapped open.

"Call me a monster! Want me to become a monster? Now I AM! I AM A MONSTER NOW!" With a roar, the ghost pulled Danny by the throat through his restrains intangibly and tossed him across the room. Danny cried out as his back hit a table and he went skidding over the top, clearing it of books and glassware as he flew. Reaching the table's end, he tumbled uncontrollably over the edge, letting out a cry as he landed on the ground. There was a hiss, a crack and something exploded to his left, sending heated shards cutting across his face.

He hadn't yet gathered his wits before his hands were pushing on the ground. He crab-walked backward blindly in his panic, mind numb with fear, heedless of the broken shards cutting bloody strips into his palms. Above his head, a light bulb splintered and rained downward. The flames rose higher. The heat was beginning to hurt. Sweat dripped into his eyes and he panted, then coughed, then choked. Acrid smoke burned his throat and made his eyes water.

Only when he felt walls on both sides of himself did he realize he'd backed himself into a corner. Fire was everywhere, the crackle of the flames deafening, and behind the smoke loomed the sinister outline of the monster he had created.

There was nowhere left to run. Danny's eyes stung, blurry, and he felt the tears running down his cheeks. The fumes were stifling his lungs. He coughed, but the air he drew in burned even more, driving him into a fit until he could only wheeze weakly as the world spun before his eyes. He shook with the fear of suffocation and pressed himself against the wall, instincts screaming at him to make use of powers he no longer had.

He wrapped his arms around himself—over the puncture wounds from the Ghost Gauntlets—as though trying to hold himself together.

"I am the monster… " The ghost hissed, looking down at Danny as it rose above the flames.

Danny tilted his chin up. For the first time, he took in the ghost's appearance—the image of the monster he had created—and it was a nightmarish thing.

A patchwork of Phantom and Plasmius, the creature had Danny's face but topped by a head of fire instead of hair. Plasmius echoed in the bloodless, blue skin and the tattered cap. Phantom was visible in the slender frame and charred jumpsuit.

The feverish look on the ghost's face was foreign to both Phantom and Plasmius. Wild. Insane.

"Oh God…" Danny whispered, hands rising to cover his mouth as he began to understand. "What have we done?"

"I am NOT a monster! I AM!" The ghost leaned down and bellowed this contradictory declaration in Danny's face.

"I'm… I'm sorry…" Danny whispered. There was nothing else he could say.

"'I'm sorry'?" The ghost echoed. For an instant, the ghost's face gained child-like confusion. Loss. But in the next instant the too wide grin was back and the ghost cackled.

"I will kill you, little me, and then I won't be 'sorry'. I'll be dead!" It declared.

Danny trembled but he met the ghost's eyes evenly.

"Do it." He said, and he meant it.

The ghost raised its clawed hand.

'Dead end. I lose. Sorry, guys, that I turned out to be such a coward.'

Conceding his defeat utterly, Danny closed his eyes and waited for the end.

A moment passed, then two, and his brow furrowed as more time passed and he felt no pain.

His eyes opened and he looked up from his submission, meeting eyes that had once been his but now reflected the colour of dripping blood. Their gazes locked.

'Why?' He silently asked the creature before him.

He would never know the reason for Phantom's inability to kill him. The ghost merely considered his pitiful, defeated figure with an unfathomable expression. Then, without a backward glace or any explanation, it turned and, with an expulsion of sickly-looking, green-pink energy, rocketed through the ceiling.

Hardly audible over the blaze of the fire, the sparking of the electronics and the thudding of his own pulse in his ears, was an urgent beeping. Looking over, Danny saw that Phantom-Plasmius had left a parting gift: the ectofiltrator of Vlad's Ghost Portal had been blasted to a gooey mess and it dripped over the console of the Portal. Without that filter, the Portal couldn't regulate its system. There was, maybe, half a minute before the entire thing would explode, taking the house and surrounding half-mile out with it.

From his position on the ground, Danny gazed up at the Portal as it counted down the last seconds of his life and let out a bone-weary sigh.

That was it, then. His end. How fitting that the last Fenton would meet also meet his end in a massive, fiery explosion.

His head drooped, strands of sweaty, too-long black hair falling in front of his eyes.

And Phantom had left him to die here alone.

'No. Not alone…' His eyes flicked to Vlad's unconscious body. Though covered with black filth and shards of glass, the man was still thankfully untouched by the fire.

Danny found himself grateful for this. No matter if they both died in half a minute, he didn't want to witness Vlad burning to death,

'You were a fruitloop and a shoddy guardian.' He thought at the man.

