Disclaimer: I do not profit from this story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s); pictures and songs included.

Just to be clear, GE is an alternate universe type work, considering Izuna died young in the original story line.

I made a promise to him, didn't I? To go back on it now would make me a liar, and I'd rather not listen to him cry about it later. Displeased, a woman in sparkling gold and white fabric drummed her finger against the table top and aimed a deep scowl at said man. His lively, brown eyes met hers, urging her on. It was time to act, she could almost hear him say. This angered her even more. Not like she wasn't going to. But does it have to be so … embarrassing. She huffed a sigh and tensely lifted a finger into the air. "If I may, there is another that I wish to nominate."

She was accredited without appall. Standing, the stiff woman cleared her throat and spoke with self-control as she had practiced earlier on. "I, Kururi of the Uzumaki clan, wish to nominate Uchiha Madara as a candidate for the position of Hokage." Already she could feel heat spread to her pale face.

An elder of the Shimura clan scoffed, forcing Kururi to crinkle her nose in disgust; a look that didn't suit her. "Preposterous is such a claim." He laughed in spite of her. "A member of the Uchiha as leader of our peaceful village. Have you gone daft girl?"

Hashirama stood to her aid. "Allow her a chance to speak. She means no ill intentions by doing so." If he had known that she'd have to undergo such mockery, Hashirama would have never asked Kururi to do this.

"Might I remind the council that it was because of the Uchiha that we almost didn't make it to this point," Shimura Tomohisa spat in revolt. "Should this be allowed, and Madara become Hokage, the village will be in ruin before it ever has a name." His eyes flared at Kururi. "Furthermore, young Uzumaki, as a member of an eminent clan such as your own, to waste a proposal on an Uchiha is unfortunate for your people."

The bright, red haired woman had to bite her tongue to refrain from chewing into him. If there was anything she took pride in, it was her clan. To hear the fool utter nonsense about them – especially about her – ticked her off.

Alas, she couldn't do much about it and practiced the deep breathing exorcises her sister taught her, not caring who saw. Once she was content, Kururi opened her painted lips to speak. "Times have changed, surely even you can see that. This village was established to unify clans; all of them. What hope does it have if even one of us has doubts about it's future? Might I remind you, Elder, that this village you adopted as your own was the dream of both Lord Hashirama of the Senju and Lord Madara of the Uchiha, and by such I believe Madara should have the chance to run as leader of the village too. It's his right after all; a respect that you should do well to give him for providing you this peaceful village."

"And furthermore," she continued. "It was by unfortunate events that I, as a woman, gained the title of Head of Clan. My father bestowed this title on me at his death bed in hopes that I could ensure the safety of the second branch. I fought like hell in that war to get here, and I am still standing. Believe it when I say that no matter who the leader is, I will keep his wish."

The room was silent. Having said all she needed to, Kururi pressed her kimono beneath her legs and sat down. She waited with baited breath for someone to speak, and when someone did, she was shocked to see the same, narrow-minded elder concur with her.

"Hashirama, your response."

"I honestly agree," he responded almost immediately. "Please allow both Madara and I to campaign for the title. It would be an honor." To stress his point, Hashirama dropped into a bow.

An elder of the Mitokado clan tapped his knuckles on the table, gaining the attention of the room. "Allow us time to debate this further. We shall have the answer in the morning. But, in the meantime … Hashirama … Madara … the two of you should sign a blank note in agreement to their nominations. Failure to do so will mean exclusion from the title."

"With the topic of Hokage underway," Tomohisa mentioned curtly. "Hashirama, you may take the floor. I believe you put in a proposal for adequate shinobi attire. The council will hear it."

Frankly, the red haired woman stopped listening after this. She had already heard the proposal once before. Though, it was the gentle laugh of Uzumaki Kirino that gained her attention.

"Something you feel like sharing with me?"

Her younger sibling pressed against her side and snickered again; her warm breath fanned across Kururi's ear as she whispered. "Not to concern you, but a lot of eyes are on you this morning, sister." Her fingers tugged in jest at the soft, red laces that fell down the Leader's back.

Kururi huffed a sigh and nudged her aside. "It can't be helped. The old man hates me, simple as that. A woman as Head of Clan is frowned upon in some nations apparently."

Agreeing with a nod, Kirino leaned in close again. "I seriously don't oppose your claim, but it's not the Elder that I am referring to." Her bright eyes flicked over to the person in question – sure enough he was still gawking. "Look to your left, seated across the table from us."

Kururi didn't have to look in order to know who Kirino was talking about – Madara. She witnessed him come in and sit next to Hashirama before the meeting began. What she didn't know was why he was interested in her; it concerned her a little.

"I'm jealous," Kirino chided with a pout.

Kururi rolled her eyes. "It means nothing. Madara is not one to court, so don't gibber on it."

"He's a male … he has needs. If he's staring at you, Chieftain, then his interest in you is more than nothing."

"You can tell that just from looking?"

Kirino laughed again. Her sister's pale face was red with embarrassment. "No … I just simply know men a little better than you do."

"Wench," Kururi snorted. She gave Kirino a playful glare, urging the woman to stick out her tongue in retaliation.

"Uzumaki Kururi," the annoyed voice of Tomohisa snapped. "Is there something the second branch would like to augment to the proposal?"

Kururi matched the scowl on his worn and wrinkled face. "We have nothing further to say."

The meeting seemed to drag on after this, extending further on into the afternoon than Kururi would have liked. By the time it was over, she was beyond irritated, wanting nothing more than to go home and rest. However, with business left unfinished, she couldn't.

"Shall I be expecting you back at the compound within the hour?"

"Yes … defiantly yes." Kururi held back a yawn and clutched the blank note in her hand; it was a responsibility she didn't want to deal with right now, but she had to. Looking up at her sister, she forced a smile. "Please have Atsuko prepare me a late lunch in the meantime. I'll be home once I talk with Hashirama about this annotation on the rock face."

Kirino lowered her eyes. "Very well, but I'm advising you not to forget your duties to the clan. It was you who after all nominated Madara-sama. The blame will fall on your head if the safety of the clan is not ensured."

"If this is your way of telling me to keep the note then don't concern yourself about it. I am the clan leader; I'll figure out something," Kururi retorted. Her eyes focused on the floor.

But, for the sake of the clan I know she's right. It would be simple; toss the blank note. Kururi heaved a sigh in defeat. "I made a promise to the cry baby that I'd see this through, and I plan to. Sorry, but I'll find another way."

"I trust you, sister. Just reassuring myself," Kirino admitted. She waved and turned on her balls of her feet, walking from the table and out of sight.

Kururi was left alone with her thoughts for a few minutes. All they did was serve to further her annoyance; she disliked the Elders and their old ways. Snorting in disgust, she began to chuckle. Her fingers moved to the bridge of her nose where she pinched hard to contain the fit of rage she felt breaking the surface of her usually peaceful nature. Those damn fools. None of this is ever going to work if they can't let go of their anger. Our clans will suffer … my clan will peri–

In shock of her own words, Kururi drew her fist and hit the table top with such a force that it shook her to the core. She hissed in pain, but lifted her arm, battering it again. The final time she went to do it, a familiar chakra signature flared nearby, making her shutter. Kururi puckered her brow and glanced around the room, noticing Madara and Izuna hadn't left yet. They seemed to be deep in conversation about something, until she lost her composure. In embarrassment, she turned her eyes to the floor and moved towards the exit.

Madara had somehow got in front of her – probably while Kururi was adjusting her setta sandals – as Izuna took up the back. Her blue eyes sized up the man leading; an intimidating man if seen up close. The woman shuttered again and tucked her slender arms against herself. It was strange to feel her heart pound so loudly in her chest, almost like being so close to Madara again was making her feel nervous. Kururi ignored it and spared a questioning glance at Izuna, who merely smiled. Frankly, the action made her skin crawl, but she smiled back regardless.

Without sudden warning, however, Madara halted before the doorway. Kururi peddled back to avoid colliding into him, an action that left her flustered against the chest of his younger brother.

"My apologies Izuna. I'm very sorry." Her words met deaf ears.

Izuna took her shoulders and kept her locked against him. "Be still now." His warm breath fanned out against her skin.

Kururi felt abnormally scared; an icy chakra encased her. What's this wickedness? She panicked, but her legs refused to move. It felt like her limbs were stuck in molasses. Is this a Genjutsu? "S-Stop this. Whatever you have done to me, remove it." Her voice cracked a bit, yet it still held a bite.

"She bares fangs against us." Izuna chuckled at this – how cute. It was the first time he had ever felt her chakra waver so much. The sway his brother had on her was impressive. He slid his arms over her shoulders. The woman quietly told him to stop, but he ignored her command and took the ornate hair sticks from her bun, allowing her braids to come loose and fall down her back. Frankly, Izuna wasn't sure why she wore her hair in such a way – it seemed childish to him – but her younger sister wore them too, in a much simpler design; in tails down the front of her shoulders.

Kururi felt her blood begin to simmer. She was not in the mood to repeat herself. If this wasn't an illusion, then it was simply a product of overwhelming chakra. Forcing herself to calm down, Kururi increased her own and released her body from the invisible restraints that locked her down. Without a second thought, she curled her fingers and struck at him with her nails drawn.

However, long before she made contact, Madara stopped her, and yanked Kururi towards him. A frightened cry escaped her lips. He took her against him and clutched her arms tightly.

"I don't think it would be wise for you to do that again," he spoke firmly. His voice was deep and cold.

Again, the woman froze up, too afraid to move. Her body felt heavy as stone, descending into the depths of his blood, red eyes. By some means, Kururi found her voice. "I'm sorry Madara. I wasn't considering the repercussions. Let me go."

He pulled her closer and smoothly declared, "I can sense your chakra trembling."

"I'm scared of how strange you're acting right now. This chakra around you is enveloping me," Kururi admitted.

"Feels sickly sweet, doesn't it?" Madara closed the gap between them and placed his lips over her own. The first thing he noticed was how warm she felt; her heat was comforting. The second, satisfied him. Kururi was shaken, but gradually pressed her mouth harder against his. It wasn't difficult to loosen her lips enough to slip his tongue in. She allowed him with a content sigh. Like he remembered, Kururi tasted delightful.

This wasn't the first time Madara had kissed her; the first time was as young adults on the battlefield. She wasn't so willing to taste him back then, and even less willing to speak to him after he bit her shoulder and sucked in her chakra. He was aware of her strange skill, and oddly found her taste to be somewhat welcoming. It was amusing to see how much she pined for him, now that war and death was in the past. Madara always felt Kururi held a strange attraction to him; she turned red whenever he addressed her and often shied away from his touch. Frankly, it was no surprise to him how easy she was to control once his mouth was on hers.

Bringing her closer, Madara all but gently pressed her tiny body against his own. Kururi let out a whine in protest and stiffened up, but he ignored it, releasing one of her arms to bury his fingers into her long, interwoven hair. With a quick tug, he angled her head to his liking and sank further into the kiss. His tongue overwhelmed her own, forcing her to keep up.

Kururi did pretty well in doing so, clutching his robes in haste to keep from toppling over. She sighed through her nose. This wasn't so bad; a little strange. It brought chills to her body – a wave of excitement that tingled in the pit of her stomach. Lost in the pleasure of it, she barely knew Izuna was still behind her until she felt a sharp pain in her neck. It could have only been him, because Madara was too engaged with her tongue and lips to care. However, the second she cried out in discomfort as the pressure grew, she knew Madara was only acting as a distraction for whatever Izuna was trying to do. It didn't take her long to figure out what, as her body began to feel heavy with exhaustion.

Izuna was sucking out her chakra. Her eyes flew open wide in panic and she began to resist. Kururi bucked forward with her hips, but with Madara in front of her, all she managed to do was pull a delightful moan from him. In another reality, she might have enjoyed this – succumbing to whatever pleasure Madara would give her – but this was not the case. With all her strength, Kururi parted from the man in front of her, breaking the threadlike line of saliva that connected them, and shoved her elbow into Izuna, knocking him off her. She peddled back until she was a respectable distance away from them and panted in exhaustion.

"Why did you bite me, Izuna?"

Said man ignored her question and touched his lips. "Is this what you meant by unique, brother?"

"It's a forte of hers," Madara began. "A skill only known by members of her clan; the ability to heal through consumption of chakra."

Kururi curled her nose in disgust. True to his claim, she was already starting to recover, but slowly. "Are you serious? All this – she was referring to the kiss – just to … to–

"Flavor your chakra," Izuna finished. He bobbed his head in agreement. The sad truth was he simply grew curious. "But then, I can't speak for my brother."

This took her off guard. Kururi wanted to ask what he meant, but a warm, earthy feeling suddenly enveloped her. She glanced at the door just as Hashirama entered. The wicked chakra from before was immediately oppressed.

"Hashi … what are you doing here?"

The cheerful man smiled at her. "I didn't see you leave yet, so I came back to check on you." Frankly, she looked pale to him. It concerned him, but sure that he already knew the reason, he didn't ask. For a brief second his smile faded as he turned to Madara.

"Is everything okay, old friend?"

Madara bobbed his head. "No cause for alarm. Though someone does look a bit tired."

"Nothing escapes you," Kururi jested with a laugh. "Please forgive me, Hashi … but I'll be heading back to the compound for a rest."

"Another time then," Hashirama mentioned, referring to their talk. He watched her leave the room quickly, and shot a brief look at his dark haired friend.

Madara was grinning, and honestly, it concerned Hashirama.

Chapter 2 preview:

"Besides, it feels odd. It reminds me of drowning. Fighting to resurface but I can't. The current only pulls me further along."

"Would it be so bad to just let go?"