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Hashirama keeps his hands on his new husband's shoulders, not gripping, just resting, a silent support.
Being allowed to stand at Madara's back like this is a privilege, and he doesn't take it for granted. Madara leans forward in the uncomfortable hospital chair, peering into Izuna's still face, looking for any change, any sign of improvement, but Hashirama says nothing.
There's nothing to say.
Coma patients don't really lie within his field of specialisation, and Izuna's chart didn't tell him anything that the official doctors didn't already say to Madara a hundred times, but his work isn't why he's here.
No, he's here so that Madara isn't alone.
And he'll stand here for as long as he needs to, shielding his friend however he can, because this is what Madara needs.
Because, for Madara, he'll do anything.
"Nii-san...?" It's a whisper, the faintest breath, and Izuna's fingers tremble in Madara's grip. "Nii-san."
"I'm here, Izuna." Madara reaches out, cupping his youngest brother's cheek. "I'm here for you."
"What... happened?" Eyelashes flutter, revealing dark eyes, and Izuna squints in the afternoon sun. "I'm in the hospital?"
"Yes, yes, you are." Hashirama lets go, stepping back, as Madara practically climbs up onto the hard hospital bed to hug the form that's been so still for weeks.
Izuna's not still any more though, and he lifts his arms up to wrap around Madara's shoulders. It's a beautiful sight, one Hashirama smiles to see, and he backs out of the room to give them privacy.
"You got married?!" A closed door can't hide everything though, and he grins when he hears a distinctive shriek. "Without me?!"
Yes, everything is going to be just fine.