A/N: So, hi. I'm sorry about the terribly long and unexpected hiatus. Real life decided to take matters into its own hands. Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments, and for sticking with me. :') Thank you also to Cameron Kennedy for reading through my crap and pointing out things that don't make sense. I mean, they still don't make sense, but at least most of it is intentional now.

And just so you know, I'm extending the second semester start time, for obvious reasons. That will probably happen sometime after this plot arc wraps up. (I can't give you a definite time; sorry.)

Disclaimer: For future reference, I also don't own any characters/fandoms that might happen to show up. And I still don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

P.S.I highly recommend you use your Google-fu to at least take a peek at two fandoms: Homestuck, and Hetalia. Some stuff might make a little more sense if you do.

Kitty and Eliza walked warily into Boring Marik's office, alternating between glaring at each other and trying to study the room without actually looking like they cared. There were some chairs, a desk, and several bookcases lining the walls, but other than that, there wasn't much to look at. Didn't therapists usually have all their degrees lying around to show off?

… Which raised the question: what if he wasn't a real therapist?

Crap.

"Sit," Marik said, gesturing to the chairs and positioning himself behind the desk. Kitty and Eliza dropped down in front of him, and Marik folded his hands carefully, eyeing them. "So," he said.

"She started—"

"It was her—"

"—she dumped—"

"—clawed my face—"

Marik held up a hand. "Girls."

They pouted.

Marik sighed. "All right, here's what we'll do." He pulled a coin out of his pocket. "Eliza, you're heads. Kitty, you're tails. Whoever wins talks first. Fair enough?"

The girls nodded slowly, and Marik flipped the coin.

"Heads," he said, watching the coin finish tumbling around on the desk. "Now, Eliza. Let's hear your side of the story. Who started the fight?"

"It was her," Eliza said, jabbing a thumb at Kitty. "She dumped food on my head!"

"You spilled juice on my—"

"Kitty," Marik said warningly.

Kitty glowered, and Eliza continued, "I couldn't just… let her do that, right? I mean, 'Learning Through Pain' and all? She's gotta be taught that she can't just walk all over everybody!"

Marik sighed. "'Learning Through Pain' is and always has been the motto of OFUs… but that doesn't mean it's the student's responsibility—or right—to do the teaching. Your job here is to learn. You're supposed to learn how to write fanfiction, but you're also here to learn how to deal with the fandom itself. You girls can have your disagreement—that's okay. But when it starts turning to violence—verbal or physical— that's when we've got to step in. Not just because we care all that much about your own well-being—I mean, I do, but I'm pretty sure most of the staff would just as happily feed you to a Kuriboh—but because it disrupts the learning environment, and you really can't act like that when we actually let you start posing stuff again. The Internet will eat you alive. And if we do just feed you to a Kuriboh or send you off to the Shadow Realm… well, it usually works, but I'm not really happy with that. What does it do for you guys, anyway? Scare you into being good?" He smiled a little. "That never really worked for me. I'd prefer to actually try and help you guys. That's what I'm here for." He tapped the desk lightly. "So! Let's continue." He turned to Kitty. "Your turn."

Kitty hunched down into her seat. "I don't like it here."

"Why?"

"Everyone's such a bitch!" Kitty said, tossing her hair a little. "I mean, everybody hates me! Especially her." She pointed to Eliza. "It's like she's trying to make my life miserable!"

"Tell me, Kitty," Marik said, leaning forward a bit. "Have you tried to make friends with anyone? Really tried?"

"Sure, I guess," Kitty said. "But none of them like me. They think I'm a huge bitch."

"Are you?"

"What?" Kitty spluttered.

"It's a simple question," Marik said, shrugging a little. "Are you a huge bitch? Are you nice to people, or do you look down on them whenever you talk to them? I think you're starting to get a taste of how OYGOFU goes, Kitty. We're not here to make you feel good about yourself. In fact, this is more of a place for people to see their faults and maybe try to fix them. You might think that people are going to like you because you're attractive, or because you can do cool things, but that usually only happens in fiction—or, more accurately, really bad fiction. In the real world, when you act like you're better than everyone else, you're not going to get a positive response. People don't like feeling inferior, Kitty. They want to be treated like people. 'Treat others the way you want to be treated' still applies when you pass the age of ten."

