Hey everyone, another update for you! For some reason, FNN's view counter and visit counter is like completely busted for me, I know this sounds like a line for more feedback or something but I'm serious in saying that is the only way for me now to know if you guys are seeing this and are enjoying it. That being said after publishing this chapter I'm planning on revising Act I's interlude and chapter 4. Those by far were the worst in quality to me, especially at the time of me posting it. I feel like you guys deserve better than that so I'm going to be spending some time to rework it better into the narrative. ~Cosmo


Randy had noticed his new pals appeared to be tense. Well, they were always tense. Actually, they seemed tense-ist when he was around. He wondered if he was reading into that. Sam had been clicking her pen so fast and hard that the plastic was beginning to crack. Tucker scratched his head so much that you would've thought the poor kid had lice. Danny had this resting look on his face that could kill a man on contact. A dark cloud of energy radiated over them. It made him nervous to see them like that because usually, what came next was so much worse. Though he knew deep down that he was the cause of their anger, it still didn't hurt him any less. It wasn't so much that it was emotionally painful; Cunningham had become physically apprehensive as well. Like how broken bones always ache before a coming rain.

He didn't exactly have fond memories of monster drills growing up. Randy found himself balling his fists when people didn't take them seriously. Oftentimes students were injured by evacuating rather than the monsters. In a way, it confirmed to Randy that self-preservation was stronger than compassion. Every single time.

Sam, Tucker, Danny seemed like good kids. Though their actions at Nasty Burger may have left more of a sour taste in his mouth. Even so, he needed them. He needed someone close to the Phantom. He needed the Phantom.

Lancer addressed the class from a collection of note-cards, "Today marks the second day of the big exchange program. Amity Park and Norrisville have had a very fruitful relationship for many years," He paused with a large sigh, "Mcfist industries, one of Norrisville's crowning companies, known for creating their circuit boards through recycled materials and keeping American jobs intact-"

"Oh my Brother, my Brother and me," Mr Lancer exclaimed with his boredom. He cycled through the cards, "I'm an English teacher, by the bard himself! Not a soulless financial literacy guru- "

"I am not making you kids write an essay on the autobiography of Hannibal Mcfist." The teacher picked up his wastebasket and disposed of the notes, "I may be a warrior of the pen, but I will not allow capitalist propaganda in this classroom."

Tucker groaned while Sam raised a rocker-fist in solidarity.

"However, I am obligated by the board to at least teach you something about Norrisville." He stole a glance at the attendance sheet, "So, why don't we cover what Norrisville is most known for besides electronics and theme parks- The Norrisville Ninja."

There were a few sporadic claps.

"Randy Cunningham, since you are our sole Norrisville representative in class today, would you care to give us a testimonial of your experiences?"

Randy fidgeted in his seat, "Er- uh actually, there is a video that I think could better summarize my experiences with the ninja." He grasped his crutch in an attempt to stand, "Would it be okay if I use the projector?"

"No funny business," Lancer warned while rolling down the screen.

"Of course," the 9th grader assured, he staggered over to the computer. After a few seconds of typing, he signaled to Mr Lancer that he was prepared.

Mind still spinning away with thoughts, Danny was still surprised to hear no one besides Randy, Tucker, Sam, Valerie, and that Dragon had seen the ninja in Amity Park. Even when Tucker and Sam gave their statement to the proper authorities about a third combatant, no leads turned up. He was having a hard time seeing why people celebrated the ninja. All sources Tucker could find on the ninja claimed that he was nothing but a monument of peace. A benevolent spirit that helped keep the citizens of Norrisville safe. At the Nasty Burger, he struck underhandedly at every opportunity. And that comment, 'It isn't personal.'

Benevolent spirits aren't bought. Spirits don't need money. Spirits wanted power, and they wanted baubles; they wanted attention. But when you're dead, currency didn't seem to matter. What would an eight-hundred-year-old spirit need for money? Ninja or not, where was he going to spend his money?

Danny was convinced that either someone had to be impersonating the ninja for their own personal benefit or the ninja wasn't who everyone thought he was, to begin with.

"Ms Manson, could you get the lights?"

Sam took a break from her pen cracking to cross the room and turn off the overhead fluorescents. Danny caused the bulbs to flicker momentarily, to get her attention.

"Hey, ditch second period." Fenton whispered, "I need to talk to you guys. Pass it on."

