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"Izuna!" Madara's head snaps around, turning away from him, and Hashirama immediately sees why.
Izuna coughs up blood, spitted on Tobirama's sword, and Hashirama feels his heart stop.
No.
Not Izuna.
They've never touched hands, never spoken a word to each other, but Hashirama doesn't need any of those things to know who Izuna is to him, and he runs as if his feet have wings.
"Madara, please!" He babbles the words, knowing that it's now or never. "Please, let me heal him."
"Nii-san, no." Izuna chokes out the refusal, blood bubbling on his lips. "Don't let him touch me, you know what will happen..."
"I do," Madara's face hardens with resolve, but his wave is permission enough for Hashirama to place a hand that's already glowing green on Izuna's ribs. "And that's exactly why I do this."
The feel of their chakra, mingling together for the first time, makes Izuna arch up with a gasp, and Hashirama doubles over his fallen soulmate. He doesn't let it stop him though, pouring everything he has into it, health, healing, and his will for Izuna to live.
He knows why Tobirama did this - it's their duty, all of them, to die and kill for their clans, even the gods given matches to their souls - but Hashirama can't. He's never been able to, not from the moment when he first saw Izuna clash blades with Tobirama.
So, no, he'll heal Izuna, he'll take the condemnation of the elders in his own clan, and he'll build something new out of this.
Wood grows wild, after all, and Hashirama has never been able to be anything other than himself.