'But...'

There were half-remembered instances of kindness: the occasional hand on his head, a dark figure haloed in light peering into his room in the dead of night…

'You aren't all bad.' Danny allowed.

Vlad, at least, hadn't killed anyone.

"I'm sorry." Danny whispered to Vlad's deaf ears. "If I could change anything, it'd be that you wouldn't die here with me."

The Ghost Portal was blaring alarmingly, the red light of its emergency indicator dying the room crimson. The panel on the console counted down.

'Five…' Danny followed the numbers. 'Four.'

'Three. I'm going to see you soon, guys.'

'Two.' Something in Danny's heart seized and he involuntarily let out a pained keen. 'Oh God, I don't want to—' He violently stifled the thought.

'One.'

Danny's eyes closed.

"TIME OUT!"

The call came out of nowhere and the strong voice behind it was foreign. Danny felt a bizarre sensation: the world stiffened.

A blast of cool air hit his flushed cheeks.

No explosion.

His eyes shot open. He made to stand up but the movement was aborted as his stomach aggressively reminded him that it had a few more holes punched into it than normal.

'I'm... alive?'

A ghost floated before him. Cloaked in a voluminous purple robe the ghost had a scarred face and held a bizarre sceptre crowned by a glowing clock.

The sudden appearance of this new and unknown ghost was definitely strange but Danny was more immediately distracted by the fact that the world had suddenly and inexplicably frozen around him.

He gazed around himself with wide eyes. There were tongues of fire frozen mid-reach, glowing sparks hung suspended in the air like miniature stars and across the room he could see the very beginning of the explosion that was supposed to end his life.

'I'm alive.' He was relieved?

Confused, dazed and disoriented, he reached out to touch the flames closest to him.

"I would advise against that, Daniel."

Danny recoiled at the voice, and grimaced as his body protested the movement. Looking up he noticed that the ghost before him had a long, prominent beard that spilled over his cloak and obscured much of his face. That was odd—he hadn't noticed a beard before.

"While we are currently existing safely outside of time, it is ill-advised to influence haphazardly with the frozen realm."

"What…?" Danny had no idea what the ghost was talking about. "Who are you? And how do you know me?"

"My name is Clockwork. I am the Master of Time and I know you because I have been tasked with watching you. I have come before you to offer—"

"Wait. You're the Master of Time?" Danny interrupted incredulously. "There's a ghost in charge of Time?"

"Yes. While I understand your disbelief, I beg that you take a look around yourself. I doubt you could find a more fitting demonstration of my abilities." The ghost's voice was dry.

'I'm still alive.' Irritation flashed through Danny.

"You did this?" Danny asked, gesturing at the world frozen around them. The ghost nodded and Danny continued. "Right… Ok, then. Excuse me if I'm slow. It isn't everyday I get interrupted mid-dramatic death scene to chat with a time-traveller." Oh… where had that come from? It had been a while since he'd pulled out snark like that.

"I am not a time traveller." The ghost corrected mildly. "I can see through time but time-travelling is trite. It is only done by those incapable of solving their own mistakes in time."

Danny didn't really have anything kind to say to that, so he just stayed quiet and waited for the ghost to hurry up and get to his point.

'So close... I'm so close to seeing you again...!'

"My job, as a guardian, is to keep watch over time and ensure that things are proceeding as they should. On that note, I have come to offer you a choice, Daniel Fenton. What I will ask you is such: do you want to live?"

"… Huh?" Danny blinked, not comprehending the question as it seemed to bounce right off his finely laid plans for his near future.

"Perhaps I should explain. This situation… it is quite unprecedented. My station has always been that of a watcher, never an interferer. Simply by coming here to meet you, I am offending the natural order and contravening innumerable rules. The Observants vowed never to interfere with what is meant to be. But I am different, I have insight on what is, what could be, what may be, what shall be… and I am here to give you the opportunity to change the current course of your fate."

"Change the—? What? How…?" Danny still didn't understand.

Before his eyes, the ghost's appearance altered: from an old man, the ghost took on the body of a young child. His eyes remained keen and it was unnerving to see such a severe expression on a child's face.

"It is unfortunate that we have come to this point." The ghost stated, gazing around at the ruined lab. "I had hoped you would have been stronger, that you would have fought through your depression and not allowed yourself to resort to such irrational desperation…"

The disappointment in the ghost's tone sent twin needles of shame and outrage through Danny. How dare this ghost judge him?

