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Chapter Text

Danny is pretty sure if he asks this ghost ‘who hurt you’ he’d get a very long tale featuring a betrayal. 

He’s noticed a bit of a pattern to ghost obsessions. Some are simply strong interests from life carried over into death. Others are a driving desire to make things right.

And lucky ghosts, like him, get both!

Near as Danny can figure, this ghost, who introduced herself as Margo, had beef with her boyfriend that followed her to her grave. Even as a ghost, she’s diminished. Thin wrists and stringy hair, hollows to her cheeks. She had a slow, lingering death, her ghost unable to see herself as anything other than sick.

Margo shoots a beam of energy at Danny, who slides out of the way by extending his middle.

“You’re so slippery, ” she hisses. “Knowing when to turn, how to avoid a conversation,”

“Look lady, I’d much rather talk.”

“Liar! You lie all the time! To your friends, to your parents, to the people you protect!”

Danny winces. True points, though she can’t have known that. Margo has accused everyone in the school of lying - the teachers, the students, even Sydney. 

From under a desk, Paulina gasps. “Did you lie about not wanting to date me?”

Danny turns to look at her. Really? During a fight? “You’re not my type.”

“Liar!” Margo screams. “She’s totally your type!”

Danny faces her just as a mary jane hits him, sole smacking against his face. He glares at the shoe as it drops. Margo has already materalized another one on her foot and is reaching to take it off.

“Paulina is-” Danny chokes.

Margo cackles. “You can’t lie! No one can lie!” 

From behind a desk, Sam rolls out, ghost ray aimed. Margo dodges and chucks a shoe at Sam. It hits her leg, but Sam ignores it to try to fire at Margo again.

“So am I your type?” Paulina asks, crawling out from behind the desk.

Danny looks down at her from four feet in the air. At her large, lined eyes. Long, shiny black hair. Narrow waist, hourglass figure. “You’re totally my type,” he blurts out, “But I don’t want to date you.”

Danny slaps a hand over his mouth. He’d wanted to say a quip, something that wasn’t so true or blunt, that would let Paulina down gently but also not completely shut her down. Making Phantom accessible helps with city morale. 

Paulina stares up at him. Hurt flashes across her face, but she steels herself. “Why don’t you want to date me?”

Danny flicks his gaze to Sam, his actual girlfriend, but he cannot say that. Thankfully, Sam is still fighting Margo, and Sam’s filter has also been disabled by a shoe hit.

“I’m not a-, okay, maybe I am brat, but at least I’m not destroying people’s days!” Sam screams at Margo.

Margo gasps. Sam cannot lie, by Margo’s own powers, which means the ghost is destroying people’s days. Margo pauses at the truth of it, dropping in the air to land on the teacher’s desk. Except, she know the workaround tricks because it takes her only seconds to reply. 

“I refuse to believe that! Lies are what destroy things! Honesty is the best thing in the world!”

Danny wonders if her boyfriend had been in the habit of gaslighting a dying girl.

The classroom door bursts open to reveal Principal Ishiyama, chest huffing. Danny had forgotten until now about their English substitute, who he had seen fleeing the classroom after an actual trip to the bathroom, too excited by a legitimate excuse to not be in the room when Margo attacked. The sub must have gone straight to the head office, and here is Ishiyama, ready to help.

Danny doesn’t know what she expects to do - Sam is better armed than her. Her appearance however, catches everyone’s attention, and Danny uses the distraction to soup Margo up.

“No!” she screams, falling into the light.

Danny screws the cap on and then blows across the top of the lid. “Well, gotta go.”

“Wait!” Paulina scrambles to her feet. “You didn’t answer my question!”

Danny ignores her and phases through the ceiling. Five minutes later, he walks into the classroom. His classmates have just finished putting the desks back into neat rows, and Principal Ishiyama stands at the front of the room. 

“And where were you, Mr. Fenton?” she asks.

Danny wants to say the bathroom, but his throat catches. He’d been in the bathroom ten minutes ago, but somehow he knows what Ishiyama is really asking is ‘where were you during the ghost fight’ and the answer to that is ‘fighting the ghost’.

He sends a panicked glance to Sam, who catches on immediately. She walks her fingers down her thigh.

“I left to go to the bathroom,” Danny supplies. 

The principal accepts the answer and Danny continues to his seat uninterrupted. Ishiyama clears her throat.

“As your substitute has left for the day, I’ll be your sub for the rest of English.” She looks down at Mr. Lancer’s notes. “Where did Mr. Johnson leave off? Miss Manson?”

“We were on the second question at the back of the Scarlet Ibis story.” 

Groans sound around the classroom. Danny catches Star's mutter, “Why couldn’t she have said we were having silent reading time? Or finished?”

Looking at Sam, whose lips are pressed as tight as her fists on her thighs, Danny thinks she wanted to lie but couldn’t. Margo might be souped at the moment, but the impacts of her magical shoe hits are lingering. Sam cannot lie. Danny cannot lie either. 

He hopes it wears off before he gets home.

Ishiyama restarts the student discussion, walking around the classroom and passing back papers Lancer had assigned last week. Nothing major, the school year is just kicking off, but Danny already knows he’s on the school’s naughty list when Ishiyama places his essay on his desk upside down.

He flips it. The crumpled paper stares back at him. 'What I did on my summer vacation' sits there in big bold letters at the top. Danny had planned to write the whole five hundred words over the weekend, but when Monday came around, he panicked. Grabbed a paper from the library printer, wrote a crooked title, underlined it, and scribbled a measly four sentences.