"But everyone here's so boring," Kitty whined.

"Do you really know that?" Marik asked. "Have you really tried to talk to anybody? Maybe there are people here with similar interests. I think if you give them a chance, you'll find that it's really not the fandom—or these kids—that are making it impossible for you to make some friends. You've just got to open up a little." He smiled. "Now. We're going to try a little team-building activity, okay?"

Eliza and Kitty looked at each other nervously.

Boring Marik just leaned back in his chair. "Let's begin."

"Well," Bakrua said. "This is awkward."

"I'm sorry," Japan said again. "Ah… I don't believe this is where I was meant to end up."

"Where exactly were you trying to go?" Marik asked.

"Better yet, who even are you?" Bakura said. "If I'm not mistaken, that's a World War Two Japanese military uniform."

Marik gave him a funny look. "Really, Bakura?"

"What?" Bakura snapped. "I'm five-thousand years old, Marik, I know some history. Anyway, people don't usually just walk around in those."

"I believe there has been a slight mix-up," Japan said, looking between them. "You see…" He paused. "Hm. Is this the Official Yu-Gi-Oh! Fanfiction University?"

"Yeah," Marik said, surprised. "It is, actually."

Japan blinked. "Oh. I'm sorry, I thought I was in the wrong place." He bowed again. "I am the personification of the nation of Japan." He paused, then added, "From the Hetalia fandom."

"Oh," Bakura said. "That makes more sense."

"What's Hetalia?" Marik asked. "Don't give me that look, Bakura, not everyone's as nerdy as you are."

"Hetalia is a fandom that details certain events in history—mainly World War Two—by personifying the nations involved and having them interact in ways that some find… amusing," Japan said.

"It's history in a gay bar, next question," Bakura said.

"Well, not—" Japan began, flushing, but Bakura waved him down.

"I said next question. Why are you here?"

"I'm here for a fandom exchange program," Japan said.

"Fandom exchange?" Bakura said. "Wasn't there a memo about that?"

"Yes, I believe one was sent out to each of the participating fandoms. However, I appear to have been separated from my group."

"I'll say," Marik snorted. "How the hell did you end up in the Shadow Realm?"

"Zorc must be slacking off again," Bakura muttered. "Anyway, where were you supposed to go? Not that I want to help you. Because I am a villain."

"We're doing this for our own benefit," Marik said. "The paper work gets really obnoxious when we get unauthorized Shadow movement. It's just easier for us to help out sometimes. But only every once in a while, mind. Don't expect us to be going around with little tour guide brochures or whatever."

"I see," Japan said. "I was supposed to be directed to the course coordinator's office."

"Office?" Marik said. "Eggy doesn't have an office. I think she's got an art room, though." He shuddered. "It's scary in there."

"That's probably why you got lost," Bakura said. "Do they have Kuribohs running administration or something? Honestly."

Japan coughed politely. "If you don't mind me asking… how do we get out of this Shadow Realm?"

"I guess we'll just have to wait for someone to figure out that Marik and I are missing."

"How long do you expect that to take?"

Marik and Bakura looked at each other.

"I think," Marik said, "that you might be better off not knowing." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. "Do you play Duel Monsters?"

"I've never—"

"OH, FUCK, NO!"

Japan's eyes widened in shock.

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "That was not me."

"Obviously," Marik said, gaping at him, and then looking behind him. "It came from somewhere over there." He pointed over his shoulder.

The three of them peered into the darkness, cards lying forgotten at their feet.

"Hello?" Marik called.

Silence.

"Huh."

"Look, all I'm saying is that I don't think this lecture requires a PowerPoint presentation," Seth huffed, doing his best to wrangle the table he was lugging up the stairs around a corner. He and Atem were trying to set up for the seminar they were supposed to be conducting, but so far they were having more trouble actually getting their equipment to the upper-floor room they had been assigned.

"See, there's where you're wrong. Everything these days requires PowerPoint. It's practically a sacred law."

"… Really."

Atem clapped a hand over his heart. "On my honor."

