He was freezing and starving, sitting all alone in the woods. As much as everyone else would say to go ahead and put the man out of his misery, Viktor couldn't just leave him there, enemy soldier as he may be. So, naturally, he went straight towards him without an ounce of fear.
"Hello, are you alright?" Viktor asked politely, only to be met with a confused and slightly scared look. He only then realised that the soldier must not speak Russian. He most definitely did not look Russian. His eyes were too narrow and his skin was too dark. Viktor guessed he was from somewhere in Asia, but he couldn't be sure where. He couldn't look at his uniform and tell, either, being as the whole suit was covered in snow and dirt.
"Uh, are you alright?" Viktor asked again, but in English this time. The soldier took quite a long time to respond, and Viktor almost thought that he didn't understand English either.
The soldier very gently nodded his head, looking away. Viktor knew he wasn't, even though he asked. He took it upon himself to take the soldier home to take care of him. He was an adult after all, what could Yakov do to stop him? Tell on him to his mother?
"What happened?" Viktor questioned. The soldier shivered and looked at Viktor again.
"Left behind. They took everything." He said in shaky voice. Viktor took this as his cue to tell him of his plans to help.
"Well, I suppose I should take you to where you can get help." Viktor smiled, standing up and outstretching a hand. The soldier didn't grab his hand, just looked away.
"I couldn't. I'm an enemy in your territory. You might as well kill me and get it over with." He said.
"Absolutely not. Come on, I'll feed you and give you a place to stay. My home has plenty of room for you." Viktor said, smiling again. He took of his scarf and wrapped it around the soldier's neck, swearing that he could feel the cold radiating from the man's face. The soldier stopped fighting and allowed himself to be taken to wherever he was going.
He could barely hold himself up as they trudged through the tall layers of snow. Viktor wondered exactly how long he had been there. He had to have guessed around a couple of days.
Viktor went a little quicker once he saw his home. He saw the soldier's eyes widen in shock as he looked at the manor. Viktor wasn't low on money, that much was certain. He really hoped that the soldier wasn't too overwhelmed, but it looked like he was. He pulled his arm quickly from Viktor's shoulders and fell back into the snow.
"I can't possibly go into your home. It's too nice. I'm absolutely filthy and covered in frost. Just leave me out here to die. It won't be long." The man mumbled in a pained, but somewhat monotone voice. It was obvious he had given up a long time ago. Maybe even before he had been abandoned.
"Don't talk like that. Come on, let's go inside and get you cleaned up. I can have some food made for you and then you can sleep. How does that sound?" Viktor suggested. "By the way, what's your name?"
"I. . . there's no getting out of this, is there?" The soldier asked. He had finally gotten the idea that Viktor was determined to hospitalise him, no matter how much it took.
"Nope. Now, what's your name? I want to address you properly. In fact, I'll say my name first. I'm Viktor, and you are?" Viktor said, switching from subject to subject. He had always been like this. He hated dwelling on a single moment.
"I'm Yuuri. Uh, thank you so much for the hospitality. Really, I can't thank you enough. I promise I will be gone before you know it." The soldier, apparently named Yuuri, said, bowing in front of Viktor.
"Okay, Yuuri. Let's go inside. You'll really have to ignore my younger step brother for now. Most likely my stepfather as well. I don't think they've even heard of the word compassion." Viktor smiled, helping Yuuri up again and gladly guiding him inside.
Once they were inside the manor, Yuuri's eyes opened even wider, then squinted against the light. It was bright, and Viktor can only imagine how bright it must seem after being in the forest for days by yourself, most likely not moving an inch. He just patted Yuuri off a little, realising how frozen he actually was. It wasn't long before the shivers set in, sending Yuuri into a fit of shaking, almost like a scared child.
After patting most of the snow off, a flag made itself apparent. It was sewn into the sleeve. A Japanese flag, stark against the dark green of his uniform. Viktor at least knew where Yuuri was from. So far, his name and homeland were all he knew about the man. He longed to know more, as always.
"Viktor, who in the absolute hell is that?" Viktor heard a voice yell, however it was in Russian. He turned towards the large staircase and saw his younger step brother, Yuri. The blond boy looked more than displeased.
"Someone I found. It's really none of your concern." Viktor replied, hoping it didn't seem too rude that he was speaking about Yuuri right in front of him, but in language he did not understand.
"It is my business. I live here, too. Just because you're inheriting the money doesn't mean that I'm completely irrelevant." Yuri complained. The boy could definitely complain, that's for certain.
"Just leave it, Yuri. Can't you see that he was about to die?" Viktor responded.
"You should've let him. He's an enemy. A Yaposhka. You complete idiot, Viktor." Yuri almost screamed. He hardly contained his anger. He looked like he was about to burst at the seams.
Viktor ignored his younger brother put his attention back on the small huddle of soldier in front of him, finding that he had fallen asleep, right there on the floor. Viktor couldn't blame him. But, he wasn't about to just leave Yuuri there, so he heaved him up the best he could manage and began dragging him towards the bathroom. He figured that he could wake Yuuri in there.
Once inside the room, he began prodding at Yuuri's face, trying to wake him. It didn't look like he would be getting up anytime soon. He felt rude taking Yuuri's clothes off without his permission, but he was filthy and Viktor figured some time in hot water would do his body some good, so he ignored all of his worries. It wasn't like he was going to do anything to him. He would never put someone through that. He was just going to put him in the tub and clean him a bit.
It didn't take as long to strip Yuuri as he'd imagined. He was wearing far less layers than Russian soldiers were. He figured it made sense, though. Russia was probably like Antarctica compared to Japan.