This summer I hung out with my friends. We bowled in Sam’s basement. We went stargazing. We went shopping for new clothes.

His fingers trace the last one. He hadn’t meant to write it, but well, he had.

Mr. Lancer had written a note in red on the bottom of the paper. 

Thank you for turning this in, but this assignment was a typed, 500 word story about something you did this summer in to practice the use descriptive language. 

Under it is a capital F.

Danny shoves the essay into his English textbook. 

If he was going to get an F anyway, why had he even bothered turning the paper in? He could have finished his fries in that time.

When the bell rings, Danny gathers his stuff, eager to walk with Sam to their next class, but Principal Ishiyama calls out. “Stay a minute, Danny?”

Sam’s eyes are wide over her shoulder as she leaves with the rest of their classmates. Danny shoos her away.

Danny shuffles up to the desk, looking down at Ishiyama. The Casper High Principal is a short, Asian woman whom Danny has never seen as particularly kind. Even now, her face is stern. 

“I know last year was rough for you, Danny, but I had hoped you’d get your priorities straight and be back to your standard academic performance this year.”

“I tried, Principal Ishiyama. Honest.” He can be anything but right now. “It's just, other things came up last weekend that I had to take care of first.”

“So important and time-consuming you couldn’t write an essay?”

“Yes.” 

Ishiyama gives him a calculating look that Danny does not like. He should have answered her question with sass, but Margo’s powers require the truth, and it slips through his lips quickly.

“Danny.” It’s always Danny when things get serious or he’s in trouble. It’s Mr. Fenton in class, it’s Danny in one-on-one meetings. It almost bothers him as much as Vlad calling him Daniel, his teachers turning down the formality in an effort to connect.

“Danny,” Ishiyama says again, “Can you tell me a lie?”

He bites his lip. Ishiyama stares at him. The next bell rings, and still Ishiyama stares. Danny knows she will not let him leave until he answers. 

“No,” he whispers.

“Something to do with the ghost attack?”

“Yes.”

“I noticed Miss Manson was rather honest in her update about your lesson. Do you know why?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“The ghost hit her with her shoe.”

“And were you hit too?”

“Yes.”

Danny’s voice gets quieter and quieter, his shoulders hunching. Ishiyama stands, walks around the desk, and leans against it. Danny is barely taller than her, and he winces. 

Because he knows he’ll never be taller than this.

“Danny,” Principal Ishiyama says slowly, “Are you Phantom?”

The air in the room is heavy. Danny swallows. Wets his lips. 

“Yeah.” 

Ishiyama leans forward. Danny repeats himself, louder, so she can hear. “Yeah. I’m Phantom.”

The principal pulls back, hands linked in her lap. After a beat, she sighs. “I won’t tell anyone. And I won’t delay you further. I’ll write you a hall pass, on the condition that after school, you come to my office and tell me what kept you from writing this essay.”

Danny looks at the hall pass pad on Mr. Lancer’s desk. He could say no. Walk into math late, get the tardy. It’d be his third in three weeks of school, landing him in detention. If he has to stay after school anyway…might as well do it in the principal’s office and not in detention. Keep his record as clean as possible. 

He wants to be the model student he used to be. Wants to attend classes and get good grades and go to a good engineering college. 

Principal Ishiyama might help him get that chance. 

“I’ll take the hall pass.”

Danny doesn’t tell Sam and Tucker anything about Ishiyama figuring out his secret. He’s not sure what the consequences are, but he thinks this might be okay. She pushed for answers, but not details, and there’s no call on the PA for him. No GAV in the school parking lot. No GIW positioning themselves at the door. 

Besides, they’re too busy during lunch testing Margo’s powers. Every five minutes, Tucker asks Sam a question and she tries to lie while Danny tries to get ahead on math homework. 

By the end of lunch, Sam can correctly say her name is ‘Bubblegum Princess’. Margo’s powers last for two hours. Danny can lie to Ishiyama after school.

He considers it. He really does. He can make up a story, even ones that feature Phantom. 

Yet, when he walks into Ishiyama’s office, he doesn’t have a story in his head. Nor does Ishiyama doesn’t look like a principal. She’s taken off her suit jacket and is sitting in one of the chairs in front of her desk, a bag of candy within easy grabbing distance. Danny’s file on her crossed legs makes Danny a little nervous with flashbacks to Spetrca, but the biggest change is that Ishiyama’s hair is no longer in a prim French twist. She’s let it down. 

It’s as informal as Danny has ever seen her, and something in Danny releases. It eases further as she speaks. It's still formal, but her tone is soft, and it reminds him of the rare Sunday mornings when he pads downstairs to see his mom making pancakes.

“To start, I promise this conversation will stay private unless you tell me something that legally, I'll have to respond to. I will not tell your parents. I will not tell the GIW, or any teacher in the school. I'm an educator, and my goal is to help you learn. I want to understand what's going on so I can help you, but I also know that since you can’t lie, you're at a disadvantage here. You don’t have to answer my questions. You can leave whenever you want. But Danny, I truly just want to help.”

For the first time, she looks kind. Danny wonders if ‘Principal Ishiyama’ is a bit of a front like Phantom is. A strict principle to keep rowdy high school kids in line. 

She doesn’t realize Danny can lie again, and still tells him he doesn’t have to tell her everything. Danny sits in the chair across from her, thinking, and takes a candy.

“Let’s start small,” Ishiyama says. “Why didn’t you do your essay?”

Danny can lie. Can soften the blow. But tells the truth anyway.

