#interactive drabble

It was a relatively peaceful day, Yugi resting quietly under the shade of a large tree in the park and working on one of his newest knitting projects. He was perfectly content just to stay right where he was, occasionally looking up to people watch or stretch a little, but otherwise just relaxing and doing his own thing. Or at least he was...Until the arrival of two familiar faces began to stalk his way.

Unfortunately for Yugi, he took notice of their presence too late. By the time he looked up to see who was standing over him, one of the men was already reaching for him, hooking a few fingers under the choker he was wearing and rather roughly yanking the young man to his feet. The sudden pressure against his neck caused him to give a strangled cough, though because the pressure was almost instantly released, he didn't have any trouble breathing afterwards.

"Well, if it isn't our old friend, little Yugi~." One of the men purred out, smirking as he kept two fingers hooked under Yugi's choker, albeit holding onto him very lightly as not to harm him.

The second man that was with him grabbed hold of Yugi's chin, tilting his head up to get a better look at him, a low chuckle leaving him. "Aww, what's the matter? Nothing to say?" He jeered, both men laughing as Yugi pulled backwards against the hold they had, though they didn't let him go.

Their laughter, the hold they had him in, it was enough to trigger those vivid memories. The agonizing pain of having his jaw wrenched open, the wire they used slicing into his tongue as he felt them jamming some sort of metal down his throat, the feeling of his mouth and airways filling with his own blood as his vocal cords were ripped apart.

He hadn't been able to scream for help then...And he couldn't now. Had they returned to finish what they had started? Or were they admiring their handywork that had silenced him forever? Yugi didn't know what their intentions were, yet all he could do was stand there and cower, his entire body violently trembling under the weight of those laughing men that had taken his voice, as well as his ability to breathe properly.

The first man raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Well that's quite the improvement. I like you so much better when you're silent...I think we both did the world a favor, now nobody has to listen to your constant yapping." The man spoke to Yugi in a taunting tone of voice, mocking the clear terror upon his face. And yet, within a few split seconds, the men suddenly released their hold on him and turned to saunter casually away, having succeeded in their mission to apparently keep Yugi in check and make sure they had truly silenced him forever.

All of a sudden, he couldn't breathe, the panic that had settled into his veins sent his body into a desperate fight or flight mode. But he couldn't run, if he ran, they would catch him. If he tried to fight, he would be killed, or perhaps worse.

Tears streamed their way down his face as he tried desperately to regain enough air, yet his breaths were rapid and too shallow to allow him to take in enough oxygen. His legs buckled and he sank to the ground, body wracked in violent shivers as he wheezed and coughed, trying to stop hyperventilating, but to no avail.

Tobirama shot him an unimpressed look and shoved his pack at him to carry. “I've been on the move for a week straight since I needed to get here in a timely manner. When do you think I would have had time?”

Izuna's nose wrinkled but he carried the bag anyway. “That is disgusting. As soon as we're inside you are so going to have a bath. And you need to shave off that thing that's growing on your face. I think it might be a fungus of some sort. In fact, I think we should take you to a medic and get you checked out.”

Tobirama rolled his eyes, holding back a snort of amusement. “I’m fine.” He said dryly. “Though a bath sounds like heaven right about now.”

“I insist.” Izuna stressed. For a moment, they looked at each other, Tobirama with a quirked brow and Izuna with a serious expression. Then his lips twitched, and Tobirama let out an inelegant snort, and they both burst into laughter.

It was odd. Utterly bizarre to laugh like this together when the last time they had been in one another’s presence, Izuna wouldn’t even look at him. But… it felt good. To laugh like this.

It lightened his heart a little bit. Considering the circumstances for his return, it was desperately needed.

“Come on.” Izuna shouldered Tobirama’s pack and started across the courtyard. “Ashura had your old room cleared out. It was mostly used as storage, and all the stuff you left behind still there, so you can-” Izuna paused and gave him a once-over. “... Put on some clean clothes. Please.”

Once more Tobirama rolled his eyes and slung his staff over his back, and began to follow. Hearing that his old room was still… well, hearing that it hadn’t been given to someone else or converted into a proper storage room made his heart ache. Just a little. He’d only been allowed to take a few of his possessions when he left. It was… nice to know that his things hadn’t been touched.

He couldn’t help but wonder why though.

The citadel hadn’t changed much in the ten years he’d been gone. There looked to be few new additions to the structure, some new outbuildings and what looked to be a new offshoot tower was under construction. The white marble walls still gleamed beautifully in the waning light, but there was just something…

Off.

He’d noticed it, the closer he’d gotten. The Order of Magi’s citadel reeked of powerful magics; wards upon wards were woven through the air in a circumference that spanned the entire structure and even a mile beyond its expansive walls. It was a beacon to anyone who had even a touch of magic sense. It was so familiar, it felt like he was coming home. And in a way, he was.

But through the magic drenched air, there was a tang of something that was… hard to focus on. The more he tried to focus on it, the more difficult it was to grasp. It raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Set his teeth on edge.

It wasn’t right.

He noticed that there were fewer people about too. It could simply be due to the late hour, if Tobirama remembered correctly then it would be dinner time around now, but even still. Those he saw moving about the courtyard did so with their heads down - moving quickly in the waning light.

Tobirama pursed his lips and faced forwards, observing Izuna carefully. He felt normal, his magical aura bright and simmering with heat and electricity. But he carried himself with a tension that he never had before. He was smiling, as easy as ever, but the dark circles under his eyes spoke for themselves.

There was something going on in the Order. And if Ashura’s letter was correct, then it had to do with the Archmage.

Indra Otsutsuki.

Just thinking of that man had a heavy weight appearing in his stomach. The memory of Indra watching him with those cold dark eyes and emotionless face came to mind as easily as if it had only taken place yesterday. Not ten years ago, when he had been exiled from the order for defying orders and breaking the laws of nature.

It hadn’t been Tobirama’s proudest moment. There were some times he even regretted it. If he’d been anyone else, then he would have been imprisoned and likely executed.

But whether that was because of who his family was, or it was because Indra felt pity for him, Tobirama had never been certain.

As if the gods had read his mind and decided it was delightful time to start pulling strings, Tobirama felt something tickle the edges of his senses. It was something very, very familiar.

As familiar as it was wrong.

A chill crept down Tobirama’s spine. Izuna didn’t notice when Tobirama’s steps faltered and came to a stop, and continued on towards the large, wooden doors that served as the main entrance to the citadel.

Tobirama sucked in a breath, and slowly looked up.

High up above, on one of the balconies closest to the top where Tobirama’s eyes could no longer make out explicit detail, there was a flash of white and silver. It caught the fading light, making the figure appear as if they were glowing, and Tobirama swallowed an odd feeling of trepidation.

This was it. The off feeling that he’d felt lingering in the atmosphere. It was…

It made something inside of him hiss and bristle, threatened and ready to defend. Something dark and not right and -

Ashura’s letter made sense now. The hastily scrawled plea for Tobirama to return, the apology for not being able to explain over letter and that he’d properly tell Tobirama in person. The fear that there was something very wrong with his brother.

High up on that balcony, Indra Otsutsuki stood and watched. Watched the courtyard. Watched Tobirama.

He could see it, flashing around the edges, in the shadows, in the aura surrounding the Archmage. Something black. Something vile.