Yūri was in his element even if he didn't like it. His hands were covered in blood and he felt like breaking down every moment now. But he couldn't and he wouldn't. This wasn't the first time that someone he loved got shot right in front of him. It has happened before and surely it would happen again someday. There was no time to lose his nerves now.

Right after pushing the unconscious Viktor back on the bench and bringing him in a comfortable situation, Yūri tried to get the attention of the band of gangsters in the room. Kenji and Mila were at Viktor's side. Kenji tried to shield him a little while Mila tried to stop the bleeding. Yūri yelled commands in English, but nobody seemed to care, until he pulled out his Berretta and shot the ceiling. Twice.
"Shut the fuck up, everyone!" Finally, he had the attention of the mobster pack. Yūri brushed his hair back with one of his blood covered hands. At least it kept slicked back like this. Everyone was staring at him in horror, some expressions were more hateful than others. He didn't care, he had a job to do and if this little gesture horrified them and brought them to listen it seemed to be fine.

"As of today, I am your commander and you will obey my orders as long as Viktor needs me to speak for him, understood?!" As soon as he had everyone's attention and before someone could start complaining, he started to bark his commands. "Georgi and Kenji, you both try to find any evidence on the shooter, look if he's still around!"

He didn't know everyone yet, he simply couldn't remember all names at once, but he didn't have the time to care right now.

He ordered someone to appoint a doctor to the Nikiforov mansion, someone else was told to get a car ready immediately. Others were to keep everyone from leaving, before they were registered. He made sure it was Dima, one of his trusted bodyguards slash drivers, who'd carry Viktor to the car and get him into it without causing any further damage. Mila was crying while she pressed Yūri's jacket against the gaping hole in Viktor's chest. He hadn't dared to look closer, maybe it'd only hit him in the shoulder.

He was glad Yura hadn't been here, because he wouldn't have had the nerve to deal with him right now too.

"Mila, make sure, he gets to the doctor as soon as possible. He can't die." Mila simply nodded. They both didn't trust each other, but at times like these, they simply had to rely on the other no matter if they liked it or not. Yūri didn't want them to split up, but he had to keep the situation under control and couldn't afford to accompany Viktor and Mila.

"Someone has to call the cleaners. They need to tidy up everything tomorrow, after Georgi and Kenji finished investigating." Yūri made sure to observe every action taken. He made sure the hookers and dealers left the place after the bodyguards had checked them thoroughly. The club was closed and after a while only the bratskaya semyorka was left as well as the manager of the bar.

Kenji and Georgi couldn't find any evidence nor the shooter him- or herself. Once again, the only evidence left was a bullet, which was still in Viktor's body, but this time the shooter hadn't missed his target. Someone was after Viktor's life and they had to find this threat as soon as possible.
"Thank you all for your competent help. You're dismissed for today. I want everyone back in the Nikiforov mansion tomorrow at noon." Yūri didn't bother to wait for their responses and simply started to leave, followed by Kenji and a depressed Georgi. "Spokoynoy nochi."

"Is this the same guy we met earlier?"

"How dare he grab the scepter like that?!"

"That's his job as of today."

"Never ever will he be our commander-in-chief."

"Why did you even listen to what he said?"

"What should we have done? If Viktor survives he'd kill us if he ever heard, we disobeyed."

"Let's see how he keeps up. I'm sure he'll fail under pressure."

"He'll make a fool out of himself."

"Shut up. We can't do anything against him."

"We could hire an assassin for h-…"

As soon as Yūri had returned to the mansion, he made sure that the doctor had arrived as well and had started treating Viktor. The mansion had some rooms reserved for medical reasons. This wasn't unheard of in the underworld. There was no way for a gangster to be treated in a normal hospital like any other patient. It would raise too much questions and doctors were often quick to call the cops. They could be bribed too, but it was still too dangerous, since there were too many possible witnesses. One of the underground doctors the Nikiforovs used to engaged was already operating. Yakov was sitting in front of the medical room in the cellar and groaned as soon as he saw Yūri descending the stairs. There was a second seat on the other side of the door.