“Do you remember Undergrowth?”

“The ghost who controls plants.”

“Yeah. They have a fondness for Sam. They showed up on her greenhouse Saturday morning, kidnapped her, and I had to go into the zone to rescue her.”

“Is Miss Manson okay?”

“You saw her today. Sam’s fine. Not the first time she’s been in the Zone. She, uh, knows. Tucker too.”

Ishiyama nods. “Sam still turned in that essay.”

“Sam had time to write it during the week.”

“And you didn’t?”

Danny holds up his hand to tick off fingers as he goes. “Monday night the Box Ghost showed up, all excited because there’s no post on Sundays and Monday then makes him very excited when packages show up on doorsteps again. Tuesday, my parents tried to do a family bonding night which went awkwardly. Wednesday, I did do homework, just not the essay. Thursday, Skulker tried to skin me again. Friday, it was the weekend! I went to see a movie. And then, well, Undergrowth stole my weekend time.”

Ishiyama blinks at him, then stares at his record. She opens the folder and Danny tenses, sure she’ll make notes or a snide comment, but there’s no pen in her hand and all she does is skim her hands over a grade sheet.

“I went over your file today in detail. You do well in classroom activities, and scored better on tests than homework. It’s not like you don’t understand the material, you just don’t have time to dedicate to homework or studying.”

Danny stares at her. 

“But the way I see it, you have time right now. There’s no ghost attack. You’re sitting here before me. So let’s redo your essay. Your assignment was to write a story about what you did this summer, using descriptive language. Tell it to me. What did you do last summer?”

All his teachers, including Mr. Lancer who is the most forgiving, saw him as a troubled teen by the end of last year. Someone who didn’t want to put effort into school. And here was his principal, seeing someone who wanted to but couldn’t. 

He wants to cry. He hasn’t felt so seen, so understood, by an adult in years. 

And the cherry on top is that even though Principal Ishiyama knows his secret, she’s not looked at him as anything other than a student in need of help. There’s no pity about his death. No prying question. Just someone armed with more knowledge of the situation identifying the issues and trying to see where they can help. 

Danny opens his mouth and the truth spills out. 

“This summer, I accepted my death.”

Chapter Text

It’s almost three weeks into summer vacation before he and Tucker go to the pool. Sam doesn’t come because her parents have signed her up for ballroom dancing. It’s one of the rare things they’ve picked out for her that she enjoys, not that she lets her parents know. Sam doesn’t mind feminine things. She just wants her version of femininity. 

It’s probably a good thing that she doesn’t come because Tucker is drooling. 

[“Like a dog,” he adds to Principal Ishiyama. “We were supposed to use smilies in our essay.”

“You can skip this part,” she deadpans.

“No, it’s important.”

"Really?"

“Do you want to argue, or let me finish this essay before another ghost attacks?”

She waves her hand, and Danny clears his throat.]

Tucker is drooling. “How did I not realize that Star got boobs this year?”

Danny doesn’t answer, but he’s also slyly checking out the classmates he can see. Not just girls, who suddenly seem to have breasts, but also the guys. Dash and Kwan had always been muscular, but they seem even more defined now. Even Wes has visible biceps. 

Danny has seen all of his classmates nearly every day for the past nine months, but now that he’s taken a break from them for three weeks, and many are showing more skin than Principal Ishiyama would allow - 

[“Seriously, you can skip this part.”

Danny ignores her.]

-it strikes Danny just how much puberty has been hitting his classmates. The girls have hips and cleavage, the boys have muscles and dropped or cracking voices. Danny can’t help but stare out of the corner of his eye, while Tucker has no shame in peeking over the edges of his sunglasses. 

“Man, I’m so glad we came to the pool today,” Tucker says. 

Danny uses Tucker’s distraction as cover to check him out. Dressed in only red swim trunks, there’s a lot of Tucker to observe. His leg hair is hard to see, but his armpit hair is obvious. There’s also the faint hint of abs, courtesy of running around on patrol, and a shape to his arms that’s less benchpressing and more moving heavy equipment. 

Tucker is nowhere near as built as Dash, or even Wes, but he’s not a noodle.

Danny drops his gaze to his own legs. He’s got a light smattering of leg hair, but his underarms are more fuzz than anything. His voice is still the same high tone from two years ago. And despite all the fighting he does as Phantom, all the aches in his muscles after he transforms that tells him he’s using his body, you can’t make out any muscle on Danny's frame. No hit of an ab, or pecs, or biceps or quads.

Combined with his white skin, Danny 100% feels like a noodle.

He hates it. 

He pushes himself to his feet. “I’m gonna go down the waterslide, wanna come?”

“In a minute,” Tucker says, shamelessly oogling Valerie. 

Danny rolls his eyes and leaves his best friend on the lawn chair.

Sorry. Doom night cancelled. Not feeling well.

Feel better! Danny answers Sam in the group chat. 

Danny collapses back onto his bed, disappointed. He’d been so eager for tonight - a slumber party at Sam’s where they took turns playing Doom on the new projector her parents installed. With a big screen and new sound system, it had promised to be an epic night. 

He’s not going to ask his parents if Tucker can spend the night at his place - Fentonworks has never been a hang spot for them since the accident. 

[“Accident?” Ishiyama asks softly. 

Danny looks at her. She knows he’s Phantom, and Danny told her that this summer he accepted his death, but…

Danny shoves another candy in his mouth. “Story for another time,” he says. “Just know that we don’t avoid it like the plague, but it’s never in our top ten choices.”