With a nod, Sam returned to her seat. Fenton used to sneak out during class, but Lancer would time Danny's supposed 'visits' to the restroom before sending a hall monitor to track him down. Despite being a pain, you had to admire his dedication to keeping Amity Park educated.

After the video loaded, Randy pressed the spacebar.

A ginger-haired teenage girl with a mole on her cheek, closer to Jazz's age, was in a plush red recording studio. Leaning into a pink fluffy microphone, she declared, "I'm Heidi Wienerman, and- What's up Norrisville High? That's right; it's morning announcements!"

The video consisted of the girl giving the schedules for clubs and practices along with a few witticisms. It was a charming little show that seemed to be informative if you were a Norrisville student. Heidi, while coming off as a charismatic improviser she did throw in an odd opinion on the lunch menu or a student that particularly got on her nerves.

Lancer wasn't getting the point of the video, but before he could ask-

Heidi produced a party popper from under her desk; she explained, "Okay, I know everyone is waiting for me to drop the newest gossip compilation, but I purpose in an effort to show appreciation toward our school's protector- we dedicate this segment to him!"

Pop!

"I'd like to thank my dorky brother, Howard, for the idea, oh- and his pal Rocko."

Randy rolled his eyes.

The girl put her hand in front of the camera, and in a smooth transition, the video switched to a hand-held phone capturing a large towering monster in a ripped band uniform. The monster roared and spat while picking up a car from the teachers parking lot- winding up for a throw when suddenly-

"Ninja-sword slash!"

In the blink of an eye, there was a white flash cutting across the monster's hat. Once the hat was destroyed, the monster was then blanketed and wrapped in a green mist. The black-clad ninja landed in front of the mist victorious.

There were more instances of the ninja demonstrating heroics. Saving students, befriending them, performing flips and tricks for onlookers. And, of course, receiving blow after blow from lumbering kaiju-sized monsters. Or laser blasts from robot gorillas. However, that didn't seem to stop the ninja; he simply got back up. Gave a nod, a line about how it barely hurt. Cutting and collaging itself into a wall, countless other cell phone videos all the while a slow piano ballad played under the footage.

"He wears a mask, but don't we all? When he's not around, you gotta stand tall-!" The vocalist sang with a quaver in her voice, showing unfeigned emotion.

The instrumental hit a lull and settled down for a moment. The video collage faded.

One more handheld video played, a student spotting the ninja attempting to catch his breath after a monster siege. The ninja sat down, thinking he was alone. He reached behind his head-

"Wait!"

The Ninja looked up to the person wielding the phone. He- he froze.

"Ninja, before- before you take off, could you- could you please tell us what you- what do you love about Norrisville High?"

Clearly exhausted, the ninja still put on a friendly effect despite how poorly he was carrying himself physically. He looked… oddly small at that moment despite still towering over the other students. As if all he had holding him upright was his own arms. Clutching the side of his body, he turned his injuries away from the camera's view.

"What do I love about Norrisville High?"

"That's easy. Year after year, I get to see and know the faces of the future, the kids who will become the people to change the world. What I love about Norrisville High is I know, without me around, the world is in good hands."

The Ninja raised his hand toward the sky-

"Smoke Bomb!"

In a cloud of pink, he disappeared.

The camera person nearly dropped their camera in surprise and exclaimed, "Oh my god! I just saw- did anyone else see that!?"

The video cut and transitioned back to Heidi in her studio. She seemed to be fanning and choking back a rehearsed sob, "Ugh! I couldn't agree with him more. Alright- reel it in, girl."

"With that, I'll be giving it back to the teachers. If you wish to download that song, it's on my SoundCloud. Have a fresh day Norrisville Carps!"

The video ended with a close Norrisville Carp logo. And Lancer switched the lights back on; he appeared to be somewhat moved. Though the teacher was hard to read, he helped Randy back to his seat in a moment of 'softness.' He praised, "Thank you for that video, Mr Cunningham. I believe it helped in enlightening the class on what values Norrisville holds dear besides vapid consumerism."

He clarified, "No offense, Mr Cunningham."

"None taken, teach." Randy leaned his crutches against the wall, "There are actually thousands of videos like this on the NHN tag. It's uh- overwhelming."

"I know it feels easy to give in to trends, liking the ghost punk maybe in vogue now, but traditionalist values like that which the ninja upholds, the idea of legacy, honor, and dignity under pressure, those you can apply to your daily lives."

A few students booed and heckled the time-worn argument of old versus new being brought into their classroom.

