Sorry about that, guys...the mods deleted the whole fic. If you want to review the whole thing while I'm posting it, feel free--I made a few odifications here and there, but it's still the same basic storyline. I won't have any author'snotes at the beginning of the re-posted chapters--that is to say, 1-14. See you all again at #15!

Disclaimer Dude: Kazuki Takahashi owns YuGiOh. Miriku owns most of these OCs.

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Welcome To My World!

Bleep…

Bleep…

Bleep…

BLEEEEEEEEP!

With a startled yelp, I sprang out of bed. "I'm up, I'm up!"

Me. Miriku Hernandez, age fourteen. I'm just your average girl. Five foot three or four, goldish brown hair that reaches just below my shoulders, brown and gold eyes, and slightly square-rimmed glasses. I have an aversion to anything girlish. I'm sarcastic, paranoid, talkative, not a morning person, and obsessed with YuGiOh and writing. I like rock and country music (you can flame me all you want about it, but I think rap is just plain weird). I have a tendency to yell "Crud!" when things go wrong. I also talk to inanimate objects—especially when I'm distracted or mad.

…Okay, so maybe I'm not your average girl.

I looked at the time on my alarm clock—seven thirty—and growled. "Why in the hell am I waking up at seven thirty in the morning?"

I glanced at the calendar—and did a double-take.

"It's Saturday? Oh, no—I'm gonna be late for YuGiOh!"

I scrambled around the room, brushing my hair and pulling on my clothes. As soon as I had something on (a baggy white T-shirt and more or less baggy jeans, to be exact, which is my usual getup) I scampered out into the living room and plopped down on the couch in front of the TV.

I live in an apartment complex called Buena Vista Heights, and my parents and little brother are a whole three floors below me. My apartment is on the top floor, which is number ten. It's more like a little suite, really—a living room, bathroom, kitchen+dining room, and three bedrooms. I sleep in the first bedroom. The second one has my computer, desk, bookshelf, fanfiction supplies, X-Box, and just about everything that I couldn't cram anywhere else—it's my all-around rec room. The third is my guest room (not that I usually have any guests).

I watched the time on the cable box, waiting. At seven fifty-five, I turned on the TV and put it on Kid's WB. I began to bounce in my seat, impatient.

Finally, eight o'clock came. But, instead of YuGiOh, it was—Liberty's Kids!

Now, I have no problem watching Liberty's Kids. But I had been waiting all week to see this episode of YuGiOh—and I was shocked. There was no way they had cancelled my show!

But they had. Scrolling up and down the guide, I saw no trace of YuGiOh anywhere.

"This sucks!" I shouted at my TV. "You're supposed to be showing YuGiOh, you stupid piece of worthless junk!"

Suddenly, the screen glowed bluish white. I stopped, and blinked.

"Umm…you weren't supposed to respond to that, you know…"

There was a sort of roaring noise, and the screen glowed brighter. Suddenly, a person fell out. He hit the floor with a loud thud, and groaned slightly. Other than that, though, he didn't move. I gaped—there was absolutely no mistaking that spiky, tri-color hair.

Yuugi Mutou was lying on my living room floor.

With a muffled thump, a second person dropped out of the TV and landed on top of Yuugi. The pale blond hair, lavender shirt, and gold jewelry confirmed him as Malik Ishtar.

A third person slid out of the screen, hit the dogpile, and slid to the floor. His face was as pale as his white hair. It was Ryou Bakura.

I nearly panicked when a fourth person fell to the floor. There was only one person in the whole show who wore dramatically flaring trench coats—and that was Seto Kaiba.

"This is not happening!" I exclaimed.

What happened next shocked me even more, if that was possible. Yuugi and Ryou blurred—and split into two. And the two figures were completely solid.

The second figure sat bolt upright, and began to swear in three different languages. I hazarded a guess that this was Bakura—and he had a rather colorful vocabulary.

"Ah…excuse me?"

"Nasu maro kamau?" Bakura snarled, glaring at me. "Ore-sama gozen isogashii!" (Do you mind? I'm busy!)

I sweatdropped. "Yes, I mind. In case you hadn't noticed, this is my living room. Now, would you please stop ranting away in Japanese and inform me as to what the hell is going on?"

Bakura blinked. He slowly looked around. "Nani okeru za yochi…?" (What in the world…?)

"Exactly," I muttered.

He stood up, still looking around. "Who are you?" he demanded—in English, this time. "Where are we?"

"My name is Miriku," I answered, still slightly numbed by the fact that I was actually talking to an anime character. "We're in South Florida. You know, America?"

"America?" Bakura exclaimed. He swore in a fourth language that sounded like French.

I rolled my eyes. This reminded me more of the Japanese version of YuGiOh than the American. All-original beauty, I thought dryly.

Bakura suddenly stopped swearing. He had just noticed Ryou, Kaiba, Malik, Yuugi, and Yami.

"How did they get like that!" he demanded, pointing to Yuugi, Yami, and Ryou.

"I'm supposed to know that!"

"Well, I sure as hell don't!"

I threw up my arms. "Dammit, baka tomb robber! You're friggin' useless!"

This was one of the best moments of my life. Bakura—the Bakura, the one who was never surprised—was staring at me, slack-jawed. "How the hell do you know that!"

I mentally slapped myself. Of course he didn't know he was a TV character. "That…might take a bit of explaining."