He appreciates that she doesn’t push.]

Danny doesn’t want to ask Tucker to sleep over, but Tucker’s parents are willing to let him. It’s a fun night of PvP games and pizza and tossing M&M at each other. Danny laughs when Tucker’s voice cracks, and he blushes a dark red in embarrassment. 

“Just wait until your voice starts cracking!”

“I will not sound as bad as you.” Danny forces his face to smile; the stretch pulls at his skin as if it were a dry rubber band. 

Later, when he uses the bathroom, he pokes through Tucker's variety of scents and deodorants. Teen guys’ BO is legendary, Danny is well aware of the funk of the boys' locker room, but he doesn’t have nearly as large a collection. He’s got Old Spice and that's it; he rarely gets a nose pinch as he walks by after gym. He thought he just got lucky that his sweat didn't smell.

He closes Tucker's medicine cabinet and stares at himself in the mirror. It strikes him that he looks exactly like he did last year. He doesn’t even remember a trip to the barber, but it’s not like his hair is mullet length. He’s just…delayed he decides. 

  [“Someone has to be the late bloomer, right?” Danny says, picking at a thread near his knees.

“That’s true,” Ishiyama answers.

Again, she doesn’t press. But she also already knows how this story ends.]

Delayed, he tells himself as Tucker grumbles about how his feet hang off the couch. They hadn’t last year, and when they wake up the next morning, Danny notices for the first time that Tucker is taller than him.

“Hey, Dad,” Danny starts.

“Yeah, son?” Jack pauses in his walk from the lab to the kitchen, giving Danny his full attention. It’s alarming, like it has been for the past year or so. He doesn’t like having his parents' attention, even if they only give it to Danny. 

[“Your parents don’t know?”

Danny snorts. “Of course not.”

Ishiyama hums and for the first time, writes something. 

“Is that, is that one of the things you have to legally report?”

“That you are hiding a secret from your parents? No. All teens do that.”

“What do you have to report?”

Ishiyama stares at him. Danny can feel her gaze on the top of his bowed head. “Anything that indicates home is not safe for you.”

Danny swallows and reminds himself he can lie now. Margo’s powers have worn off.

Tries not to think about how nice it is to tell the truth to someone.]

Jack pauses, looking at Danny.

“When did you hit your growth spurt?”

“Wondering when you’ll hit your old man’s height?”

“I mean, I don’t have to be as tall as you, but I’d like to be taller than Jazz.” 

Jazz who had bloomed early, hitting her final height at thirteen. 

“I was always tall for my age, but really shot up when I was fourteen! Still grew for about another year, I think?" Jack taps his lips. " Started taller than you, Danno. Sorry.”

Danny shrugs. “As long as I grow.”

“I’m sure you will.” Jack reaches down to scramble Danny’s hair and he marvels at just how big his dad is. “Did, you, uh, want to talk about the changes your body is going through?”

“Ew, no. Thanks, Dad. But they cover that in health class.”

Jack looks a mix of disappointed and relieved, as if he hated the subject but would have welcomed the chance to bond.

“Righto. Just know you can ask me any question you have.”

“Will do, Dad.”

Danny can’t quite bring himself to talk to his mother, but gets it indirectly from Jazz the Maddie had been an early bloomer too. 

Danny is fifteen. He should be in the middle of puberty. 

But he’s the exception to the family in other ways, why not this one too?

[Danny pauses, and in the office, Principal Ishiyama sits with him. 

“Is that all you want to tell me today? I think I know where you’re going with this-”

“I want to tell it. I think, I think I need to say it. And not just because the ghost earlier hit me with her shoe.”

“Okay. We can sit here as long as you need.”]

Someone had to be the first late bloomer in the family.

Summer carries on. Danny pulls up the courage to ask Sam for a date, determined to act like a normal teen even as he feels farther and farther from it. She blushes, but accepts coffee before a trip to the Skulk & Lurk. 

Danny’s glad the date works for her; she’s been having sick days on and off all summer. He puts it together when he gets a peek inside her purse as she’s paying for a book - a thin orange plastic sleeve about the size of his palm. 

A period pad. 

[Ishiyama makes a face, but doesn’t interrupt and Danny keeps going. She understands what he’s getting to. Hurtling toward like a down electrical pole.]

He’s not surprised Sam got her period and hadn’t told him. He hadn’t actually wanted to know, and it’s a little weird to think about, but it’s also a sign that Sam is growing up.

And Danny’s not sure he is.

It’s the little things that add up. Tucker happy about an invisible hair on his chin. Sam’s shirts fitting a little tighter. 

Everyone needing new school clothes. 

Everyone but Danny. 

All of his things still fit. Same jeans, same tees, same shoes.

The last week of summer break, Danny lies on his back and stares at his ceiling. There’s glow in the dark stars, put up when he was ten. Models he built from ages eight through thirteen. It’s his childhood bedroom - complete with twin bed and space camp posters. 

It will always be a child’s bedroom. 

He lay there, unable to say the words in a space where someone could hear, but mouths them slowly. Feels the invisible sounds on his tongue and lips.

“I’m not aging because I’m dead. I’ve lived fifteen years, but I’m fourteen too. I’ll forever be fourteen.”

[Danny looks at his principal and finally says the words. “I actually died in the accident. I didn’t think I had at first - it was just a close call that gave me some cool powers. But I…I actually died. And so that’s what I did this summer. I accepted my death.”

“Did you?” Ishiyama says gently.

“I don’t have a choice, because I can’t change it.”

