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Wednesday night Bingo. No one was safe on Wednesday nights at the Konoha Bingo Hall (really just the rec center with some tinsel and streamers, but don't tell anybody that). The staff walked around with tense shoulders. Even staff from the various nursing homes, assisted living facilities, and rehabilitation centers who brought their clients out learned to fear a Wednesday night shift.
It went a little something like this: Naruto and Sasuke would drop their elderly relatives off here Wednesday nights when it should be their turn to watch them, and drive away into the sunset for a lovely date. Leaving several of their friends to fight for their lives in the hall against the combined forces of Madara, Menace of the Bingo Hall and his husband Hashirama, Great Enabler of the Menace.
"Oh, honey, I think you missed one~" Hashirama sing-songed. Sakura narrowed her eyes. She'd been assigned there as part of her observation at the rehabilitation center, and she was staring down Ino, who worked in the recreation department of one of the local nursing homes and had conveniently neglected to warn Sakura about Wednesdays. She thrived in the chaos, and she especially enjoyed watching Sai, currently both her underling at the nursing home and beard, run around in his tight scrubs flirting with the male nurses and somehow coming across as completely unbothered by the madness while everyone stared at the engagement ring the very same Sai had placed on her finger. Tenten desperately tried not to be noticed- she was just staffing the rec center part-time while she focused on her judo career, she was only there to make sure nothing got broken and no one got hurt- but she always ended up involved. Sometimes Kiba and Lee were also there as rec center employees: they'd learned to deploy extra employees to wrangle the Wednesday night carnage. And they all hated Naruto and Sasuke's guts for dumping their relatives there every week.
Like clockwork, plastic chairs and tables replaced the metal ones at 6:35pm on the dot. By 6:45pm, the snacks had been locked in the kitchen and all the decorative lanterns replaced by battery-operated candles. By 6:54pm, the laminated Bingo cards were on the tables: the paper ones with chips or wooden ones with little balls were banned. Permanently. The doors opened at 6:55pm, allowing other participants a chance to get in and settle a little. Brace themselves. The staff were certainly bracing themselves, at least. By 6:56pm, they would hear the distance sky trumpets of the orchestra music Madara bullied Naruto into playing as loudly as possible for them in the car. He pretended to enthusiastically conduct while smacking Naruto in the head at any given opportunity until Sasuke got annoyed and snapped at him.
(Even Madara, harbinger of doom, knows better than to distract the driver, and you should, too. Drive safely kids.)
6:58pm. The witching hour. The car would roll to a stop in the driveway. Mercy be to any soul within a forty foot radius of that stereo system. Sakura made a mental note to scream at Kiba for installing that again later. Right now his tail was tucked between his legs, shaking. He was new to this, but the fear would become numbness soon enough.
6:59pm. They hear the footsteps and scraping on concrete. They hear the telltale THWACK of a cane against the metal door, intentionally hard specifically to announce his presence in as obnoxious a way as possible, and the encouraging half-muffled giggle of Hashirama on his arm. And then the doors would burst open because Madara still insisted on kicking them in dramatically instead of just opening them like a reasonable human being, and he would yell something unintelligible, extremely enthusiastic, and absolutely terrifying. And the reason it wasn't comprehensible? Hashirama would already be laughing uproariously, having apparently read Madara's mind and filled in the joke before he even got to the punch line aloud.
7:00pm. Perfectly on time, perfectly regimented "as a good Uchiha should be" Madara had said once. So much emphasis on discipline and control, just to turn around and-
"Hashi says Bingo!" Madara roared, slamming his hand against the table so hard the whole thing rattled against the floor. Kiba kept pretending he wasn't on the verge of a coronary every time it happened. Hashirama always played for Madara, as he was the seeing partner and Madara didn't know Braille, but didn't actually care about Bingo. In fact, he seemed to have never learned the rules of the game. Hashirama frequently called Bingo whenever his heart desired, completely unaware of how the game worked. Madara's reaction was the same every single time: "Hashi says Bingo!" in the loudest, most excited, most frightening voice he could muster. Ninety-seven years old and blind as a bat, but still striking terror into the hearts of everyone around him. Completely on purpose. He lived for two things: Hashirama, and wreaking havoc.
"Alright, Mr. Uchiha. Please let me check."
There were two options from here. If Hashirama got a lucky guess in, they would actually have Bingo and Madara would go on a power trip about winning a prize. More likely was the second option, in which they did not actually have Bingo and-
"ARE YOU CALLING MY HUSBAND A LIAR?!"
Anger. Anger was the second option. And the worst part was that, in Madara's belief, this was an earnest, righteous fury as he championed for his husband's honor. It was an unquestionable declaration of love. This was because Madara seemed to truly believe in Medieval-style chivalry and applied to the present as accurately as possible, no matter what. He'd knock his cane against the floor at just the right angle that it would make a deafeningly loud noise as the cap at the end came off and the reinforced metal core of it was revealed. Because of course he had what was essentially a weapon for a walking cane. This was Madara Uchiha, after all.
"HAVE AT THEE, FUCKWAD!"
How Hashirama always talked his way out of trouble was beyond the staff. More often than not, they walked away from their interactions with glazed looks in their eyes, claiming they had to have been Jedi mind-tricked or something. Ino swore as she rubbed at the bump on her forehead. They would resume the game, and the cycle would repeat itself over and over and over again until they won or Madara got so crazed they had to call Naruto and Sasuke to come get them early. The rest of Bingo usually disbanded at that point too, because as annoyed by it as many were, they enjoyed the dramatics just as much. Many clients had commented it was the most entertaining part of their weekly routine, and that was the only reason they kept Bingo going. If they tried to stop it, there'd be an outcry. Their hands were tied.
Today the pair managed to win a few rounds. They wondered if Hashirama was too tired or distracted to play as dumb as he usually did today, or if he'd finally gotten the rules to stick. They made it the entire two hours. When the silent clock on the wall struck 8pm exactly, every staff member in the building's phones vibrated at once. They ushered everyone out as quickly as possible while still adhering to safety guidelines. They took turns taking watch, making sure Hashirama and Madara were in the car and long gone before they let their guard down.
Everyone knew they'd be back next week to reprise the scene anew. And they knew that when given the choice, Madara would continue to take the way that was most explosive and interesting to him, and Hashirama would choose to keep encouraging his antics. They wondered if they'd get used to it and succumb to their magnetic melodramatics, or have to take even more drastic precautions to play damage control. No one knew the answer. They only knew that Madara, Menace of the Konoha Bingo Hall would return to stake his claim on this territory again, and that Hashirama, Great Enabler of the Menace would be there to cheer him on just as many times.
Removed from the chaotic context, their devotion to each other was admirable. Everyone supposed that was what charmed them into going along with Hashirama and Madara for the most part: they were loyal to each other above all else. Madara never doubted Hashirama's calls. Hashirama never stayed Madara's hand. They trusted each other to make the right decisions to an absolute fault.
If that wasn't redeeming, what was?