Randy chuckled as soon as the word dignity appeared, "I mean- we're all allowed to interpret what he does differently."

Lancer returned to the front of the classroom, pulling the projector closed. He posed, "and what do you believe the ninja's values are, Mr Cunningham?"

"I... He- to me he represents…" Randy blinked, he tapped the desk, "the ninja represents…"

Danny noticed that Randy was struggling. Seemingly always the one with an answer to everything was drowning in air. Fenton studied him for a moment. It was easy to be intimidated by Lancer. Lancer didn't really accept 'I don't know' as an answer.

"The ninja to me represents the struggle of… courage."

"Do you think the ninja gets scared, Randy?"

Cunningham fumbled, "I know I would be- if I did…" he shrugged, "if I did what he did every day."

"Certainly," Lancer concluded. He clapped his hands together, "Now this reminds me of a fascinating tale of Samurai Miyamoto Musashi, see- What Musashi did best, was tiring out his opponents, using the element of surprise. He killed his first opponent when he was twelve years old because someone older misjudged his abilities."

Lancer parked himself in his rolling chair, "Musashi wasn't a traditionalist by any sense of the word- he viewed tradition as- as a prison. He wasn't even a samurai; he reclaimed the title for himself. He was without a master, same as the Norrisville Ninja. Though I believe through the ninja honoring his conventional methods while appreciating and adapting to the youthful unconventional around him, he's a modern-day Musashi."

The Phantom couldn't stomach any more of this, waxing poetically about his enemy and his methods. How great he was compared to him. Danny voiced his opinion, "Lancer, could we maybe just get to the assignment?"

"Well, Danny, I think this is the first time in a lesson you've asked for more work," Lancer continued in his lofty tone, "Must make me the teacher of the year."

"I want you all on your own time at home to conduct research on Miyamoto Musashi, and bring me a piece of writing tomorrow morning- doesn't have to be your best work, just something that tells me you were paying attention today."

The students were at first excited that Lancer appeared to be so moved that he was giving them something easy to do. Then he crossed his arms sternly and ordered, "it has to be two thousand words or more. I will be counting, boys and girls, I will be counting."


The bell rang, and the students continued their daily migration to their respective classes. That is except the usual three, and Randy makes four.

Perhaps Randy trying to juggle his recently acquired crutches, as well as a full bookbag, was having a hard time navigating an unfamiliar school. Having to suddenly jump to it and go to another room he had never heard of-

"Wait! H-hey, Danny do you think-" He tried to hobble after the crew, "Do you think you could-"

Randy, with his arm tangled in his crutch's armbar and then his hoodie pocket, unfolded a wrinkly schedule paper single-handedly. Though he miscalculated his speed, sending the paper to the floor, "uh- point me in- aw womp-!"

Before Danny left Lancer's classroom, he heard Randy's voice on the edge of his ears. He didn't necessarily feel great about an exchange student hovering around his friends. He felt considerably worse that his friends didn't evacuate Randy or any of the civilians. Danny had found that Randy had been hiding under a table and trembling. Fenton caught the schedule for him. He looked at Randy's classes. There was no way Randy could travel that far with all his stuff-

Randy took back his schedule, "Thanks… Anyway, I wanted to know where room two-o-six is. Could you maybe tell me how to get there?"

"You're not going that far by yourself," Danny asserted, "that's on the second floor- and we don't have a service elevator."

"Oh, that's inconvenient," Randy sarcastically observed, unphased by the challenge.

Danny gestured for Sam and Tucker to go on, "Hey- guys, I'll meet you there. I'm going to make sure Cunningham gets to class."

"Sure thing." Tucker agreed, rolling up his sweater sleeves and moving out.

Sam hesitated and looked askance at Randy. Randy smirked in reply if nothing else but to get a rise out of her. She rolled her eyes and scoffed, exiting the classroom.

"I appreciate the thought, dude," Cunningham assured, "but I've handled worse, don't waste your time-"

"Oh save it," Danny jabbed, "you don't have to impress me."

He reached for Cunningham's backpack.

Without hesitation, Randy captured Danny's wrist in his hand with the tightest- superhuman grip. The pair paused. Danny didn't think to wrestle out of his grasp, but he felt his eyes widen. He suddenly became very aware that they were the only two left in the classroom.

"Er… Sorry, I'd like it if my books stay with me." Randy let go.

Fenton slowly and with greater indecision nodded. As Danny led the way, he rubbed his arm.