“You can change how you feel about it. How do you feel now?”

Danny rubs his right hand under his chin that will never grow a beard. Stares at the jeans that will never be too short for him. 

“Sad,” he answers. “I keep thinking of the things I’ll never do. And it’s all the awkward stuff. Like, at this point I have been kissed. And I’ll graduate high school. But at the same time, I feel left behind.” He looks up at his principal, at the one educator who has attempted to learn about him.

“I feel like I’m always going to be a kid, but all I want to do is grow up. What will Sam think if we’re still dating in ten years and I look ten years younger than her? Will my college professors think I’m a child prodigy? Will I ever be able to drink, or will people always think my ID is fake?”

Ishiyama reaches over and puts a hand on his knee. A tear drips down Danny’s cheek to land on her hand, but she doesn’t try to pull him into a hug. He appreciates that. He doesn’t want her comfort, she can't completely get it. 

But she’s listened, and that’s helpful. He feels lighter. Someone else knows - knows he’s Phantom, knows he feels disconnected from the world. 

“Thank you for your essay, late as it is,” Ishiyama says. “I’ll see to it that Mr. Lancer changes your assignment grade.”

Danny sniffs, brushing away his tears.

“I, thanks. No one has tried to help with this side before. The human side, I mean. Sam and Tucker help me fight ghosts, but sometimes I want help as Danny, not Phantom.”

“Let me know what you need, and I’ll do what I can. I promise.”

“Thanks, Principal Ishiyama.”

He believes her, trusts her in a way he doesn’t trust his parents. And isn’t that the thing - shedding the shelter of childhood even as he realizes he can never step across the threshold.]

Chapter Text

“Kairi.” 

Kairi Ishiyama looks up from her laptop, reviewing candidates. The school needs to fill its pool of substitute teachers or come up with a better process for covering staffing gaps. 

Case in point, William Lancer poking his nose into her office after he’d left sick yesterday during first period, the sub got chased out by a ghost in fifth, and she had to cover the last two periods. 

“Yes?”

“Did you change Danny Fenton’s grade?”

She looks back at the resumes. “Yes. He turned in his essay to me personally. It was good, but late, so a B felt fair.”

“Can I see it?”

“No.”

“Principal Ishiyama, you can’t go around changing students’ grades in the system. It’s not an honest reflection of what they’ve learned -”

“Danny recited his essay to me, which was emotional, touching, and well over five hundred words.”

“Be that as it may, I am Mr. Fenton’s teacher and his work needs to be turned in to me-”

“And I’m the principal of this school.” She looks down her nose at William. “The grade stays. Be on the lookout for an accommodation notice for Danny.”

William frowns. “Anything I should know?”

In Kairi’s mind, the whole school should know. Danny has died. He’s Phantom, sacrificing his learning to protect the town, struggling to realize his dreams are shifting due to the reality of his situation. 

But he doesn’t want the school to know, doesn’t want anyone who doesn’t already know to know, and so she returns to the resume on her screen.

“No.”

After a moment, William Lancer leaves, and Kairi sighs. Helping Danny is going to be hard, but he deserves it.

An individual education plan, or IEP, would provide Danny with accommodations at school, but officially setting one up requires a fair amount of hoops, as well as legal requirements, and she’s at a loss for where to start. Does being dead, or part dead, count as a medical condition allowing for accommodations similar to learning disabilities? What doctor would give her such a diagnosis? 

The other issue is that while there are standard best practices to help with autistic needs, Danny’s aren’t as cut and dry. He doesn’t need fidget toys or noise-cancelling headphones, or extra time to complete a test. He needs…

Well, her first thought is patience, forgiveness, and understanding, but he’s not going to get that. Not unless Kairi is willing to break his trust (she’s not) or he’s willing to share with more teachers (he’s not).

Kairi spends the weekend after she learns Danny's secret wrapped up in her thoughts. Her husband and daughter notice, but she waves them off. She can’t talk about Danny, even as she needs to, wants to talk things through. Not for the first time does she wish the Fentons knew, but that’s part of the problem.

Danny has died, is dead, and his parents don’t know. But being dead, being unable to die further, being stuck as an immortal teenager, is FentonWorks a danger to him?

Is there something in the house that can hurt him? Are his parents neglecting his needs? She doesn’t know, and she thinks herself in circles.

“Troubled kid?” her husband asks Sunday night.

“You could say that.”

He leaves the space open for her to elaborate, like she has so many times, but all Kairi sees is Danny staring at his knees while he cries, trying to convince himself he’s dealt with his death. She’s in over her head, she can’t imagine Danny right now.

She tells her husband nothing, and he pulls her close.

Monday she allows herself a treat - Nasty Burger for breakfast. The grease of their Nasty Breakfast is far from healthy, but it’s addictive, and unlike the coffee shop near the school they don’t charge for flavor shots in a drip coffee. It’s a stress meal. She’s aware. But she’s stressed.

She’s got the time, so walks inside to order. To her surprise, Danny is hunched over in a booth by himself, double fisting a burger and fries. He looks so much like a teenage boy in the moment, vacuuming up food, that her chest aches. 

“Hello, Danny,” she calls out. 

Danny freezes and then shoves both things into his face. Nasty sauce smears over his left cheek, but he manages to get a bite of burger and three fries in his mouth. Kairi is vaguely disgusted, but, she supposes, that too is the teenage standard. 

What isn’t is Danny in Nasty Burger at six thirty am, eating junk food.