"Atem! Grab the other end of the table, it's going to—oh, dammit."

The two of them watched as the table they had spent the past ten minutes lugging around crashed its way down the stairs.

Atem winced. "Well, the corner should stop—oops, never mind."

Suddenly, there was a loud thump, followed by an "Ouch!"

Atem and Seth looked at each other.

"Should we…"

"It would be impolite not to…"

"But we've got this thing to set up…"

"And really, it's not…"

"Um, hello?" the voice called back up the stairs. "I think I might be kind of… uh… stuck here, haha. Shit, I can't feel my toes. Hello?"

Atem sighed. "Well, so much for that plan."

They started down the steps.

"Oh my goodness, we've killed him!" Atem gasped when they reached the bottom.

"What do we do?"

"Do we call 911?"

"What's 911?"

"I don't know, I'm ancient, remember?"

"I'm ancienter than you are!"

"Is that even a word?"

"What?"

"Ancienter. I don't think it's a– "

"Um, guys?" the table said. "A little help, here?"

"Oh," Atem said in surprise. "He's not dead."

"No, I'm not," the table said. Actually, it sounded like a boy, but all Seth and Atem could see were the white high-top sneakers; the rest was just a giant table. "I'm having kind of a hard time breathing here, though."

"Sorry," Seth said, grabbing the table. "Atem, get over here."

Atem grabbed the other end of the table. "Okay, one, two… three!"

The table didn't budge.

"Dammit, it's jammed against the wall," Seth said.

"Pull harder."

"But we'll damage the wall!"

"Oh, yeah, don't hurt the wall," the table said. "Come on, guys, I could use a little help!"

"Okay, okay, hold on," Atem said, shifting his grip. "Impatient, much?"

"Well, he's got a good reason."

"Table, guys?"

"Sorry."

"One, two, three!"

Tables, it turned out, were surprisingly stubborn.

"Kid, are you doing okay under there?"

"I'm hunky-dory, all right. Happy as a clam. Hehe, clams. I know a girl who likes clams."

"I think the lack of oxygen is getting to his head."

"Right, okay, I'm going to find help. Just… uh… stay with Seth here, okay?"

"Okie-dokie!"

"Sweet mother of Ra," Atem said, dashing back up the stairs. "What did I ever do to deserve this?"

"Well, you did drop a table on someone!"

"Clam it, Seth!"

"Haha, clams!"

"You too!"

"I don't really see what this is going to do," Eliza grumbled.

"It's a time-honored tradition, meant to establish trust between partners," Boring Marik said, positioning Eliza in front of Kitty. "Now, ready… set… trust fall!"

Eliza stood rooted to the floor, but Kitty leapt as far back from Eliza as she possibly could.

There was an awkward silence. Marik sighed. "Eliza… you're actually supposed to fall. Kitty… well, the general idea is that you… you know… catch her."

Both girls glared at him, then at each other.

Marik resisted the urge to knock them both upside the head. Violence was not the answer.

(Technically, violence was the question. The answer was almost always "yes," but Marik wasn't going to give into that one so easily.)

"Next exercise."

"This is stupid. This is so stupid, there aren't even words. This is not in my job description. Nowhere in my contract does it say that I am required to tramp though the Shadow Realm looking for rouge villains who both tried to get me killed on more than one occasion. Dammit, I am never going to get this purple smoke out of my trench coat. I'm going to have to get Mokuba to order more laundry detergent—and then he's going to forget and buy the wrong brand, and I'm going to have to walk around smelling like a lavender bubble bath for the rest of the week. Why the hell did I even agree to this in the first place? Oh, right. Because I am absolutely batshit crazy! Slap me in a cloak and call me Yami Marik! Someone notify the papers, because Seto Kaiba has flipped completely off the deep end and into the pool of utterly nucking futs! Goddammit I hate the Shadow Realm!"

Seto Kaiba did not talk to himself. Crazy people talked to themselves. And Seto Kaiba was not insane. In fact, Seto Kaiba was so sane that he didn't even bother thinking about talking to himself. That was how sane he was.

However, if Kaiba had been the kind of person who talked to himself, his monologue probably would have gone something like that.