The hot water did well in making Yuuri's skin turn from a sickly purple-blue to a more natural tan colour. It also seemed to relax his body that managed to stay tensed up even during his sleep. He looked so much healthier now that he had warmed up.
Viktor took special care in cleaning Yuuri's hair, trying very hard to keep the soap out of his eyes. Not to mention that Yuuri's hair had a different texture than his did. It was far more fine and soft feeling, despite being dirty and matted. It seemed much nicer once ridded of the large collections of dirt and muck. He was actually kind of good-looking.
Viktor shook those thoughts out of his head. Not only had he gotten this boy naked without asking, but Viktor himelf was also a boy. People around his home didn't accept that type of behaviour. Viktor didn't think many even around the world did, despite how big the world is and how different cultures thought in different ways. Instead of thinking about how Yuuri was kind of attractive, he went back to scrubbing him clean.
After what felt like hours (and probably was hours), Viktor took Yuuri out of the tub to dry him. The man hadn't once stirred from his sleep. He had to have been insanely tired, and Viktor couldn't find the heart to wake him up, so he took him to one of the guest rooms near his own. He just looked so calm and peaceful.
It took a while to find clothes that would fit Yuuri's smaller body, but Viktor managed to find some of his older nightclothes. That would have to do until Viktor could get Yuuri awake to find more. He took the garments over to Yuuri's sliding them onto his body with ease and then picking the man up, guiding him over to the bed. He tried to be careful to not wake him up, although he's sure that a bomb wouldn't even stir him at this point.
After settling down from taking care of his guest, he heard the door. He hoped it was his mother, who was far more caring and understanding than his stepfather and stepbrother, but his luck had forsaken him.
"Papa, you'll never guess what Viktor dragged in this time." Yuri called almost as soon as his father entered the home.
"It had better not be another dog. That poodle he took in years ago already causes enough trouble." Viktor's stepfather, Yakov, said angrily. Viktor was certain the man didn't have any other emotions.
"It might has well have been a dog. Maybe even worse." Yuri said, knowing that he was poking a bright and hot fire. What a shit of a brother.
"What do you mean by that? The mutts he drags in aren't the worst the slums have to offer?" Yakov questioned, removing his coat and other outerwear. Viktor finally caught Yuri's attention, trying to urge him with his eyes to wait until Viktor's mother got home. Yuri just smirked.
"He was able to bring in an entire Yaposhka. Straight from the forest." Yuri said. It didn't take long for Yakov to realise what exactly Yuri had said and when he did. . .
"Viktor! Get down here immediately!" He screamed through the house. Viktor hoped he didn't wake Yuuri as he trudged down the stairs. Arguing with Yakov was pretty much impossible. He'd always switch the situation around.
Viktor went downstairs with no intention of giving into the older man. After all, he was pushing thirty, why should Yakov be allowed to dictate his actions? He wasn't even truly related to him and therefore had no power over him. After all, even if Viktor's mother were to pass away and Yakov was still alive, Viktor would be the one in charge then. Yakov was only married into the Nikiforov family registry, not born in.
"Why on Earth are you dragging in foreign soldiers? Do you have any idea who he is? He could be a spy for all you know!" Yakov yelled at the top of his lungs. It could make a foghorn cower in fear simply from sheer volume.
"Because he was going to get hypothermia out there. You saw how cold it was. He would have never made it out there by himself. And besides, he said that he had been abandoned by his own group, so what threat could he be? They took everything from him." Viktor tried to reason with Yakov. It was, of course, useless.
"You think that's an excuse? He could have been lying to you. You know how they are." Yakov complained.
"No, I don't know how they are. I know the propaganda against him." Viktor huffed. If he was totally honest, he was used to doing what he wanted without question. In other words, he was a little spoiled.
"Do you even know his name?" Yuri asked, shoving his way into the conversation.
"Yes, his name is Yuuri, just like yours." Viktor responded calmly.
"And a last name?" Yuri pressed further. That hit Viktor. He didn't know Yuuri's last name, and Yuuri didn't know his. They were at a mutual loss with each other.
Yuri let out a short bark of laughter before being interrupted by the front door opening and then shutting loudly.
"What are you fighting about now?" Asked a smooth, but aged voice. Perfect, just the person Viktor needed.
"Mama, welcome home. Here, let me take your coat for you." Viktor said, doting ever so slightly as to try and get his mother on his side before she even knew what was happening.
"What did you do?" Ivana, Viktor's mother, quickly snipped at him. She knew he only acted that courteous as soon as she walked in the door meant he was the root of the problem. A mother knows her son best. Viktor turned to look at her, trying and failing to hide his guilt.
"He's causing more trouble is what he's doing. He brought back someone he barely knows and expects us to let him stay here." Yakov cut in, not even bothering to let Viktor speak.
"Viktor. . ." His mother began.
"He was dying out there. Just let him stay here. I'll take care of him, you don't have to worry about a thing." Viktor said, spitting out words as fast as he could, not thinking about what he was saying.
"How are you going to find the time? Both Yuri and you have dance most days and how would Yuri's instructor react? And yours?" Ivana replied. This was getting far more complicated than Viktor cared to think about.
He had a long, long night ahead of him.
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Hello there! This is finally my first serious fanfiction on this site and I'm really excited! I actually forgot I had this account for a while haha and it's nice to be back. This is 'Talisman', a Viktuuri fanfiction set in 1940 during WW2. That's my favourite war to learn about so I figured I might as well make a fanfiction in that era. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the rest of the story that is yet to come!
-MidnightQuestant