A note of thanks to my reviewers! Here goes:

Battygirl: No prob. Anyway, thanks for the faithful reviews.

Ranma Higurashi: Thanks for all the reviews! And don't worry, I'll update as soon as possible.

The New Shinigami Hikari: Ahaha, I know. The animators ARE mean to Chazz…". Thanks for reading!

Kath-chan: Yep! I'll be updating pretty often. Thanks!

Mixedfic: Awww. Thanks. Will do.

And a little note to everyone: In one of my reviews, someone (they signed it anonymously) noted that I don't use the Japanese names. I know a lot of fic writer's use the original names, but I've never seen the Japanese version (I'd love to be able to speak Japanese, but I can't), so I'm just going to stick to the English names.

Also! When you guys leave reviews, I'll try to respond to them in a head-note, or foot-note. Awesome! Thanks for reading. . And onto the story.

The massive, yellow-brick building peered leeringly down at Chazz. What few windows there were, were narrow and seemed like little insect-eyes, glittering tauntingly at him from where he couldn't reach them. He was feverish, and his clothes were soaked through because of the melted snow around the little fire, which was dying out. He needed to get to a phone, but he didn't have the energy to find another card…

He let his head flop back onto the snow, and just lay there, feeling snow-flakes touch his fever-flushed skin. The force of his head hitting the snow knocked a pile loose around his body, and it pillowed up under him. Something glittered in the light, a jewel-bright tone against the unbroken monotony that was the snow. A Duel Monsters card!

He stared at it like a magpie would, for a few moments, watching it glitter. Then he snatched it up almost violently, and staggered to the door. The world lurched and spun disarmingly around him as he pounded his fists on the door.

"Let me in, I completed your stupid game! I have your cards!" His voice was hoarse, and it was quite clear that he was sick; his voice tapered off with a hoarse, strangled word, but he didn't care. He just wanted to get inside, into the warmth as soon as was possible.

The door swung open, then, the doors that were fifteen feet high, or higher! It was rather impressive, he had to say. He watched them swing open, and leant back as they did, looking at the…city?

There was a little Western town encompassed behind those doors. Saloon-like buildings, very Western-esque, sat behind the walls. Someone with a heavy Turkish accent was speaking, and then a teacher…the old man. He himself was demanding questions. Duels were fought – everything was such a blur, and it was becoming all too tiring.

He closed his eyes as he won the last duel, and collapsed onto the dusty ground. The school crowded around him.

"He's our new top duelist!"

"Yeah, but he just collapsed. He can't be all THAT strong…!"

"He must've just gotten lucky."

"He won fair and square!"

"Lucky my butt! You're just jealous because he beat you!"

The voices rang out over the dusty street as everyone looked at Chazz, crumpled in the middle of the circle. Silence rang over the little area for a bit, and then someone blinked quietly, watching him, not moving. Chazz's face was so pretty when he was unconscious, eyelashes like black needles on his too-white skin. His lips and cheeks were flushed, and his breathing was laboured, as though someone had dropped a heavy weight over his shoulders and chest.

"We should take him to the infirmary, shouldn't we?"

"…Yeah, probably."

And that was how Chazz Princeton became the best of Northface Academy.