"How is he doing?" Yūri asked the elder mobster and tried to keep up his emotionless expression. He hadn't the time to let go of his charade yet. He wasn't sure if Yakov would even answer him. He didn't seem to like him at all.

"One of his lungs was hit and he had problems with breathing. But his heart wasn't, so he should make it. The doctor sounded optimistic." Yakov looked up at him. "Mila told me you handled the situation quite well. After shooting the ceiling."

A small grin appeared on Yūri's face. "I know how to make people listen, even if they don't want to. Did you inform his brother?"

Yakov was shaking his head and sighing again. "He wasn't in his room when Mila arrived with Viktor and we couldn't reach him on his mobile. I sent her after him. If someone knows where he could be it is Mila." He'd have the ungrateful task to look after the brat from now on and didn't seem to keen on it.

"Can you call Mila for me? I want to talk to her, don't have her number yet."

Yakov didn't answer him, he simply fished his phone from his pocket, speed dialed her number and handed it to Yūri. He didn't have to wait long for her to pick up.

He heard her yell something in Russian.

"English please, Mila." He told her, but he guessed that she hadn't found him yet.

"Oh, it's you. Have to give you my number sooner or later I guess." She told him in English now. "I'm looking for Yuratchka but haven't found him yet. He has some hiding spots all over the city, haven't stopped by at all yet."

"Okay. When you get here, I want to talk to him first. Tell him that his brother is in the E.R. and that he needs to keep a calm head, even if that's a very hard task for him."

He heard Mila laugh on the other end of the line. "You know him so well already. Will do, commander. However, I can't promise he'll listen."

"That's alright. Report back to Yakov as soon as you have news. He'll call you, as soon as we know more about Vitya's condition." Yūri ended the call and handed the phone back to its owner.

Then he sat down on the free chair and let his head sink a little.

"You're doing better than I'd predicted so far." Maybe Yakov would like him someday, if he started trusting him. He didn't seem as unhappy with him as before.
All Yūri could respond to that was a shallow laugh though. He was used to being underestimated, but this fact didn't help him at all right now.
"I can take over, if it's to much for you." Yakov offered. He was surprised by Yūri's response.
The Japanese's head shot up instantly and Yakov found the younger male glaring at him. "Don't you ever offer such a ridiculous thing one again. I may be young. I may be a foreigner, but your leader made me his second in command. Not because he loves me, but because he trusts me and my abilities."

Yūri took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together.

Viktor was still under surgery when Mila returned with Yura. She had called beforehand and Yūri was prepared for the little Ice Tiger. At least as much as you could be prepared for an angry and angsty teenager. He wanted to storm past Yakov and him to get right to Viktor. It wasn't hard to stop him, but it hurt Yūri to see his little brother-in-law in pain.
"You can't go in there now, Yura. The room has to stay sterile for the surgery." Yūri told him and urged him to sit down. "Can the two of you leave us alone for a few minutes? We've got to talk."

"No, we don't, four-eyes!" But Mila and Yakov were already leaving. "And stop calling me Yura already! That's not my name."

Yūri ignored his objections. "He'll be alright. The doctor came out for a few moments some time ago and told us, that he'll survive. It might take some time until he wakes up, but he'll be as good as new soon." Yūri started to explain the situation. As soon as Yuri seemed to be reassured a little, he added: "You're his brother and I want you to support me until he's back on track."

"Why should I do that? I don't care about you or this damn organization. Vitya, is the only one I c-…"

"I know and that's exactly why you'll help me. Vitya wanted me as his second in command. Not Yakov. Not Mila. Not yet you. He chose me for the time being." Yūri looked at his namesake. "I want your leap of faith. I'll do my best to lead the bratva as long as Vitya needs to recover, but I can't if not a single Russian mobster stands by my side."