Lucky for Kaiba's sanity, he didn't talk to himself. Instead, he snorted disdainfully, observing the darkness. Because Kaiba wasn't totally incompetent and was always prepared, he pulled his high-tech, super-powered KaibaCorp.-modified flashlight out of his pocket and began searching for maniacs.

Who were a hell of a lot crazier than he was.

Definitely.

Kaiba made his way methodically through the Shadow Realm, sweeping the beam of his flashlight out towards the darkness. This was really stupid. The Shadow Realm was enormous—it could take years to find anyone this—

"OH, FUCK, NO!"

Okay, never mind.

Dammit, was the whole world out to prove him wrong today?

Kaiba flicked his flashlight in the direction of the shout. It didn't really sound like either Marik or Bakura… but then again, he didn't really know either of them well enough to tell.

Well, he heard them both yell at least seven times a day (breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a few times in between) but that was beside the point. It could have been one of them, which meant that Kaiba had to look. Just in case.

Such was the life of a perfectionist.

As he walked, the yelling got a bit more distinguishable, although no less perplexing. In fact, he could almost swear he could hear more than one voice now… but neither of them was familiar. Students, maybe?

"Okay, fuck this, you stupid fucking asshole!"

Students with anger issues.

"Hey, don't blame me! Relax, take a deep breath, and calm the fuck—"

"Deep breath? We're stuck in the middle of a motherfucking void of nowhere, and you want me to take a deep fucking breath? You know where you can shove your deep breath? You can shove it right up your—"

"Okay, hold on, maybe I can—"

"How did you manage to hack us into nothing?"

"I don't know!"

"Hello?" Kaiba called.

Instant silence.

Then, "Shit," someone whispered.

Well, then.

"You have ten seconds to tell me who you are before I blast you," Kaiba said, yanking out his Blue Eyes card and holding it threateningly. Not that these guys could probably see him or anything, but still. It made him feel badass.

When a trading card made you feel badass…

Kaiba shook that thought off quickly. What the hell kind of world would it be when you could doubt trading cards?

Not the kind Kaiba wanted to live in.

"Why don't you tell us who you are before we blast you?"

Kaiba swung his flashlight around.

"Ack!"

The beam landed on two kids sitting huddled around a laptop. One of them flipped him the middle finger.

Kaiba hadn't known it was possible to give someone the bird that expressively.

"Fuck it, watch where you shine that thing, asshole!"

Except… now that Kaiba was looking at them, he realized with a shock that they weren't kids.

At least not human kids.

"What they hell?" Kaiba murmered.

Then he got blasted.

"I am not playing this game."

"No, I'm not playing this game."

"You're both playing this game, now sit down."

"Fine, but I get to be the red guy."

"Hell, no! I'm always the red guy!"

"I'll be the red guy. Now both of you, pick a card."

"Fine, I'll… Oh, ha! Suck it, bitch, I got Queen Frostine!"

"Dammit. Seriously, why are we playing this game?"

"Candy Land is good for the soul. Pick a card, Eliza."

Meanwhile, Marik, Bakura, and Japan sat silently, listening to the shadows swirl uneasily around them.

"… Well, whoever it was, they're gone now," Marik said finally. He turned back to Japan. "Anyway, tell us about yourself."

"As I said, I'm from the Hetalia fandom. I'm here with three others, at the moment," Japan said. "At least, three others from my fandom—although there are supposed to be more of us shortly. The three of us are the… test run, I suppose you could say. I believe more characters from different fandoms are to come later, but I haven't seen anyone but my companions. We were separated some time back, though. I would very much like to find them."

"Can't help you there," Marik said, shrugging and holding up his Rod. "We're stuck here ourselves."

"His fault," Bakura said, jabbing a finger at Marik.

"Shut up, you started it."

Bakura waved him off. "So, what are you, then? Protagonist, antagonist… antihero?"

Japan smiled slightly. "I'm afraid there are no protagonists in history. Everyone has a reason for what they do. Everyone is the hero in his own mind."

"Wow, deep," Marik said. "Me and Bakura are the bad guys. Well, I was a bad guy. Then I turned good." He made a face. "Not that I'm all that happy about that, but whatever. Boring me isn't so bad, I guess. Other than the fact that he's, you know, boring."

