Chapter Text
Madara sipped at his beer and rolled the liquid over his tongue. He didn't need to eat or drink, but he enjoyed the taste nonetheless.
"Man, this team is shit." Izuna's face expressed disapproval. "I cannot believe how much they suck."
"What do you care? You don't even support them." Madara kept his voice low, careful not to be overheard by the humans surrounding them. "This isn't your kind of game."
"I don't care about them." Izuna brushed off the implications that he'd care about a human ice hockey team. "I care about winning. And these guys are losing."
"Support the other side?" Madara raised an eyebrow even as the entire bar screamed in either jubilation or despair as one of the teams scored a goal.
"Can't." Izuna grimaced and one look at the losing team's uniforms told Madara exactly why.
Yes, the jagged streak of lightning they all wore would invoke Izuna, wouldn't it.
The problem with being a god was that faith - and symbols - affected them. How humans thought of them, about them... it changed and they changed with it.
Long gone were the days when Izuna's name was spoken with fear and reverence, he was barely known now, but his symbols were everywhere. There was a reason, after all, that they met in a sports bar. In this day and age, it was a centralised pool of faith, something that they could tap into and use for their own ends.
Madara raised his glass in a silent toast and drained it, before he turned towards the bartender and prepared to signal for another one, perhaps with some of those tasty potato slices to go with it. However his line of sight was blocked by a nut brown hand that waved cheerfully at him. "Hey, can I buy you a drink? Because you're so hot, you're practically a volcano."
Madara froze in shock at being so blatantly identified.
Had this person, whoever they were, no sense of discretion?
Izuna bristled next to him, glaring at the unwanted interloper. "Excuse me? What did you just say to my brother?"
"It was a compliment!" A sunny grin was directed at them and long brown hair was brushed away to reveal a strong boned face. "You're very handsome too, of course, but he's gorgeous. Baby, are you a mountain? Because I'd let you rock my world."
"Anija..." A white haired man with red facial tattoos, marked as if for battle like someone out of the far distant past, tried to pull the person accosting them away. "I'm sure they don't..."
"Give him a chance to respond, Tobirama!" A half drunk glass was pressed into Madara's hand. "He might like to play geologist! He can just stand there while I examine him with my hands."
The tattooed man, Tobirama it seemed, covered his face with his hands, muttering imprecations. Izuna paid no attention though and shoved himself between them. "That's enough! What is your name and who sent you?! Was it Mito? I bet it was her, witch that she is!"
"Anija." Tobirama grabbed on to the elbow of the man in Madara's space, exerting enough force to make him take a step backwards. "Your presence is clearly unwelcome. Come away."
"Yeah, leave us alone!" Izuna was practically sparking with agitation, and Madara placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Izuna. Enough." Madara took a deep breath, exhaling his panic. Even if they were identified, it wouldn't be the worst thing. Their enemies were few amongst the other gods and humans were no threat to them.
"Sorry, sorry!" The man retrieved his drink when Madara held it out to him. "My name is Hashirama and I'm really sorry! I didn't mean to freak you out! Are you okay? I hope I didn't say anything wrong!"
"It's fine." Madara waved Hashirama's babble away. "I've just had some bad experiences with being hit on in a bar and my brother Izuna is overprotective."
"Then Anija is very sorry, and I tender my apologies as well." Tobirama addressed them for the first time. "We won't bother the two of you any more."
"Absolutely!" A card with writing on it was pressed into Izuna's hand, and his brother glared at it almost hard enough to set it afire. “Here's my number and call me any time! You're so hot you're practically lava and I'd be thrilled to date you, but only if you want to! Bye!"
Hashirama suffered himself to be dragged off, still waving and talking, but the words were lost in the noise of the bar.
"This is Mito's doing, I'm sure of it!" Izuna crumpled the card into a ball and Madara rescued it before it could go up in flames.
"Izuna. If this is some sort of trap, that card is our only link to investigate it. If it's a coincidence, then a single meeting will prove it." Izuna looked at him with concern but Madara ignored it. "I'll just... make the call."
