Danny didn't like this new transfer student. Not one bit. He stared too long, his gaze lingering on his scars. No one was supposed to notice those. Nobody ever did. The last thing he needed was someone sniffing around all the little things about him that didn't quite add up.

Danny shot Sam a look as he took his seat next to her

"There's an empty seat behind Mr. Fenton," Mr. Lancer unfortunately pointed out, making Danny inwardly groan.

Danny could see the kid looking at him with a sharp gaze out of the corner of his eye as he made his way to the back of the room. It gave him the creeps. And to make things worse, for the entire class period, he could feel his eyes boring into his back. Danny was out of there the second the bell rang, dragging Sam and Tucker with him.

"Something's not right with that transfer kid," Danny whispered hurriedly as they all stopped by their lockers. He wrung his hands. He didn't know what it was, but there was something. "He was staring at me the entire class! This is the last thing I need with the ghost activity spike right now!"

"It's super shady for sure," Sam remarked, furrowing her brow. "Maybe we should check to see if—what was his name?"

"Something Edogawa," Tucker helpfully supplied.

"—if this Edogawa is somehow ghost-related. We can safely assume that he's not a ghost himself or being overshadowed since your ghost sense didn't go off. But maybe he's working with one?"

Tucker looked up from his PDA. "But ghosts never work with humans. We're 'puny and horrid beyond belief,'" he imitated mockingly, making air quotes, "so ghosts aren't exactly lining up to have a tea party with us."

"Doesn't mean it couldn't happen," Danny shrugged. "Ghosts aren't predictable."

"Nah, man. Ghosts are super predictable. How many times a week do you throw the Box Ghost back through the portal? If I didn't know you, I'd think your ringtone was 'beware,'" Tucker retorted.

Danny sighed. He had a point. Most ghosts (or at least the ones that showed up in Amity) would never deign to even speak to a human if it wasn't for the purpose of terrorizing them. Even so, Edogawa's interest couldn't be a coincidence. At school, he was as average as they came. Subpar grades, plain face, typical build. Nothing about him should stand out. So why?

Sam crossed her arms. "Even so, we should look into it, don't you think? Anything fishy around here is always ghost-related."

As the trio turned into their next class, Danny was met with the wholly unpleasant surprise that not only was Edogawa in his math class too, he was interrogating everyone else around him like he was the police or something. Edogawa sat backwards in a chair, listening intently to some guy Danny didn't really know.

Danny shot him a glare when his back was turned and sat down on the opposite end of the room, putting his head down on the old wooden desk to pretend he wasn't going to eavesdrop. He peeked through his arm to watch.

"And you say Fenton's parents are ghost hunters?" Edogawa said, jotting down notes in a little black notebook. Danny could hardly believe his eyes.

The red-head he was talking to nodded. Danny thought his name was Wes or something? "Oh yeah, he's a real loser. His parents are totally crazy. You should see their van! It's loaded up with all kinds of wacky stuff."

Edogawa frowned and muttered, "And that makes him a loser?" but closed his notebook and thanked him for the information nonetheless. Well, it was a point for him in Danny's book, although he still didn't appreciate the nosiness. Not when he had a huge secret to keep.

That point and immediately and violently retracted later that evening.

Danny sat at his desk, surrounded by papers and books. Crumpled half-finished essays and worksheets littered the top of the desk, the reading lamp shining on them like the unholy wrath of his parents when Mr. Lancer sent out progress reports. He was so screwed. Couldn't Skulker or whoever else ever take one night off?

"Danny! Your friend Conan is here to work on a project!" his mother yelled from downstairs.

"One moment!" he replied on instinct.

Then, Danny stopped his furious writing and furrowed his brow. Who on earth was Conan? And more importantly, had he forgotten about a project? The thought filled him with utter horror. Danny wasted no time leaping out of his chair and racing down the stairs to find Nosy Mcnosypants striking up a conversation with his parents.

Danny's mouth fell open as he jabbed a finger in Edogawa's—Conan's, he supposed—direction. "What are you doing here?"

Okay, so maybe he could have handled that better. But Danny was genuinely floored that some random guy was going so far to find out whatever possible about him.