Bakura crossed his arms. "Well, start."

Ryou let out a faint whimper of pain. I sighed. "I'll get him."

Bakura watched me suspiciously as I picked Ryou up off the floor. "What are you doing with him? You do know I need him, right?"

"I'm putting him on the couch," I replied, doing just that. "And yes, I do know that. But no, you don't need him any more."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, his tone still suspicious.

I rolled my eyes. "News flash—you're real here. In my world, spirits don't exist."

"…Your world?"

I mentally slapped myself again. "I'll explain it while we take care of the others."

---

It took us about five minutes to get everyone separated. Ryou, as mentioned before, was on the couch. Yami was in the rec room, Kaiba in the recliner, and Malik in the guest room. I was carrying Yuugi, trying to figure out where to put him, when he groaned and twitched.

"Oy, Bakura!" I called. "Quit bugging Yami—I think Yuugi's waking up!"

Bakura grumbled to himself, exiting the rec room. "Why can't the pharaoh's brat just stay down when he goes down?"

I sweatdropped, and set Yuugi on the floor. "Why don't you go and start waking up the others?"

Bakura stalked off, grumbling.

Yuugi groaned again, and his eyes fluttered open. "Nani…?"

"Welcome back to the world of the living," I said, helping him sit up.

"That's not funny," he mumbled, rubbing his head.

"Of course it's not funny to you. Anywho, short stuff, welcome to my apartment."

Yuugi sat up, and looked around. "What the…how did I get here?"

I shrugged. "No idea. Ask him." I jerked my thumb at Bakura, who was now busy poking Kaiba's arm.

Yuugi stared at them for a moment. "Ano…where are we?"

I shook my head. "Get Bakura to tell you, and start waking people up while you're at it. I have a gravekeeper to wake right now."

That said, I went to the guest room.

I poked Malik in the arm. "Hello? Earth to Malik—anyone copy?"

Malik groaned, rolling over. "Five more minutes, Ishizu!"

I sweatdropped. "I am not Ishizu, thank you! Now get your sorry behind out of my bed, before I roll you out of it myself!"

Malik sat bolt upright at that. He looked around, a slightly stunned expression on his face. "Where am I?"

"My guest room," I replied.

"Well, who are you? How did I get here? And why aren't you speaking Japanese?"

I rolled my eyes. "Because this is America, ya nimrod."

Malik stared at me for a moment. "What?"

At that moment, Bakura poked his head in. "Hey, girlie—the pharaoh's up, and so's Ryou. We're having some trouble with Rich-boy, though."

That was when he noticed Malik, whose hand was twitching ever so slightly towards the Millennium Rod in his back pocket. He chuckled evilly. "Well, if it isn't the gravekeeper." He turned to me. "Your turn to explain it. I have to keep trying to get Kaiba awake."

"Thanks a lot!" I shouted at his retreating form.

Malik cocked his head slightly. "Explain what?"

I sighed. "Well, you see…"

And so I explained everything to him. His eyes got wider and wider. When I finished, he narrowed them. "Get me back home."

"I…can't."

He stood there for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"You're dead."

I screamed, running out of the room, Malik right behind me.

"INSANE HOMICIDAL GRAVEKEEPER ON THE LOOOOOOSE!" I shouted, diving behind the couch.

Malik stormed in two seconds later. "Where is she!"

Bakura sniggered. "Over there—behind the couch."

"Traitor!" I snapped, standing up.

Bakura shrugged nonchalantly. "Better you than me!"

Yuugi darted up. "Calm down, Malik! It's not her fault we're here!"

Malik grumbled, but allowed himself to calm down a little.

Ryou looked at me. "We've been trying to get Kaiba up for a long time—it's not working that well."

Yami nodded. "Would you mind giving us a hand?"

I began to shake Kaiba's shoulder. "Hello? Dude, are you gonna wake up any time this century?"

Kaiba rolled over onto his back, murmuring something about a report that was due.

Suddenly, I got an idea. "Hey, Malik…d'ya think he's thirsty?"

Malik stared at me for a moment. Realization dawned on his face, and he sniggered. "Why don't we find out?"

Bakura cackled. "I'll get the water!" He darted into the kitchen, returning with a cup full of ice cold water.

Yami laughed. "I know what you three are up to!"

Ryou and Yuugi stared at me as I took the cup of water from Bakura. "Guys, gimme a countdown, please!"

Bakura, Malik, and Yami complied, the former two grinning evilly.

"Five! Four! Three! Two! One!"

I dumped the glass of water on Kaiba's face. The CEO sat bolt upright, sputtering. He pawed at his face, wiping the water out of his eyes. Everyone burst out laughing.

"Thanks for waking up, Sleeping Beauty," I said with a smirk

Kaiba growled, pushing his damp hair out of his face. "Oh, hardy har. Very funny. Now, will you tell me what's going on?"

I shrugged. "How should I know? One second I'm trying to watch my favorite anime, the next six of the characters—which includes you, Kaiba—are in my living room."

Kaiba snorted. "Right. Like I'm supposed to—"

He stopped. "Wait a second. How do you know my name?"

I grinned. "Magic."

Everyone burst out laughing—except Kaiba, of course. He growled, crossing his arms. "Whatever. Just get us back home."

I stopped laughing instantly. "The only problem is…I don't think there is a way for you to get home!"