She orders her meal to go and makes her way over to Danny’s table. He’s cleaned up and looks at her sheepishly as he stuffs a fry in his mouth even as he swallows his previous bite. It’s so teenage-y, her heart breaks.

“What are you doing here, Principal Ishiyama?”

She holds up her breakfast, grease already seeping through the bag, and takes a sip of the coffee.

“Snagging breakfast before school. You?”

He looks at her, blinks, and then fishes his phone out of his pocket. “Shit. School’s in less than an hour.”

Slowly, she sits down across from him. “Time slipped away from you?”

“Yeah. Last night…,” he trails off, but then takes a deep breath and continues, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “There’s this ghost, Nocturne. They’re really powerful, but most people don’t notice him because his powers are dream-based. Did you have any weird dreams last night?”

Her dreams have been full of Danny all weekend. She figures the one where she announced to her staff Danny’s condition was simply a fantasy, knowing she’ll never do it in real life. But it had felt so solid, now that she thinks about it. She’d woken up feeling more stressed as a result, grasping for the fading, visceral feeling of helping a student.

“Maybe,” she hedges. 

Danny nods. He appreciates it when she doesn’t ask for details, and he’s offered her the same courtesy. 

“Every time I fight Nocturne, I lose track of time because half the fight’s in dreamscapes. I also have to fight him alone. I can brush off his dream weaving, but the living can’t.”

The living. If Danny’s accident, his death, aligns with his sudden struggle in school like she suspects, he’s only been dead for a little over a year, yet he’s started grouping himself as an ‘other’. He already has concerns about future isolation - this won’t help.

“I’m sure you can fight Nocturne off not just because you’re a ghost.”

He ponders this, then shrugs. “Anyway, I’m usually starving after a fight, and Nasty Burger is open twenty-four seven, so here I am. But if you’ll excuse me, I need to rush home to shower, grab my backpack -”

“Come to my office when you arrive,” she says. “I want to talk. But not here.”

He nods, stuffing the rest of his fries in his mouth, followed by the tail end of his burger. Two chews in, he covers his mouth to hide a yawn. 

“See you in an hour, Principal Ishiyama.”

“See you soon, Danny.”

He’s late to school, knocking on her office door twenty minutes after the first bell. If he had gone to homeroom, he’d be assigned a tardy, pushing him over the edge into detention. According to his teachers, he’s never done more than groan at each slip and do homework or nap during detention. All further reasons to believe Danny isn’t a bad kid, he just can’t catch a break.

She’ll write him a pass for today. She can give him a twenty-minute break.

She wants to give him more.

“I want to talk about your needs.”

“My needs?”

“What would make school easier for you?”

Danny stares. 

She calmly stares back. 

“Put another way,” Kairi starts, “what’s had the biggest impact on your declining grades?”

“Well, ghost fighting. But I don’t think you can help with that.”

She purses her lips. Even if the school installed a ghost shield to prevent ghosts from disrupting classes, Danny would still slip through to fight. The shield would help every student but him.

“I have a few thought starters. Using today as an example, if you’re fighting all night, you’re late for school. So what if I allow you to skip homeroom? Say, reassign you to a private one with me?”

Danny slowly sinks back in his chair, relaxing. “It’s not just being late to school - if there’s a fight mid-day, I’m often late to a class. What if, what if I had a permanent hall pass?”

There are a few in the school, usually for those with medical conditions that require the ability to address concerns freely. She could just make one, she knows a few of the football team members have not gone through official channels for theirs, but Danny’s accommodations need to be above board. She doesn’t want anyone asking questions and investigating, digging up things Danny doesn’t want to share. 

She rubs her forehead. Maybe an IEP is out of the question, but a 504? They’re less strict.

“Principal Ishiyama?”

She puts her hand down. “Sorry, I’m thinking through the paperwork. I’d like to officially request that Casper High provide you with accommodations, but that usually starts with a medical diagnosis, and I’m assuming you don’t want doctors involved.”

“Actually…, I have a ghost doctor?”

It’s her turn to stare.

“A ghost doctor.”

“Not like the ones here know how to keep me healthy as a ghost.”

Kairi swallows around a suddenly dry tongue. Because if ghosts need to be healthy, if they can be mistreated, they’re toying a line. If she learns something the Fentons are doing is harmful, she is legally required to report it.

She decides to not ask that follow-up question. “If your doctor can provide me with evidence of one of the following,” she slides Danny a list of conditions an IEP can cover, “Or any condition that might impact your ability to learn, focus, concentrate, or basic skills like reading, writing, seeing, and hearing, let me know. In the meantime, if you think you’ll be late to class as a result of a ghost fight, come to me and I’ll write you a pass.”

Danny brightens; for the first time, he looks hopeful. “Really?”

“Really. Now here’s your pass. Get to class, Mr. Fenton.”

Danny gives her a mocking salute and goes out the door.

Kairi leans back in her desk chair and sighs. School administration is so much paperwork, but if she can help Danny get his grades up, it’ll be worth it.

“Is your habit of giving Fenton hall passes part of his upcoming IEP?” William asks in the teacher’s lounge the next day.

Kairi keeps her face straight. She’d given Danny a pass yesterday morning after the fight with Nocturne, and then again today when the Lunch Lady decided that even a switch in pizza providers was too much of an alteration to the menu. It’d taken her a while to accept that they had to switch because Gino had retired and his pizzeria no longer existed. 

“Yes,” she says, adding extra sugar to her coffee.

Unfortunately, it’s not the end of the question.

“Have I…missed something?” he asks.

Kairi looks up at him.