"You're talking to the wrong person, four-eyes."

"Trust me, I am talking to the right person. I have no problem controlling Mila, Yakov, Georgi and the other people right around Vitya. You are next level shit. If you rebel against me the bratskaya semyorka will follow your example." Yura didn't know what to say. He was right. Maybe now wasn't the time to rebel, not if he wanted to stay in Vitya's favor. But if he wanted to get rid of the slant eyed bastard, now would be the time. But could he do that to Viktor right now? Rather not. "Don't do it for me or yourself. Do it for your brother. You don't have to decide now, just act on your decision tomorrow and make sure you won't regret it when Vitya wakes up." Before Yura could answer the older one yelled: "Yakov, Mila!"
As soon as the two appeared on the staircase, he told them about tomorrow's meeting with the bratskaya semyorka. He didn't go into any details, he probably needed the element of surprise tomorrow.

After some more time the doctor emerged from the medical room and once again reported to Yūri. When he had come out to inform them the first time, he wanted to talk to Yakov only, but as soon as Yūri had hinted, that he was in charge from now on, the doctor reported to him and only him.

"The surgery went well. I could treat Viktor's pneumothorax, extract the bullet and sewed him up. It could have been much worse, if you and your men hadn't reacted as fast as you did." He started and smiled positively. "He'll need a lot of rest. As soon as we settle him in his room I'll stop the sedation. It might take some time for him to wake up. Probably days. It's different for every patient and depends on way too many factors to describe right now. Make sure to get him a nurse to help him recover. Yakov knows where to get one."

"Okay, thank you. Make sure that you're available during the next days or maybe weeks."

After some more words were exchanged about payment, how they should look after Viktor until the nurse arrived and after they moved Viktor to his bedroom, the doctor left and promised to be always ready to serve the Nikiforov bratva.

They were standing in Viktor and now also Yūri's bedroom and watched the comatose pakhan. He seemed to sleep very peacefully, but Yūri couldn't forget the pained expression on his face when he had been bent over him back in that club.

"There's still blood in your hair, Aniki." Kenji said after a while. "You should get a shower and rest a little before you take on the whole bratskaya semyorka tomorrow."

"Maybe they'll bow faster when there's still blood in my hair." It was supposed to be a joke, but nobody laughed.
"We'll make sure nobody rebels against Vitya's wished" was what Yakov said to that.

Yūri shot him a side glance. "I'll see to that myself. I haven't played my trump card yet. I planned to keep it in my pocket a little longer, but exceptional situations require extraordinary solutions. You're all dismissed. We'll see each other tomorrow."

"Make sure to play your cards well. We've got no time for a civil war." Was all Yakov commented, before he left.

"Understood." Kenji answered and left the room, followed by Mila. Yura took another minute to say good night to Viktor and left then as well.

"Spokoynoy nochi, four-eyes."

As soon as the door was closed behind Yura, Yūri allowed himself to finally let go. He didn't know how he had been able to keep the tears from running so long, but as soon as he was alone, he couldn't stop them anymore. The young man sunk to his knees in front of his husband and sat beside him, crying. How could this have happened? Was it his fault? How could he stop this from happening again? Yūri wished himself back to Barcelona, before the first shooting had happened. They should have dropped off the radar and lived a happy life in the Caribbean, far away from the mafiya and the Yakuza. It were silly dreams and Yūri knew that, but he couldn't help dreaming them anyways.

After a while he dragged himself to the attached private bathroom and tried to get rid of Vitya's blood. He had washed his hands sometime between departing the club and arriving in front of the medical room, but his hair was still covered in dry blood, probably his clothes too. He didn't know how long he'd stood under the shower, but suddenly he found himself clothed in a bathrobe and lying beside Viktor. Yūri was exhausted but he couldn't close his eyes yet, simply had to keep his eyes on Viktor and watch his reduced breathing.