"Yet here we are and, in spite of everything, I find that I still have faith in you." The ghost considered him. "I heard your wish and want to know: what would you give?"

Danny wondered if he really was exceptionally slow because he still had no idea what this ghost was talking about. "Huh?" He asked intelligently.

To his surprise, the ghost gave him a soft smile. The expression emphasized the scar running over his lip. "What would you give," the ghost repeated, "to save the life of that one?" and with a slow motion, the ghost swept out an arm and gestured at Vlad.

"Oh…" Now Danny understood. Or he thought he did, anyway. "What do I have to give? I have nothing worth anything. But… I do want to save him. I haven't really been fair to him. He tried. He actually tried for me. And… he's one crazy fruitloop but I still… his life... I care about his life. I care about him." Now that was a revelation. When did that happen anyway? "It's my fault he's in this mess and I don't want any more people to die because of me. So… what do I have to give?"

The ghost was silent as he stared into Danny's eyes, searching for something. At length, the reply came. "Your life."

"My… life?" Danny scoffed derisively. "Ha! Yes. Sure. I'll give my life. I was going to die anyway. If Vlad survives on the way then I'll at least have one less regret as I head on."

"You misunderstand." The ghost hummed, and morphed again—this time changing from child to adult. "I am not asking you to give up your life. I am asking you to keep it."

"Come again?" Danny blinked, and then the implications of the ghost's words sunk in and he felt a cold chill run down his spine.

"I am saying that in order for you to save Vlad's life, you, too, must choose to continue living."

"I…" He stammered. This was a whole different thing altogether. It shouldn't really be such a difficult decision. And yet, quitting had seemed like the one last thing he had any control over. If this ghost took even that choice from him…

"You... you don't get it. I… can't live here. I can't keep living here…" He pleaded.

"I understand. I do not approve, but I have foreseen this and I can arrange to take you somewhere far away from Amity Park."

Danny gaped at the ghost for a long time. His brain felt like a jammed clock clicking ineffectively and he just couldn't… couldn't…

"Wait… wait, um…"

"Clockwork." The ghost supplied patiently, somehow divining that Danny was searching for his name.

"Right. Clockwork." He nodded, feeling a familiar wry twinge at the irony. He could hardly judge; he called himself Danny Phantom after all.

Or he used to. Someone—something—else owned that name now.

Something the ghost had said was bothering Danny. "You said… you said something about being a guardian?"

"Yes." Clockwork acknowledged.

"And you watched me, specifically?" A frown twitched on Danny's eyebrows as he asked this question.

"Yes, I was charged with the duty of ensuring you continued on the proper path."

"Then… then why? Why didn't you stop it? Why didn't you help me save them?" Danny's voice broke and he felt his eyes well as he stared up at the ghost.

Clockwork looked displeased. Or conflicted. Danny couldn't tell. "Everything… is as it should be."

Danny's eyes widened and he swept at his eyes angrily. "How can you say—!"

"It may sound cold to you, child, but no one may escape the cycle of life and death."

"But you're interfering in that to save me right now!"

"Your time has not yet come."

"Who decides that? You?"

"I don't expect you to understand. But you will accept my words. Your family and friends are dead. You are not and, if you wish for that man to survive the night, then you will continue to live." Clockwork spoke with infinite patience and not an ounce of warmth and it made Danny's blood boil. If only he weren't crippled by the wounds to his stomach, he would have given this Clockwork a piece of his mind.

If he weren't crippled by…

In that brief moment, Danny mourned the loss of his ghost powers.

"You…" Danny was flabbergasted. Words failed him as he tried to express how he felt toward Clockwork in that moment. "I… Fine." He raised his chin. "I agree. Now what?"

Clockwork had the gall to look pleased. "Now I will remove us from this unpleasant setting." Raising his sceptre, Danny only had the time to blink and look around himself in alarm before his vision was overcome by swirling green energy.

When the green cleared, Danny felt himself fall back down onto a cushioned seat. He groaned and pressed a bloody palm to his stomach. When the waves of agony subsided to something more bearable, he opened his eyes and looked around.

He was someplace dark. Clockwork was floating nearby—again in the shape of an old, bearded man—and Vlad was unconscious on a red upholstered couch matching the armchair Danny was currently seated on. The walls were tall arches of medieval stone blocks and there was a deep, constant tick-tocking that reverberated straight through his heart. He looked up and the source of the sound became clear: countless giant cogs and gears turned, turned, turned, grinded and pushed against one another, high above his head.

He was in a giant clock tower.