"Ah," Japan said. "What about you, Bakura?"

"I've always been evil, I suppose," Bakura said, shrugging. "Although, like you said, I never thought of myself as evil."

"He spent the better part of the series trying to avenge the deaths of ninety-nine family members," Marik said, nudging Bakura.

"With card games," Bakura added.

"… This is a strange world," Japan said, almost to himself.

"Well, welcome to the club," Marik said.

"I—" Japan started. Then he frowned. "Look," he said, pointing past Marik and Bakura. "Do you see that light?"

Marik and Bakura followed his gaze.

Far off in the distance, a bright, pulsing light flashed, red and blue, swirling around and mixing in with the shadows, casting a haunting, eerie glow. If they looked hard enough, it was almost possible to see…

"Is that a person?" Marik asked squinting. "What the—?"

Suddenly, the light vanished, sending the Shadows around them whirling with quick bursts of displaced energy.

"Whoa," Marik said.

"Think we should go check that out?"

"Yeah, maybe. What do you say, Japan?"

"I believe it would be beneficial to our search for an escape."

"Or our doom."

"Yes. Or that."

"Great, now look what you've done! Fuck, we are going to get our asses so fucking murdered, great job!"

"I'm sorry! I reacted wrong!"

"You threw him thirty feet with your mind!"

"Well, I didn't mean to! You're the one who threatened him!"

"Yeah, so he wouldn't kill us! I didn't think you'd actually do anything! How do you not mean to psychic blast somebody?"

"I don't know, instinct?"

"Instinct."

"Uh, yeah?"

"Mother of fuck, how do I even know you? Who's fucking fault is it that I'm stuck dealing with your skinny, lisping ass? I need to know who I have to punch."

"Oh, yeah, make fun of the lisp. That's real mature, asshole. And whatever happened, it was probably your fault. Shit, is the laptop okay?"

"Your lisp is just one of many on the long list of things about you that I will never stop making fun of. It's a universal-fucking-constant. And the laptop is fucking fine, you moron, but what are we supposed to do about trench coat guy?"

"I don't know, I have no people skills, remember?"

"You don't need people skills! He's unconscious! You need the opposite of people skills, which you oh-so-conveniently have!"

"Just… I don't know, make sure he's still breathing or something. I'm going to see if I can hack the system."

"What system?"

"Well, it has to have one, right? Otherwise, how'd we get here?"

"… Fuck, fine. Just hurry up. I don't actually want to die out here. Wherever the fuck here is."

"Middle of butt-fuck nowhere?"

"Sounds about right. Do your stupid nerd thing, or whatever."

"Aye-aye, fearless leader."

"I hate my life."

"I hate it, too. Now shut up."

"All right, how do you girls feel?"

"I hate you."

"I hate you, too."

"See, you agree on something! Now we're getting somewhere! So, who's up for a quick round of Pictionary?"

"Kill me."

"Only if you kill me."

"Deal."

Kitty and Eliza shook hands.

Boring Marik grinned in satisfaction.

He loved his job so much.

"Eliza, you're up first!"

"I'm out. Give my love to Eminem."

The Kuribohs on kitchen duty were not happy.

There was a stranger in their midst. Two strangers, actually, but only one of them was causing any sort of problems. The other was just standing awkwardly in the corner, looking around as though he was waiting for something to step out and eat him.

Smart. Kuribohs were always hungry.

Currently, they were very upset about this stranger dancing around their kitchen, dirtying their pots and pans…

… and making the most delicious-smelling pasta sauce?

The Kuribohs sniffed curiously. Was there… lemon dressing on that salad?

The stranger just laughed happily and tossed them some bread sticks.

Hm. The Kuribohs would withhold their judgment.

For now.

"Look at these things! They're so cute!"

"That one just ate six breadsticks at once!"

"Soooo cuuuuute!"

"Ugh."

"Hey! Do not eat that! Spatulas are not for eating! Bad puffball! Bad! Don't—aww. Aw, it's purring. Okay, I'm sorry I yelled at you. Here, have some pasta!"

"You're impossible."

"Whatever you say! Hand me that salt?"