He'd thought he had more time to earn their trust. He'd thought he'd had some more time to gather more intel before he had to really act. He had planned to watch for a while. Observe before he'd have to make more enemies. Now his plans were all for naught. At least Vitya was still alive. He could keep going on as long as he was alive. Sooner or later Yūri drifted off into a restless slumber.

"What will he tell us today?"

"I am sure he'll try to seize more power."

"Maybe the pakhan is already dead."

"He can't be dead."

"But if he is, we'll follow the last one with Nikiforov blood, right?"

"Yuri Plisetsky is the last one standing."

"We'll do what Yuratchka tells us."

"No, we must support the eldest of the bratskaya semyorka."

"This is our chance to seize power."

Yūri heard the loud chatter. He had them gathered in the small dining room once again and sat behind the wall in a hidden chamber. Vitya had showed it to him just yesterday before the breakfast meeting. He'd let them wait a little longer. Yura sat beside him and seemed to listen to the Russian's gossiping. He was staring at the door that separated them from the little crowd and was wriggling on his seat. Yūri wasn't sure if he was nervous or simply exhausted from yesterday. Maybe it was the conversation outside that worried his young brother-in-law.

"Where is he?"

"He's letting us wait!"

"That slant eyed bastard!"

He could make out Yakovs voice between the other cries. "Keep quiet he'll show up as soon as he's ready. Don't forget, he's the commander-in-chief now, even if you don't like it."

"We can't let him have this position!"

"He's a dirty foreigner."

"Maybe he handled the situation well yesterday, but maybe he's the one at fault!"

"Why do you say that?"

"There wasn't an assassination attempt on our new pakhan in ages. Suddenly the slant eyed bastard appears and there have been two in a matter of days."

"Don't you dare speak of him like that!" Was this Georgi's voice?

"Shut the fuck up!"

"It would be best if we killed him right now."

"Where is the other Jap?"

"He's watching over Vitya together with Mila."

"Doesn't he trust us?"

"How can he mistrust us!?"

"Don't be silly… as if you're trusting him…"

Yuri winced beside the other Yūri and looked at him with worried eyes. He was glad he couldn't understand their ranting.

"Don't worry. No matter what they say, I don't give a flying fuck." Yūri said and answered the unasked question.

The blond Russian didn't know what to make out of the Japanese gangster. It was as if a different person sat beside him. He wasn't wearing his glasses today, maybe he swapped them for contacts. Even if his eyes were of a warm brown color, they looked at him coolly. He had long eyelashes and a cig between his lips. His pitch-black hair was neatly combed and slicked back. Like his look yesterday, but now more precisely. His wardrobe has changed as well. The mouse grey suit was gone, exchanged with a black, pine-striped three-piece suit. It hugged his slim figure perfectly and the holster with his Berretta was quite visible. He completed the look with a black pair of gloves, a blood red tie and a handkerchief of the same color. Beside him stood his Katana. Yura hadn't seen him with it yet and wasn't sure if it was clever to go out there with it, but he wouldn't tell him that. The Katana's handle was wrapped with black and red and golden material. It had a simple black guard and the blade was covered by a dark red sheath.
Yura was caught off guard when Yūri rose from his seat and attached his Katana to his belt. There it looked misplaced and perfect at the same time. The young Russian looked up to his new brother astonished and still didn't know what to make of him.

Was it really his appearance or rather his behavior that let him look like a completely different person?

A grim smile appeared on his stern face.
"I think they had enough time to chat without us, Yuri Plisetsky. I'm curios to see how you chose."

Katsuki Yūri was ready to go to war if he had to.


Ha! I uodated faster than you thought, right? :)
Next update is planned in approx. a week, I wrote most of the 8th chapter already, have to revise it and add a few things and the 9th chapter is outlined already as well. I am so happy that inspiration came back to me one again and I hope you still like my Mafia/Yakuza boys ;)
Have a nice weekend and leave some feedback if you can and want. It's really appreciated :)

~Bercelak