Kindred

"I'll get you for this, ghost child!!"

Danny rolled his eyes, "Like you will every other night, Skulker..."

It had become tedious and repetitive years ago but he still entertained the Ghost Hunter. Why? Danny suspected that he's emphatic with the ghosts of the Ghost Zone. Being forced to interact with them daily meant that he picked up on things that even his parents, self-proclaimed expert on all things supernatural, did not know. They were right on the money for many things but the ghosts that they knew and the ghosts of the Ghost Zone were different. There was a reason why he ended up fighting beings that might as well be nature deities.

See, all things die.

Everyone knew that.

But what they do not know was that all things, even ideas, have a spirit to it. A kind of life. Ember McLain was not the ghost of a girl who died forgotten in a fire. No. She was the embodiment of Fame and how fleeting it was. Fame lived and died over and over. The only thing that can kill Fame was being forgotten. Skulker was the embodiment of the Prize. He wasn't some sad guy who was too small to do anything worthy. He was the very spirit of exotic hunters around the world. A poacher, basically. Always hunting something rare and grand to hide the fact that they were really nothing in the end, thus the small guy in an impressive state of the art armor.

Every dream that existed was supported by a kind of passion that bordered obsession. It was the only way a dream can last long enough to survive the odds. But where do all dead dreams go if not the Ghost Zone?

Danny sighed before deciding to take a short breather over someone rooftop. He doesn't even know where Skulker had dragged their fight to. Some bad days, he just crashed in a tree and woke up rushing to school or home before anyone noticed him missing. Good thing that he has the speed of a shooting star. Some poor fella actually accidentally made a wish on him with Desiree nearby. The wishing ghost was not happy about that.

Still...

He sat down on the veranda, "Nice house..."

"...what are you doing on my veranda, Fenton?"

Danny sighed, "Just taking a short break..."

...

Wait.

Danny's eyes widened before he twisted around so fast he might have decapitated himself to see Elsa staring him down from behind the sliding door of what could only be her room. He nervously chuckled, "Uh...huh...uhm...what did you just called me, good citizen?"

Please say Phantom. Please say Phantom. Please say Phantom!

Elsa actually rolled her eyes at him before shaking her head, "I am not a blind idiot, Fenton. I know it is you,"

Danny looked around before rubbing his neck, "I...uh...think you got the wrong guy, Miss. I mean...I have heard of Fenton but...isn't that guy alive?"

Elsa scowled at him, irritation clear in her blue eyes, "The only thing that separate the two of you besides the fact that he sometimes breathe is that you have different coloring and different taste in style," She studied him like something under a microscope in Biology Class, "Personally, this style suites you better. You looked like someone that actually know what they are doing with their life...or afterlife, as it is,"

Danny stared at her only to find her firmly watching him back. After a moment, the fight left him boneless as he sat on the marble railing of her veranda, "How...when...?"

Elsa sniffed, "The how is simple. I saw you as Fenton and then I saw you fight as Phantom. Besides, the name is practically a pun and very on the nose. As for when...the first day I met you and saw you fight," She nodded, "It is ridiculous how no one in this town seemed to notice. You are very much alike,"