The teachers at Casper High are a rare breed. It’s not uncommon for teachers to be concerned about student safety, and other towns certainly have their regular villains. But Casper High is involved in an attack of some sort once a month, by villains only Phantom can handle, and dealing with the knowledge that souls and some sort of afterlife are real is not something everyone can handle. Many had quit as soon as they could.

Those teachers who stayed were truly exceptional in their care and concern for their students. And yet, Danny has slipped through the cracks. Everyone knows something happened, school records don’t take a dive like his without cause, but when no solution presented itself they’ve fallen into stereotypes. Danny is troubled. Danny is lazy. Danny is rebellious, trying to be the opposite of his sister. Danny has stopped caring about school, for no particular reason.

But William had been successful in getting the school a counselor, even if she only lasted a week, in part because of Danny. And if Casper High staff haven’t noticed Danny isn’t aging, if they also assuming he’s a late bloomer, well, next year’s school photos will get some people talking.

All Kairi wants to do is blab. To spill Danny’s secret, get help in helping him. That reveal is coming; she knows it. Danny Fenton cannot hide forever, and he’ll need more support than two teens and a high school principal when he can no longer hide. 

But that day is not today. So all she does is look her employee in the face and say “yes” before walking away.

Danny comes to school with a doctor's note. It looks official, not even glowing, which Kairi had halfway expected. It’s full of details that Kairi can read between the lines of: this is the aftermath of the accident that killed him. It happened over the summer or early in his sophomore year. It was violent and disruptive.

Kairi wonders how his parents could have missed both the accident and the results, because she doesn't doubt that the physical troubles Dr. Frost lists are those Danny presently suffers from.

Circulatory problems that mean he has a hard time keeping his body warm. Cardiovascular weakness leading to a low heartbeat, adverse reactions to stress, and physical limits that should be able to get him out of gym class. Neurological damage in his right hand interrupting his sense of touch.

Has he had trouble holding pencils?

“What’s the extent of damage to your right hand? Are there things you can’t do?”

“It’s…weird.”  Danny holds out his arm and pushes back his sleeve. When he rotates it so his wrist is skyward, Kairi can see the faint branches of a lichtenberg figure. “I have sensation in my right palm and fingers, but it’s dull. I’m okay now, but for the first two months, between the damaged nerves and my inability to control my powers, I kept dropping things. I had to learn by memory how much pressure I needed to hold a glass or pen or type.”

Kairi has noticed he still tends to type heavy-fingered, often looking down. He might not be able to tell where the bump indicating where to place his right index finger, throwing off blind typing.

“Can’t really tell temperature though - like if the kettle is hot or not. I’ve burned myself a few times. And it gets tired sooner than my other hand. Normally, it doesn’t get in the way of anything, but while fighting, it’s hard to keep a fist, or if I have to pull on something, I have a shorter time limit. In this form,” he adds.

Kairi is getting him out of gym today. She doesn't want a situation where he's forced to climb the rope for a fitness test and loses his grip.

There are two other things on the list - anxiety and OCD - and a request to allow Danny to perform his rituals to calm his anxiety and reduce stress on his heart. His biggest trigger is ghosts, and Dr. Frost has written in Danny’s file that ‘living with a ghost portal in his basement has produced a sense of insecurity and constant worry at home because ghosts are often present. He worries about being attacked gives him bouts of insomnia and anxiety so overwhelming that he cannot concentrate on external concerns like school. Danny avoids home when he can as a result, and it would be great if school could transform into a location he feels comfortable.’

Well, for being a ghost doctor, Dr. Frost has given her exactly what she needs. Physical disabilities she can request modifications for what Danny can turn in - no more handwritten essays - or extended timelines for large dioramas or posters. Excuses for him to need space to calm down, opening the way to a permanent hall pass. A home life so stressful, not because of his parents directly thankfully, that can lead to relaxed rubrics and timelines. 

It's not enough for an IEP, but she really doesn’t want to go through the required meetings those require. This is perfect for a 504, getting the school to not tailor what Danny’s learning but simply how he learns and interacts with the lessons. 

She wants to hug this doctor, this ally.

“I also have this for you.” Danny hands her an envelope. Her name is scrawled on it in the same handwriting as the medical file. 

She waits to open it until after she sends Danny to his first period, and finds a letter.

Dear Principal Ishiyama,

The Great One, Danny, has told me about your efforts to help him, and I wish to thank you. He has done much for the Infinite Realms, or Ghost Zone as he calls it, but I know he is struggling. Ghosts are emotional creatures, and wounds of the heart are very serious. His worries about his mortal life are strong, but I believe making education easier for him will help greatly. He wants to do well in school, but he cannot sacrifice his health for it.

Because you have his best interest at heart, and I believe you do not adhere to the Great One’s parents' understanding of my kind, I want you to know that ghosts must follow their obsessions. It’s a compulsion, and getting in the way can cause enough damage a ghost may End. One of Danny’s is space, and as his life doesn’t permit living among the stars he satisfies it in mortal ways. Much of this is educational - watching documentaries, reaching astrophysics journals - and I urge you to include the subject more in his schooling. It will hold his attention well and soothe his obsession. Failing to indulge in them presents symptoms similar to anxiety, so I hope my official medical record of the Great One will allow you to do what you need to.

