fic edited from original version: May 2014
Almost like humidity and fire, but alive. Yuma had walked and ran through mist before - normal mist, the kind like sharp fog. In his adventures with his dad, he had imitated heroes on television, swaggering through the hissing air as though the shearing wisps of water were some sort of a challenge to go through despite how easily he conquered them. That was how mist was supposed to feel - pinching, harmless.
He heard Ninety-six scream after glimpsing Astral's reappearance. At first, Yuma thought that the black smoke was coming from the AR image of the duel monster on the field, Black Mist's, defeat, but then the smoke started to move. Ninety-six's essence, his form, his intent - all of that swirled and tried to grab onto the nearest thing in order to hold off being sealed by Astral's power, and the nearest thing to him was Yuma. The duelist braced his feet flat on the ground and felt himself rock as the Mist pushed and plowed against him. The wind and force of Tetsuo's attack weren't what was causing Yuma's hair and clothes to ruffle. He was being literally pulled. Every which way, the dark smoke, like plump claws, tried to grab him - and Yuma wasn't sure whether Ninety-six was simply trying to avoid being trapped by Astral, or if the insistent pulling meant that he was trying to suck Yuma in with him.
The scream echoed and grew louder as the thick fog began to finally dissipate. The last of it felt as though Ninety-six was trying to shred Yuma's face and cheeks, claw into and nestle uselessly onto his waist, like a lethal hugger not willing to let go. Then the horrible noise ceased, abruptly, as though Astral had closed a thick door on his Shadow. Yuma opened his eyes to the last few moments of sunset, and then opened his hand to inspect his saving Key.
He blinked, hard, before shaking his head, and ran to Tetsuo. The feel of flesh and camaraderie worked to distract him from whatever it was he had just felt. …The cold, the solid air. The liveliness of something not meant to be alive, and the energy Ninety-six still had as Astral sealed him, inspiring the foreboding feeling that he was still very much undead.