"Hmph."

"Thank you!"

"Hey, guys?" Casey said at dinner, "does it seem weird to anyone else that, like, half our teachers are missing?"

Kokoru looked up from her mashed potatoes. "What?"

"Marik, Bakura, Kaiba…" Casey said, counting off on her fingers. "Where'd they go?"

"Um… who cares?" Kokoru said, looking at Casey like she was nuts. "It means we don't have to do work. Why the hell would we be upset about that?"

"Just asking," Casey said, pouting.

"Just eat your dinner, Casey," Rena said carelessly, waving a hand. "It'll blow over!"

"I don't know. I think Casey's right," Colonel said. "Doesn't anyone else feel like we're being completely ignored?"

"I know the feeling," someone to his right sighed.

Everyone craned their necks around to look at him.

"Holy shit!" Casey said.

The guy blinked. "Um. Hi. You can see me?"

Casey flapped her hands up and down. "Oh my god, I know you! You're—you're—!"

Then she passed out.

Everyone stared at her, then back at the new guy.

He shrank back down into his seat "… Sorry?" he squeaked.

Suddenly, a crash rang out from the kitchen, followed by a loud "Oops!"

The new guy sighed in relief. "Oh, thank goodness." Then he got up and bolted towards the kitchen without another word.

Colonel, Kokoru, and Rena stared at Casey.

"What," Kokoru said. "What the fuck?"

Casey didn't answer, as she was too busy being unconscious.

There was another crash from the kitchen.

"You should probably hurry up. I think trench-douche is waking up."

"They have some weird fucking security. All this pink shit is making it really hard to concentrate."

"Pink shit?"

"Yeah, there's, like, glitter inside their system. It's weird as fuck."

"Well, whatever. Can you get in?"

"Yeah, I'm almost there. Here, there's a memo or something I can get into. Maybe someone will respond to our desperate cries for help, or something."

"Fucking memos. I fucking hate fucking memos."

"Why?"

"Because people respond to them all the fucking time!"

"Well, that's kind of the point of a message board, you know."

"… Shut up and hack shit."

"Oh, hey, I'm in. Ehehe, the password was 'swordfish.'"

"The password's always swordfish."

"I know, I got it on the first guess. Noobs."

"You did not just say 'Noobs.'"

"Totally did. Here we go."

"What are you typ—oh. Really? Great, way to make them like you. Good job, fucknuts."

"Eeheheh."

Boring Marik waved to the girls on their way out of the office. "Bye! Make sure you come back next week!"

Eliza and Kitty looked at each other fearfully, then broke into a full sprint down the hall.

Marik chuckled to himself. "They're not coming back next week."

His work here was done.

See, a lot of people had Boring Marik down all wrong. He wasn't actually boring. He was just not evil! Last time he checked, "not evil" and "boring" were definitely not synonymous. He wasn't above twisting things a little for his benefit. And hey, it usually worked. They girls were already on their way to a blossoming friendship!

Granted, it was a friendship based on a mutual hate… but it was a start.

Marik hummed contentedly and closed the door behind him, sitting back down at his desk and booting up his computer. He hadn't checked his e-mail in a while. Maybe that new cape he'd ordered last week was in…

"Oh, hey, a memo!" Marik said, curser hovering over the message button. "No one ever posts memos anymore." It was a shame, really. Message boards were great for psycho-analysis.

Marik scrolled through the memo, then frowned. "Huh, that's funny. I haven't met anyone new yet. And the message here's a few days old…. Maybe they got lost or something." It wasn't like Yu-Gi-Oh! was a small fandom or anything, though. They were pretty easy to spot on the radar.

Marik shrugged. Oh well. He made to close the laptop, but something at the bottom of the message caught his eye.

… Didn't Eggy say not to respond to these things?

twinArmageddons [TA] 0:34 SECONDS AGO responded to memo.

TA: your 2ecuriity 2ucks, a22hole2.

Marik blinked. "Who is this guy?"

And why the heck was his text yellow? Talk about an eyesore!

Marik opened up a message box.

NiceMarik [NM] 0:10 SECONDS AGO responded to memo.

NM: … Hello?

TA: well hii there.