However, I wish to impart the Great One’s second obsession - protection. Anything he deems ‘his’ he wil avidly protect, from friends to the school to the city. Preventing him from defending Amity Park will not go well and will hurt him in the long run, so please refrain from doing so. And a warning - he considers his family his to protect. Separating him from his parents cannot be done in away that threatens them without threatening him and causing problems. Tread carefully if that’s your plan, but I’d advice you for now to simply provide him the security he cannot get at home at your establishment. Our Great One may not physically age, but he’s independence is growing regardless. One day, he will step away. We can only prepare him for it. 

Thank you again for all you have already done for Danny, for the Great One who has saved my people and so many others. It is good to know he has support on the other side of portal.  

Sincerely, Frostbite of the Far Frozen 

Kairi reads the letter twice. She really wants to hug this doctor. He’s provided her with exactly what she needs, he has the same concerns, he’s warned her of what to look out for and what’s to come. He cares for Danny, and can help him in a way no one else can.

But Kairi can step up too. Like Danny has mentioned, Phantom has support but Danny does not. People aren’t aware of why or how he’s suffering, and thus can’t take the right steps. But she can.

It shouldn’t surprise her when there’s a knock on her door the day she informs Casper High’s staff of Danny’s accommodations. 

“Come in,” she says, reviewing ACT details. If Casper High is going to be a test location, she’ll have to ask for proctor volunteers. 

“Do you have time for a conversation?”

Kairi looks up at William. He’s pale. Eyes a bit wide. 

She shuts her laptop and gestures to the chairs before her desk. She considers sitting in one of them, reducing the distance between them, but this is a conversation where Kairi can’t simply be William’s co-worker. She’s his boss, and all that entails. She doesn’t have to explain her reasoning; just make him follow Danny’s 504 plan.

Still, it’s easy to see William is shaken and she feels a bit of pity for the man. It's always difficult to learn something horrible about your student. She slides over the candy bowl. 

“I missed something,” he starts.

She nods. 

“I missed a lot.”

“Such as?”

She knows what’s in the accommodations she is forcing the school to follow. Danny is excused from gym. The school will refund the cost he paid for broken chemistry beakers, though he still is not allowed to handle anything with glass or that will not change color when warm. He’s getting a permanent hall pass, so he can grab a coat if he’s cold or needs to find a place to hide out a ghost attack or feels the need for the security a ghost weapon brings him (to be keep in his locker unless there’s an actual fight). His teachers are to reduce in-classroom stress - no pop quizzes, and allow him to stay after school to finish a test if he cannot do it in a 40 min period. They are not to disturb him if he falls asleep in class, or if it’s bothering the other students may send him to the sick room. If possible, they are to reduce his homework load and allow him to turn assignments in late. He will get notices of drills to prevent spikes in anxiety or jumps in his heart. Staff will step in if they believe a situation in the hallway has the potential to cause his heart stress.

As far as modifications go, they’re small. But Kairi hopes they will help. 

What William thinks he’s no longer missing, however, would be in the medical file Kairi attached. Legally, she had to do it.

William is one of her more caring, dedicated teachers. No doubt, if he had been in the classroom that day instead of Kairi, it would be him who realized Danny secret and pushed her for modifications for Danny. It would have taken longer, probably. It's Danny's lucky break that it was her.

William is not the only one who will read between the lines. 

“His medical records indicate all his new physical health systems started the same time. Something happened at FentonWorks, didn’t it? He got hurt, bad.”

“That’s what I believe, yes. And he covered his physical distress rather well because he was hiding it from not just us but his family.”

“Do they know?” Of course, William would notice Maddie’s signature on the forums wasn’t quite right.

“No. Nor do I think Danny is in immediate harm, despite the stress of living over a ghost portal. Pulling him away from his parents will do more harm than good, if I understood his doctor correctly.”

William leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands on the back of his neck.

“Danny still wants to learn and be good at school. He’s passionate about space, and I bet if you have the class watch Star Wars he will get the Hero’s Journey immediately. We all know he’s been struggling. He’s been insanely stressed, and then stressed again when he can’t manage school work. We just didn’t see the cause. 

“We still can’t address it fully, I cannot close that portal. I’m not sure I should. Ghosts will still come to Amity, they will always haunt the Fenton household, attack the school.” Kairi swallows. “We’ve done our best for all the other students to reduce the impact ghost attacks have on learning. They’ve just hurt Danny’s education in ways we couldn’t predict.”

“I offered him tutoring, but he’d only show sometimes. I’d hear Foley talk about late-night video-game sessions, and believe that’s why Danny was so tired. I never, never noticed his had problems with his hand and I’ve been his teacher for two years. I’ve stayed at Casper because I wanted to help these kids-”

“And you have,” Kairi cuts in. “You’ve done so much. But you know there’s always a kid or two that needs special attention. We have three students on an IEP here. It’s not your fault that you didn’t see something Danny took great strides to hide.”

“But you saw, didn’t you?” William looks up at her. “You substituted for half a lesson with him, and realized something was off.”

She thins her lips, but this is a moment where she doesn't have to hold her tongue. “The ghost that day had the power to make people tell the truth. I asked a question, and he couldn’t lie. I’m not a better educator, or teen-reader. I simply had an unfair advantage Danny trusted me to not abuse.”

William searches her face and she watches him settle. He’s missed something, they all have, would have, if not for Margo the Ghost, but now that they know - 

“You said Danny likes Star Wars?”

“Space,” Kairi answers with smile. “If you can incorporate it anyway, you’ll find he’ll glow.”

-now that they know, they can help Danny in meaningfully ways. Maybe one day he’ll be ready to tell his teachers or classmates about Phantom. His parents. Amity Park. Life will always be hard for him, Kairi thinks, but she’ll make it a little easier.