"Before we go through with this," Clockwork was saying, and Danny tore his eyes away from the dizzying, slightly nauseating sight of the infinite cogs, to focus back in on the ghost. "I must ask you again: are you certain you will not return to Amity Park?"

Danny's expression darkened. "Yes."

"Even if I tell you that the ghost you had a direct hand in creating is currently making a beeline toward your hometown, intent on destruction and cutting a swath of devastation wherever he goes?"

He swallowed. The guilt and responsibility were heavy on his shoulders. "I… am sure someone will stop him." He said. Clockwork gave him an unimpressed look, but as Danny continued to speak he became more certain. "The Guys in White. Valerie. Vlad. What can I do that they can't?"

Clockwork gave him a strange expression. "You discredit yourself too quickly, hybrid."

"Except I'm not anymore, am I?" Danny's vision was beginning to fade from blood loss but he made an effort to look Clockwork straight in the eye as he said this. He felt oddly defiant.

'It's gone. Nothing you or I can do about it now.' Danny thought at Clockwork.

"I'm useless as the next person now." Danny continued in a low voice. "So me and Vlad created one more evil ghost. Big deal. Seems to me the world was doing better before Danny Phantom came along, anyway."

Clockwork rested his cryptic stare on Danny and the boy felt his own gaze slipping away from that oppressive gaze. The ghost seemed to be expecting something of him, and for whatever reason, he was sure he was falling short of those expectations. Hunching into himself, he gripped his elbows and cast his eyes to his knees. Something tiny and sharp twisted behind his ribs, but he suffocated it long before it could turn into regret.

He pressed his lips against his teeth, stubbornly staying silent and waiting for Clockwork's decision. He hoped it would come quickly—his head was pounding and his throat and lungs burned.

"Very well." The ghost said at length, and some of the tension eased out of Danny's shoulders. "I respect your choice."

"Before you leave I will gift you this: the symbol of Ajna." Clockwork drew a glowing sign in the air, which, to Danny's eyes, looked much like a stylized '30' crowned by the flourish of a pen stroke. "It will allow you to speak and understand the language. Unfortunately, there is no quick spell to teach you how to read or how to write. You will have to learn that on your own."

"Wait… language? Where am I going?" Danny asked as Clockwork made a vague gesture in his direction. The glowing symbol floated over to Danny, shimmering before his face, before it swept around to Danny's back.

"Wait—"

"Hold still." Clockwork ordered. "The symbol must be placed in the correct spot otherwise the magic will be ineffective."

Despite his better judgement, he did hold still. The magic crackled and it felt like a hot needle was being pressed against the back of his neck. He hissed and raised a hand to clap over the spot.

"Leave it. The power must settle and you should not irritate it any more than necessary. Now, I have readied the portal." At Clockwork's feet was a glowing tear in the ground, dark purple energy swirled within the vortex and it didn't look at all enticing to Danny.

"You want me to jump into that?" He asked, reluctantly lowering his hand from his still stinging neck.

"If you wish to leave, then this is your path."

Tentatively, Danny stood, arms wound around his midsection. He drew in a sharp breath between cinched teeth and stepped forward on wobbly legs to gaze warily into the portal.

"Your wounds are severe." Clockwork noted the obvious. "Unfortunately, I cannot heal them. Nor do I possess any medicine to ease the pain. However, the people in the place to which you are headed will care for you suitably."

"Right. The place. And where is this place exactly?"

"You will soon find out. Now step through, Daniel. Unless there is something else you wish to tell me."

"Right… " He thought for a moment and, as far as he could see, there was really only one loose string that needed tying. "Just…" He hesitated. "Just, promise me you won't tell him, ok?"

"Who, Daniel?"

"Vlad." Danny nodded to the man still lying on the couch unconscious. "Don't tell him I'm alive. I… would prefer if no one knew, but especially him." 'He doesn't need to know that I would rather run away to some unknown place than live with him.' What was the emotion driving that thought? He didn't know, and didn't really want to know.

Clockwork was once again considering Danny closely but, eventually, the time master nodded.

"I will do as you ask."

"Thank you." Danny breathed sincerely. Then, plucking up his nerve he gazed into the purple depths of the vortex.

'Well, Fenton… it's a spinning vortex of purple that will transport you to some unknown location. What could possibly go wrong?' Danny looked sideways at Clockwork. "Don't suppose this thing has any good in-flight movies?"

Clockwork's flat expression didn't budge.

"All right, I'm going. Fine." Danny grit his teeth. "No need to get all excited." Slowly, he shifted forward until his bare toes hung over the point where the pallid stone turned to simmering energy.