"Danny!" his mom chided, turning back to Conan. "Sorry about that, dear. I would be happy to show you our latest inventions, of course—"

"Wait! Um, Conan and I should probably...get started on that project. Come on up to my room," Danny said, motioning for Conan to follow him. He obviously needed to have a little chat with this guy about a little concept called privacy. Danny was normally not confrontational if he could help it when he was Fenton, but this whole situation was far too suspicious to ignore.

No sooner had his bedroom door shut, Danny turned to face Conan and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's your deal?" he asked sourly. No point in beating around the bush.

"What deal?" Conan replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. What deal, he says! As if he hadn't spent all day acquiring information about Danny specifically, and like he hadn't just lied to get into his house. But fine. Danny could play this game.

It slipped out of Danny's mouth in an instant. "Why are you being so stalker-y? Who are you working for?"

Conan froze as Danny mentally kicked himself. "Who am I working for?" he repeated, taken aback. A shadow seemed to pass over his face as he scrutinized Danny with renewed interest. The air in the room seemed to get heavier and sink down to the floor around them. His voice dropped lower. "Are you in danger?"

Involuntarily, Danny took a step back and started rubbing the back of his neck. "What? No, no! It was a, it was a poorly worded question! I meant, um..."

So maybe this whole thing wasn't going so spectacularly as Danny would have hoped.

Conan sighed and picked at the sleeves of his royal blue hoodie, his eyes fixed on the space poster above his bed. "The scars," he said. "Whoever it is caused those?"

"Now hold on—nothing's happened to anybody, okay? I'm just clumsy," Danny asserted. He really needed to take back control of the situation. "But what about you, huh? Care to tell me why you lied about having a project to get into my house? What game are you playing?"

"I mean no harm," Conan replied evenly. "I was just interested in what the devil it is you do to get all the injuries you've got. They're not in the right places for someone who gets into street fights, and then there's minor burn scars scattered all over the place. It seemed odd on someone so otherwise average in a mostly average town, and it piqued my curiosity. That's all. Swear." He raised his hands as a gesture of peace (though Danny did not buy it for one second).

Danny bit his lip. Conan was a disaster waiting to happen, a walking newspaper headline with bold letters stretched across the front page: GHOST BOY REVEALED TO BE CASPER HIGH STUDENT DANIEL FENTON. People in Amity Park did not just notice things and get curious. It simply wasn't done; people took things at face value instead of thinking about the implications the ghost attacks brought about death.

Too perceptive. Too likely to put two and two together. He had to find out just who this Conan Edogawa was and get rid of him before he caught a glimpse of his ghost form. What if he already knew? What if he was getting evidence that he was Danny Phantom right now? And most importantly: who wanted to know?

Danny glanced at Conan. "Okay, fine. Whatever, just get out of here. I've got homework to catch up on."

"Of course." Conan moved towards the hall, pausing in the doorway before continuing down the stairs and out the front door.

Danny let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and haphazardly rummaged through his desk drawer to pull out his Fenton Phones.

"Guys, you there?" he asked anxiously, the essay he had been working on long forgotten.

Static and then the crackle of someone coming online. "Yeah, what's up?"

"Tucker! That Edogawa guy—his name is Conan by the way—I think he's on to me. He came to my house wanting to know about my scars and bruises. I don't know what to do. I have no idea who he's working with or what his plans are—"

"Woah, woah, calm down, Danny. I'll talk to Sam and see if she can't tail him after school one day. I'll try to dig up his official records on my PDA. You know your enemies best, so you should try to find a connection to Conan. Sam and I have got your back, dude. T.F. out."

The Phones went dead, and Danny deposited them on top of the essay. He leaned back in his swivel chair as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Whoever it was after him was not going to get away with this. Not if Danny had anything to say about it.

The problem was, of course, that most of his enemies were ghosts. They already knew about the whole halfa situation. So why send someone sniffing after his identity?

Unless...

Danny stomach dropped. Ghost hunters. With the whole bounty situation diffused, there were only three ghost hunters he knew of intent on catching Danny Phantom. His parents (who he very much doubted would have sent some random person to interrogate him if they caught wind of his 'extracurriculars'), Valerie, or the Guys in White.

Danny's night honestly could not get any worse.