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Viktor was considered a very young godfather, or vor v zakone if you are looking for a more Russian equivalent. You could also say his 'family' was a bit old fashioned in rules. As he was put in his position while in prison, it used to be a common custom, and he couldn't be married. Well, the lucky bastard wasn't. There were a lot of peculiar traits about the Russian maffia really. Like how they were more often than not more popular than the governement with the people, or how a lot of people were not Russian at all.
But Viktor was not one to follow all the rules, he was the type that loved to rebel a bit and surprise his audience and underlings. He was one to hold people dear and it would show in his choice of ranks. One of his two spies was a protégé. Yuuri Katsuki was the living evidence of their alliance with one of the most powerfull Japanese maffiagangs on the board right now. The Kyushu Seido-Kai had send an 18-year old Katsuki to the former vor v zakone. The young man was probably a gift, although he was a son of a trusted member of the Japanese gang. He had him command all the defense troops and was his most trusted advisor, as he was now 27.
His second underling on the other hand was given, security and offense at a younger age. Yuri Plisetsky, nicknamed the mad demon, was 18 and ambitious. He was the kind of guy that would sell his soul for a high position, although in this matter it was handed to him by Nikiforov. He saw the young Russian as a nephew and held him very dear, even though his wicked side liked to come out sometimes.
'You can't run from your shadow, but you can invite it to dance.' The sentence came clear into Viktors mind. Wise words by a wise man, but if only his shadow was only a shadow and not a man who'd rather see him suffer than to kill him right away. He looked at his shot advisor, anger and grugde boiling in his piercing blue eyes.
"Hide, leave me", a wounded Katsuki urged his leader, but Viktor remained still and at his side.
"I cannot hide from a shadow", Nikiforov muttered, more to himself than to his underling, but Yuuri's eyes widened nevertheless. The footsteps in the distance and the angry shouting announced Plisetsky's arrival. The young male started to shout even more commands and all the men hurried around to either go search for the culprit or witnesses, guard their bosses and only two select people to help Yuuri.
Viktor knew that Yuuri was not one for violence, it just was never his way, because it was common for Japanese maffia to not be violent. He was just unlucky this was Russia. He was staring at Yuuri, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Gospodin, we've captured a witness."
Viktor sighed, he was tired and the witness probably wasn't very useful anyway, but he turned around anyway. He looked to the man, he seemed to be a foreigner and very, very confused and scared.
"Hello, do you know why you're here?" Viktor asked in accented English. His English was decent, but he could never hide his accent, not that he cared much, he was proud to be Russian.
"N-no. I know nothing. Are you guys criminals? H-Hel-" Viktor shut him up by putting a finger on his lips to silence him.
"Tch, tch, tch. We're not just criminals, we're maffia", the leader said proudly and a look of disbelief crossed the foreigners face, displeasing Viktor who was now very short tempered because of the recent occasions. "Why," he emphasized the word, "do foreigners always think all maffia is Italian? For god's sake, we're Bratva, fear us!" It sounded cold, but a roar of voices came from behind as the rest of his family cheered because of his words. "He's useless", he announced, in Russian now, and shot the guy in the head. "Dispose of him."
His commands were swift and he fixed his gaze on a concentrated Yuri Plisetsky.
"Yuri, let the scouting parties continue, keep me up to date and be vigilant. The enemy takes a liking in my underlings."
Viktor sat next to a sleeping Yuuri, the soft blips from the heart monitor in audible in the background. He was healing fast, but it still took time. He'd been lucky and no vital organs had been hit. The sheets rustled when he moved and his eyes fluttered open.
"Viktor?" he asked in a crooked voice. He had been asleep for two days, so he hadn't spoken in a while. The Japanese tried to sit up, but before he really could, Viktor made a displeased sound.
"Don't even try to sit up by yourself, Katsuki", he said. The man sounded stern but slighty anxious tone. The brown met the blue in a moment of eyecontect. Yuuri seemed determined, but a bit of fear seemed to hide in his eyes as well.
"How long was I out?" he asked, a slight tremble in his voice. The reason for the fear was found.
"Two days, but-" Viktor wanted to say more but was interrupted by his underling, who now grabbed his black tie as it was his lifeline. He'd never seen the younger male like that and little did he know he was about to be even more surprised.
"When I heal up, teach me how to fight, how to defend myself!", Yuuri said and Viktors eyes widened. He was given a gun, but by his knowing he never used it, but the strange feeling he didn't even know how to use it haunted Viktor a bit. The boss came back to his senses and ushered the wounded fellow back into his soft bed. He seemed pained. No wonder when you make abrupt movements like that, stupid Yuuri.
"Okay, I agree to teach you', the Russian said, taking the other one's face into his hands. "On one condition. Never leave my side or do anything rash ever again."
"That are two conditions", Yuuri grinned.
"Take it or leave it." With his free hand, Yuuri pulled him down until their foreheads met, his eyes filled with even more determination.
"You got yourself a deal Nikiforov."