'Why am I going along with this? Because he said he'd save Vlad?' Danny's head tilted and he regarded Vlad lying on the couch. 'Am I really that desperate?' He wasn't sure he was.

Abruptly, he tsked at himself, lips curling into a snarl.

'Ah, to hell with it.'

He stepped forward.

:o:

He'd half-expected that the portal would drop him off some twenty or forty feet above the ground, plunging him to his demise, but it was not to be. Danny appeared in a forested area, his toes mere inches above the ground, and he touched down lightly.

The sense of danger hit him like a smack in the face and his head snapped around, eyes squinting. It was too dark to see, but hard earned instinct moved his body for him.

He twisted on one foot and spun to the side.

There was a hiss of air and something sharp cut by his temple.

That move cost him as the pain that spiked from his stomach drove him to his knees with a cry. Then, a knife buried itself into his shoulder and it was too much. He swooned, closing his eyes and collapsing on his side.

Voices were exchanging words around him, but to Danny they were incomprehensible. The world was spinning, even behind his closed eyelids he could feel everything spinning and it made him nauseous. Heaving uncontrollably, he managed to roll over and push his body up on one teetering elbow while the other clutched at his damaged midsection.

His throat burned and he hacked pitifully, but he hadn't eaten that entire day and the only thing that came up was acid and blood.

When the fit passed, Danny was left utterly spent. His arms shook and he simply crumpled, lying in the grass, eyes half-lidded and dazed.

Why was the night so dark? He wondered absently. Usually he could see just fine in… oh…

No more ghost powers.

The voices had gotten louder and suddenly Danny could understand.

"Good job, Monkey, you killed a civilian."

"How do you know he's a civilian, Weasel? He just appeared out of nothing, he could be—"

"Just look at him, he's foreigner. What's more… Hawk!"

"What?"

"Check his Chakra coils."

There was a moment of silence. Then—

"That—that cannot be! He…"

"What?"

"He has no Chakra. That shouldn't be possible. But I can't see anything, unless he's blocking my ability?"

"Then he can block mine as well."

"Weasel? You mean—"

"Hey, guys, he's moving."

Danny was shifting, trying to open his eyes and focus through the fuzziness. He struggled to see his would-be killers.

Two figures stood over him and one crouched. Each of them was clothed completely in black and they wore masks on their faces. Danny frowned at the masks uncomprehendingly.

"Hey, hey you, what's your name?" One asked.

Danny stared at him for a long time as he processed the question.

"No good, he's in shock. Should we take him back?" The second said.

"I don't know, Weasel, I—" The third started, but Danny wasn't interested in him, he had just noticed something striking and rather surprising about the second figure.

"You…" He whispered and the three figures before him froze. "You… have a ghost on you." Danny informed Weasel.

"W-What?" Somehow, in spite of the masks, Weasel managed to convey confusion. But Danny's attention was caught by the dimly glowing, pearly figure hovering over Weasel's shoulder. At the word 'ghost' the spirit's head rose sharply and a jolt of shock ran through Danny as he saw that the ghost had no eyes.

"You… can see me?" The ghost asked in barely restrained hope. Danny gave a bleary dip of his head.

"By the toenails of the Second!" The ghost swore in a way that made no sense to Danny. "I don't know how you're doing this, but please, tell him for me… Tell him I'm sorry I couldn't look after him better… I wish things could have turned out differently. He has to understand that I never intended for Danzo… for them to use me against him like this. I… tell him I trust him and will always watch over him but he needs to understand this path he's taking… it's only going to hurt people! Tell him… tell him…"

Danny, being in absolutely no way capable of following, let alone conveying, such a long message in his injured state, could only stare uncomprehendingly at the frantic apparition.

"What are you babbling about? I do not have a ghost." Weasel gripped irritably.

"My name!" The ghost insisted. "Tell him my name! I'm—"

"—Shisui. " Danny murmured.

That got an immediate reaction. Weasel visibly stiffened.

"What are you talking about?" Weasel demanded, leaning close to Danny, taking hold of the shoulder which wasn't bleeding everywhere and gripping it tight. "How do you know that name? Who told you that name?"

But Danny had reached his limit. The shadows had consumed his vision and he sagged against Weasel as his eyes fluttered closed. The last thing he remembered was being lifted bodily into the air.

"Come," Weasel told the others. "We're taking him back to Konohagakure."

:o:

END PART I

To be continued in PART II – ITACHI

:o: