.

Don't think, don't talk,
But I don't think I want to

'Cause you give me the electric twist
and it kicks like, kicks like, a pony
And true, you might get away with it

It's a risk, it's a risk, yeah.

The next morning, Mito awoke to the sun brightly streaming in her window and birds happily chirping in the plum tree outside. For a moment, she just laid there with her eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of basking in the sun. She felt well-rested and… owwww! She winced as she stretched, and pulled aside her robe to see a large bruise forming on her ribcage.

At the sight of that, she realized she felt rested because she had actually needed the rest. Because she'd actually exerted herself for the first time since she'd arrived in Konoha. Because she'd been… crazy, was that the word? Yes, totally and completely crazy, she assured herself. She'd sparred with Uchiha Madara. Shaking her head, Mito reviewed the other events of the evening, a look of disgust on her face when she remembered her fiancé's mandate. She sighed, and went to put her head in her hands… crap! Her hands were still filthy, and there was dirt caked under her nails. She scrambled over to her vanity, not imagining that her face looked much better.

She was right. Good thing she had come in through her garden door the night before, because her appearance was sure to raise some questions that she didn't feel like answering. She was going to have to sneak back out of her room to take a bath before anyone saw her in this state.

With a sigh, Mito slid out the back door, making her way to the bath as quickly as possible.

Once she'd hurriedly washed off the incriminating dirt and grime, Mito decided that she deserved a nice, long soak. Now that she'd released most of her anger about the situation, she could think about the situation a little more rationally.

Sinking further down into the hot water, she made a conscious effort to relax her sore muscles and take deep breaths as she settled in.

First things first… I can't oppose Hashirama on the matter. He's given it a lot of thought and… maybe he's right. It went completely against the grain for her, but Mito knew that given the type of life she was slated to live, it made sense. She'd be the wife of a clan leader, a prominent man in the village, and everyone expected her to be a support for him. Despite the strength of the clans that made up Konoha, it was still a fledgling village. It needed Hashirama. And apparently, what he needed was wife who led a stable, civilian lifestyle.

Letting her head fall back against the rock behind her, she contemplated the duties she could look forward to… and unfortunately, she couldn't come up with many. Other than taking care of her husband and having heirs for him, what was she supposed to do? Sit around twiddling her thumbs? Wasting her skills as a kunoichi? I guess so, she thought resignedly. I'll just have to come up with some things to occupy myself. But I'm not going to let myself get rusty! Even if I can't be a ninja, I can still train! I'll do it in secret if I have to.

With that determination made, her thoughts drifted back to the other events of the previous night, namely her encounter with Madara. It had been a rush, sparring with him. He was quicker than anyone she'd seen, and she saw his eyes light with appreciation when he realized that she was talented in her own right. It was… exciting, she thought with a grin. I wonder if he'd be willing to let me fight him again. But after I thanked him… it felt he was being a little...weird? Like he was trying to see right into my soul, or something, she pondered. Maybe I was just imagining it. After all, I don't even know him. But still…

Her thoughts were interrupted by a group of women coming into the bath, happily chatting away. "Oh, Mito-hime! This is where you were!"

She instantly recognized the voice of one of her other assigned ladies, Yuka. Mito begrudgingly opened her eyes, knowing that her alone time was decidedly over.

As they entered the bath, Reiko came right up to her and looked her over. "You look tired, Mito-hime," she began concernedly, "…maybe because you didn't return from your alone time with your handsome fiancée until the middle of the night?" By the end of her question, she wore a wicked grin, making her intent clear.

At the scandalous implication, Mito felt her cheeks color. "Nothing inappropriate happened, Reiko-san!" she answered with a bit of indignation.

Reiko just threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, Mito-hime. Don't be so serious. I was only joking," she said. She leaned in closer so the rest of the girls wouldn't be able to hear her and continued in a conspiratorial whisper, "Besides… if anything did happen, it's not like it would be wrong. He is your fiancé, after all." Winking, Reiko made her way to sit a little further down the wall.

Mito decided she'd had enough of bath time, and pulled herself out over the edge, grabbing for her towel when Yuka gasped and exclaimed, "Mito-hime! Your ribs! Are you okay?"

She cursed inwardly. She'd forgotten about the bruise. In a matter of seconds, the girls were crowded around, fussing over her like she was child. Irritated, Mito quickly dismissed them with, "It was just an accident. Don't worry. I'm fine."

Snatching her towel and resisting the urge to bang her head on the nearest wall, she hurriedly exited the bath and hoped they'd buy her bogus excuse.

As Mito threw her clothes on, she couldn't help but overhear Yuka through the thin door.

"I- I didn't mean to upset her… I've never heard Mito-hime speak like that before! Oh no…"

"Yuka, don't worry." This time it was Reiko's cheerful voice. "She's probably just upset that we are onto her about just how well she and Hashirama-dono were getting along last night!"

Some nervous laughter followed that, and soon they were once again giggling and talking as usual. Mito rolled her eyes, What typical girls. But it's probably better if they think that Hashirama was the one I stayed out with… and that we are getting along well. I'd rather have them thinking that I had a good time with my fiancée than them finding out the truth.

The truth … that she had been having a good time. Just not with the man they thought.

"Madara! Where are you?!"

The front door banged open, and even without the telltale familiarity of the greeting, Madara would have recognized his best friend's cheerful brashness in a heartbeat. Not to mention he'd sensed Hashirama's ridiculously huge chakra even when it was far from his doorstep.

Rolling his eyes, he made his way to the entryway, and Hashirama grabbed his arms and shook him a little, huge grin on his face. "Tonight! Dinner! You have to be there!"

"Okay, okay, Hashirama… what's going on?" he queried, extracting his arms from the Senju's grip.

"Well, since Mito arrived, she hasn't had much time to spend really getting to know anyone except for me the ladies I asked to help her…" at this, he donned a contemplative look. "I thought it would be good to get some people together so that she can start becoming closer to those in the village, and they to her. What do you think? Besides, I want to know what you think about her!"

"Hashirama… you know how I feel about these types of social events…" he began.

Immediately, Hashirama sank into one of his trademark sulking sessions, looking totally defeated. "Alright… if you can't spare a couple of hours for your best friend…" he trailed off meaningfully.

Madara decided to cave, just this once. Besides, he had to admit, spending some time in Mito's vicinity would most likely be interesting… after their midnight spar, he'd found himself wondering what other potential was lurking beneath the surface.

"Okay, okay... I'll come."

His depression vanishing as suddenly as it had appeared, Hashirama started elatedly describing all the reasons why the evening would be amazing – he was personally overseeing everything, and the daimyo would be there-

"But I'm only staying as long as absolutely necessary. No longer," Madara cut in, and his tone made it clear that this was not up for discussion.

"If you insist, Madara. But remember what I told you – I want you to be the Hokage, and it will be difficult without the backing of the Fire Country's officials. Just think about it," he said seriously. Returning to his excited demeanor, he continued, "Anyway! My place at 6:30 – don't be late!"

With that, he left to finish preparing for the evening. Madara shook his head, smiling a little at his friend's ridiculous antics. But thinking about what Hashirama had mentioned about the decision as far as who would be Hokage, the corners of his mouth turned down into a contemplative frown. He was probably right… Madara had no illusions about the general attitude regarding him, especially the one that Hashirama's own brother had. Though it wasn't as if he was any fonder of the silver-haired Senju.

Making his way back through the hallway, he shook off that train of thought. There were other things that were more interesting than Tobirama's disdain for him… like a certain kunoichi, and he found himself wondering which side of her would be present for dinner.

A few hours later, Mito was feeling more than a little overwhelmed. The dinner itself hadn't been that elaborate or eventful, but she felt like she was drowning in a sea of guests, formalities, and niceties. She'd felt a moment of panic when Hashirama had introduced her to Madara, wondering if he'd spilled the beans about their late-night sparring session. But evidently, he hadn't, and they "met" with perfect social graces.

Her relief about that was short-lived however, since one group after another were now introducing themselves and asking her a multitude of questions. Among the people questioning her at the moment was a particularly irritating man: Hideyoshi, the head of the Shimura clan.

"So, Uzumaki-san, what are your plans to contribute to this village once you and Senju-san are married? What can you bring to the table?" he asked, condescension evident in his voice.

And Mito had had it. Her patience had already been wearing thin, and she was on the verge of giving him a piece of her mind when she felt someone firmly place a hand on her arm.

She turned her head, her wide charcoal eyes meeting the profile of her fiancé. He was calm, but he wasted no time in answering Hideyoshi's question for her.

"Mito-san will be assisting with the academy, one of the most vital tasks to be cared for in our growing village," he said with a tight smile. "I'm sure you'll agree, Shimura-san, that caring for and educating our children are of the utmost importance, since our future and the future of our village will lie in their hands."

What? thought Mito. This is the first I've heard of it! But hey, if it shuts this crotchety old grump up… fine by me. Hmph.

That proved to be the case, as Hideyoshi was unable to respond with anything other than a quick assent. He excused himself to greet other guests, hurrying away much like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"Now if the rest of you will excuse us," Hashirama began amiably, "I'd like to have a few moments to myself with my fiancée." He grinned, "I'm sure you understand."

The others drifted off, and he used the hand he still had on Mito's arm to guide her to a dimly lit corner, somewhat secluded from the noise and guests by a sheer curtain. Against the wall behind the curtain was a plush divan. He motioned for her to sit down, and he sat as well.

Mito began feeling a little uncomfortable, since the position was reminiscent of the night before when he had kissed her. Despite his proximity, she trained her eyes on the ground. However, he made no move to do so again, instead only sliding his fingers down her arm to envelop her hand.

"Mito…" he began as he stroked her knuckles with his thumb. "Look at me."

When she made no move to do so, he grasped her chin and gently turned her face to his. For a few pregnant seconds, they just looked at each other; her expression a little puzzled, his completely serious.

"Mito…" he started again. His brow furrowed marginally as he continued, "I am very sorry. About Shimura-san. Are you alright?"

She found herself nodding jerkily, and he offered her a small smile, taking his fingers from her face and moving her free hand so that he was holding both of her hands in his own.

Mito broke the silence, "What you said to Shimura-san… about me helping with the academy… were you being serious?"

"Ah! I'm sorry if I surprised you," he said apologetically. "But I meant what I said. I have been thinking about what you might want to do now that we've decided you won't be an active ninja. So I thought you might be interested in imparting your knowledge to others. And it will be a good way for you to get to know the others in the village."

As she had watched him explain, a small smile grew on her face. He's really thought about this. I guess he doesn't think I'm useless… and he actually cares about me. Maybe he doesn't just view me as a political pawn or a weak woman. The thought was comforting. Although Hashirama still didn't know the depth of her unhappiness, he was still doing what he could to make her feel better.

"So, what do you think? Of course, if you don't want to, I underst-"

"I'd love to," Mito broke in. She looked up into the dark eyes of her fiancé, "Thank you."

She leaned her head on his shoulder and in that moment – with his strong, capable hands cradling hers and his broad shoulder under her cheek – she felt that maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

They sat there silently, the sounds of clinking glasses and conversation seeming so very distant, like it was another universe outside of the gauzy partition.

She felt Hashirama carefully turn his head to regard her, and as she gazed up at him, she thought maybe it wouldn't be so terrible if he kissed her again. His thoughts seemed to be traveling along the same lines as he angled his jaw, his lips now poised to capture hers.

Suddenly, their private world was invaded by the unmistakable noise of a raised voice. Hashirama sighed and rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. When he opened them, he brushed an errant piece of hair away from her face and began getting up.

"What is it?" Mito asked, curious who would concern him this much.

He sighed again, more exasperatedly than before, and said with mild irritation, "Tobirama."

At the moment, Madara was resisting the very strong urge to punch Tobirama right in his irritating, mouthy face. Clenching his fist, he could imagine just how the other man's bones would give way beneath it. He could practically hear the satisfying crunch of hand to nose or cheek or eye socket… or all three in succession, he fantasized.

However, rather than give in to his baser instincts, he remained leaning against the veranda's railing as nonchalantly as possible. He knew nothing would anger the younger Senju more than refusing to rise to the bait. And besides, judging from the redness on his cheekbones and the rank odor of his breath, Tobirama had had more than a little too much to drink.

"Uchiha…" Tobirama began, spitting the name like an expletive. "You n' I both know… you're no good. You'll never be as good as Hashi. Why'nt ya just admit it?" he slurred, poking Madara in the chest, the bottle dangling from his fingers bumping against it.

Madara just regarded him coolly, his facial expression somewhere between irritation, condescension, and pity. But Tobirama just kept going.

"You weren't good enough to protect your brothers. You weren't even strong enough to protect your precious Izuna from me!" he declared loudly. Proudly.

And that was a mistake. Madara was generally a patient man, but bringing his family into an argument never ended well. He started shaking, almost imperceptibly. And when he looked up at the Senju, his eyes were the deep red and black of the eternal mangekyo sharingan.

"Don't," he growled warningly, "make light of my brother's death."

Tobirama giggled ridiculously. "You should be happy, Uchiha," he said mockingly. "After all, if Izuna-kun hadn't died, you wouldn't have those nice eyes of yours, would you?"

Madara was about to show him exactly what his "nice eyes" could do when chakra flared around them, the sheer amount of it almost a physical pressure. Tobirama's eyes widened as he dropped his bottle and Madara turned to face the new arrival.

It didn't surprise him in slightest to see his best friend standing there, although Mito trailing behind him dutifully wasn't really what he was expecting. She seemed unsure what to do in the tense situation, and just hung back near the shoji, watching them a little apprehensively.

"Tobirama. Stop. That. Is. Enough." Hashirama stated decisively, the immense power radiating from him reminding his younger brother that this was not a request.

"Uh, Hashi… I'm sorry…" he began lamely.

"Enough!" Hashirama boomed.

Turning his attention to Madara, he simply said, "I'm sorry."

"I know," Madara replied evenly, his eyes twisting back into their usual shade of deep grey-black. He moved back to lean over the railing, having nothing else to say.

"Mito," he heard behind him, "Tobirama has had far too much to drink. I'd better get him back to his rooms now, before he makes an even bigger fool of himself. Will you be alright?"

"Ah… yes. Please don't worry about me. Just take care of Tobirama-san," a soft, feminine voice replied.

Madara heard Hashirama hoist his blubbering brother over his shoulder, and then a whispered, "Goodnight, Mito" and the telltale sound of lips on skin.

With that, Hashirama's impressive presence was gone, and small shuffling steps alerted him to the young woman coming toward him. She leaned next to him on the edge of the veranda, sleeve of her kimono brushing his bare arm.

He turned to look at her, and found her looking up at the night sky. The apples of her cheeks held a slight blush - no doubt from Hashirama's kiss – as she gazed up at the stars. She tore her eyes away to meet his, and said, "So."

"So," he repeated.

"That was… intense," she understated with a raised eyebrow.

"It was," Madara affirmed.

"Guess my brother-in-law to-be can't hold his liquor too well, huh?" Her mouth quirked up at one corner, and she turned back to look at the sky. "You know… if you want to talk about it… I'm here," she offered.

What was it about this girl's simple statements that left him feeling at a loss for words? Maybe it's because no one actually treats you this way, his thoughts suggested. No one speaks to you with such sincerity. And she hardly even knows you. He continued observing her, taking in the way the wind played with the loose strands of her hair and the shy smile on her lips.

When he didn't say anything, she turned back to him cheerfully. "Well. If you don't want to, that's fine too." Mito started back toward the house, but as she slid open the shoji, she paused, her hand still on the door. "But if you decide differently… I might just be near a certain lake later on tonight."

And then she was gone, this time being the one to leave him behind with his thoughts.

Contemplating her offer, he stared hard out at the dark as if it could give him a sign as to what he should do.

A/N: Wahhh! Thank you so much to everyone who has favorited/followed! I can't believe it :D

Meant to post this yesterday, but this exposition is tough for me. I am really eager to get to the really good angsty stuff haha :)

I know not a whole lot happened this chapter but(!) next chapter = serious talk-time!

Lyrics from Electric Twist by A Fine Frenzy.