Dawn Breaks Under a Veil of Stars
He sees it from across the field, Izuna falling, the Senju Demon pausing above him sword poised to- drop?
The Senju dropping to his knees over his greatest detractor and foe, hands lighting green, healing the wound he just wrought.
Izuna, furyfearmadness on his face as he lifts with an arm shaking from effort the sword still in his hand, and sinks it home in his healer's chest.
Tobirama, gaze flickering to the weapon being raised against him, resignationexhaustion in his eyes, even as he turns them back to healing, only a bare flinch as the blade sinks in through a gap in his armor giving evidence of his pain.
Madara gets there just in time, his sharingan seeing that Tobirama is about to disengage in such a way (the only way possible to do so without assistance) that will tear a greater wound in his chest, but as the green light of healing fades, and Tobirama's muscles bunch, Madara catches him, pulling him quickly away so that Izuna's sword has no chance to widen the cut (less of a chance of dishonorably murdering one who had aided him in a battle which should have named them foes).
He is about to set the Senju aside, sure that Hashirama will look after him, when his eyes catch on the shocked red eyes that are meeting his for the first time.
For that moment the world stands still.
As Madara meets those red red eyes for the first time-
it is as if his heart swells to fill his whole chest,
as if the Daybreak has come after a life in darkness,
exquisite pain and effervescent joy blending together in clamorous unity
until all he can seehearknowfeelsense is Tobirama.
And then the world around them returns briefly as Hashirama jostles them rushing passed without even a glance at his dying brother, instead going straight for Izuna with his healing hands, and Madara-
Madara with his whole world resettled with Tobirama as the Center, feels true despair crawling up from the pit of his stomach into his throat as blood beads up out of Tobirama's mouth. Tobirama, who he has only seen expressing anger, calculation, triumph, or frustration on the battlefield, looking at him with shockwonderlongingawe that is being eclipsed by agony.
His ears are ringing. He can’t hear himself desperately pleading with Tobirama not to die and leave him alone when he only just found him, can't feel his hand clamping over the gaping wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding at least on the outside. He doesn't notice the Senju kunoichi running towards them, Hikaku and Mikoto keeping pace just behind her, or Hashirama turning toward him, shock and joy warring on his face only to turn to guilt when he sees his brother's condition and Madara's reaction to it. His awareness is narrowed down to Tobirama in his arms, the rattle of his shallow breathing, the fading awareness in his eyes, the subtle shaking of his body as blood loss sets in. The agony on his face is joined momentarily by confusion and something fragile before strain and determination take over. Then Tobirama’s pale hand is reaching for him [but his hands are occupied stemming blood flow and holding his Center up and he cannot reach back], settling on his robe and gripping it weakly before he stills completely.
Madara panics and almost does something as foolish as shaking the other, but it only takes a fraction of a second for him to realize what Tobirama is doing as the lines on his face grow and new lines form in what Madara recognizes from Hashirama as gathering sage chakra. [He didn’t realize that Tobirama is also a Sage, he had never shown that skill anywhere anyone else could see and report it.] Tobirama’s eyes open to reveal catlike icy blue irises surrounding slit red pupils, and Madara nearly loses his breath at the feral beauty of his Center, would lose himself completely in those eyes if his mind weren’t still screaming that he was going to lose his Center when he has only just found him.
Tobirama’s gaze focuses, giving Madara a strained nod, and the rattling of his breath quiets, the hand not clinging to Madara’s robe comes up wreathed with white-green chakra and lays over where Madara is putting pressure on the wound and Madara feels it going through his hand knitting the flesh back together. He eases the pressure up, and when no new blood rushes out, he carefully eases his hand out from under Tobirama’s to allow him direct contact with what he is fixing.
When the light of healing chakra fades away and the sage markings mostly fade with it, Madara pulls Tobirama up into his arms, and Tobirama curls obligingly into him, tucking his head in under Madara's chin for as much contact as he can get in plate armor.
It is only after a moment curled together that Madara becomes aware of the outside world again. The distant sounds of battle, far enough away so as to not be caught up in the more destructive battles of their clan respective main lines, and an almost tangible hum of incredulity and shock in their vicinity. Madara looks up into the faces of his strongest kin and enemies, wondering at how they all could have come so close without his notice. (But it's not really a question is it. He was finding the Center of his world. Nothing is more important or worthy of his attention.)
The moment Hikaku and Izuna see his eyes they both gasp, Izuna pales. A true match then. Not that there was any doubt in his mind, but that his eyes have changed, allegedly now vibrantly purple around the edges of his sharingan, is just one more confirmation, proof for all to see that Tobirama is his, and will not be taken from him by any in his clan, lest they want to induce a madness the likes of which tales say can burn the world to ashes if one were strong enough.