Silent Heartbeats

The days blurred together in a haze of sterile white walls, muted voices, and the soft shuffle of feet in the hospital corridors. Sasuke sat in the small room, his gaze distant, his body still and tense. Every breath felt like a weight, pressing down on him, making it harder to think, harder to focus.

The hours were going as seconds , it's in the Morning ,Tsunade had given him the news—since she had told him that his pregnancy could not be terminated, no matter how much he wanted it to be. In the aftermath of her words, Sasuke had felt himself slip into a numb, dreamlike state. Everything seemed to pass by in slow motion, every sound muffled, every sensation dulled. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Couldn’t bring himself to move or respond.

Time had lost its meaning. Lunch came and went, brought in by the nurses, but he barely touched them. His body ached, his head throbbed, but he ignored it all. He didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to feel.

But Neji wouldn’t let him disappear.

Neji had been there every moment, a constant, silent presence by his side. He coaxed Sasuke to eat, his voice calm and patient, even when Sasuke pushed the food away.

“Sasuke.”

The voice was familiar—low, calm, steady. Neji. Sasuke didn’t turn his head. He didn’t respond. But Neji didn’t leave. He stayed, his gaze unwavering, watching Sasuke with a quiet patience that felt almost tangible.

“Sasuke,” Neji said again, his tone firmer this time. “You need to eat.”

The words seemed to echo in the silence, pulling Sasuke from the haze that clouded his mind. Slowly, almost mechanically, he blinked and looked down at the tray. The soup had cooled, the steam no longer rising in soft tendrils. He felt a strange, disconnected sense of detachment as he stared at it.

“I’m not hungry,” he murmured, his voice hollow.

Neji’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t press. Instead, he picked up the spoon and held it out, his gaze never leaving Sasuke’s face. “Eat anyway,” he said quietly. “You need to keep up your strength.”

Sasuke stared at him, a flicker of something like frustration breaking through the numbness. “Why does it matter?” he muttered. “Why should I—”

“Because it’s not just about you anymore,” Neji interrupted softly. His tone was gentle, but there was an edge of resolve beneath it. “You have a child to consider now.”

The words struck something deep inside Sasuke, a sharp, painful jolt that sent a shiver down his spine. He looked away, his jaw tightening. The child. He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to acknowledge the life growing inside him. But no matter how hard he tried to push it away, the truth remained.

He was carrying a child. And that child had a father.

The thought sent a wave of nausea crashing through him. He clenched his fists in the sheets, his nails digging into the fabric as he fought to keep his breathing steady.

Naruto.

He didn’t want to think about Naruto. He didn’t want to remember the way Naruto had looked at him—the warmth and affection in his gaze, the promises whispered in the quiet hours of the night. All of it felt tainted now, twisted and broken beyond repair. Naruto’s betrayal had shattered something inside him, something he wasn’t sure he could ever put back together.

But this child…this child was a part of him. A part of Naruto, too.

The realization hit him like a physical blow, knocking the air from his lungs. He felt trapped, caught in a web of emotions he couldn’t untangle. Anger, pain, confusion—each one twisted and intertwined, pulling him in different directions until he thought he might break.

“Sasuke.”

Neji’s voice was soft, drawing him back from the brink. He looked up, meeting Neji’s gaze, and for a moment, he saw something in those pale eyes that made his chest tighten. Understanding. Compassion. But also determination.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Neji murmured. “Just…take it one step at a time. Focus on taking care of yourself. The rest will come later.”

Sasuke swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wanted to argue, to push Neji away, but the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was stare at the other man, his heart pounding painfully in his chest.

Neji didn’t look away. He held Sasuke’s gaze steadily, his expression unwavering. And slowly, reluctantly, Sasuke found himself reaching for the spoon. He didn’t want to eat. The very thought of food made his stomach turn. But something in Neji’s gaze—something quiet and unyielding—kept him from pulling back.

He lifted the spoon to his lips and took a small, hesitant bite.

The taste was bland, almost flavorless. He forced himself to swallow, ignoring the way his stomach churned in protest. One bite. Another. Slowly, mechanically, he ate, his gaze focused on the tray in front of him.

Neji didn’t say anything more. He just stayed by Sasuke’s side, watching quietly as he ate. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the suffocating fog in Sasuke’s mind began to lift, just a little.

Neji answered the nurses when Sasuke couldn’t, reported Sasuke’s condition to Tsunade during her daily check-ups, and exchanged a few words with Kakashi when the Hokage dropped by to check on his former student.

Kakashi had come every day, his face an inscrutable mask as he stood by the door, watching Sasuke with a gaze that seemed to pierce through his fog. But it was Neji who answered the questions. It was Neji who stood by Sasuke’s side, his presence a quiet reassurance, even when Sasuke didn’t want it.
Neji made it a habit to ensure Sasuke ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner each day, his presence a constant reminder that he wouldn’t allow Sasuke to neglect his health.no matter how Sasuke resist .

And now, on the third night, Kakashi had left after a short visit, and the room was silent once more.

Sasuke sat in the bed, his hands clenched around the thin hospital blanket, his gaze fixed on a point just beyond the window. He hadn’t spoken more than a few words to anyone in days. Even now, his throat felt tight, his chest heavy with a weight he didn’t know how to lift.

He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to face the reality that had been forced upon him.

A child.

His child.

The very thought sent a shudder through him, his stomach twisting painfully. How was this even possible? How could he—a man, a warrior—be pregnant? It was absurd. Wrong. Orochimaru’s doing, he knew, but that didn’t make it any less horrifying.

And yet…

The child was real. A living, breathing part of him. His blood, his legacy.

His burden.

“What am I supposed to do?” he whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness.

The sound startled even him. It was the first thing he had said in hours—maybe even days. His throat felt raw, the words jagged and broken.

Neji, who had been sitting quietly in the chair beside the bed, looked up, his gaze sharp and intent. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, just waited, his presence steady and patient.

“What am I supposed to do?” Sasuke repeated, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. He turned to look at Neji, his eyes dark and haunted. “How am I supposed to be a father?”

Neji’s expression softened, a flicker of something like understanding crossing his face. He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees as he met Sasuke’s gaze.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said quietly. “One step at a time.”

Sasuke let out a harsh, humorless laugh. “Figure it out? How? I don’t know anything about children. I don’t even know if I want this…this thing.”

He spat the word like a curse, his hands trembling as he clenched the blanket tighter. The anger surged up, hot and bitter, but beneath it, there was something else—something darker. Fear. Uncertainty.

“How am I supposed to be a father when I can barely take care of myself?” he demanded, his voice rising. “What kind of father would I even be? My clan—my entire family—is gone. I’m the last Uchiha. A traitor. What kind of life can I offer a child?”

Neji was silent for a moment, his gaze steady and thoughtful. When he spoke, his voice was low, but firm. “You’re more than your past, Sasuke. More than the mistakes you’ve made.”

Sasuke flinched, his chest tightening. “Am I?” he muttered. “Everyone still sees me as a traitor. Even now. They tolerate me, but they’ll never trust me. Never accept me.”

“Some might not,” Neji acknowledged. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t build something new. It doesn’t mean you can’t be more.”

Sasuke looked away, his shoulders tense. The words were like knives, cutting deep into the insecurities he tried so hard to bury. He didn’t want to be more. Didn’t want to be anything. He just wanted…what? Peace? Forgiveness? He didn’t even know anymore.

“And what about this child?” he asked softly. “What kind of life will it have? Growing up as the child of a traitor? Of someone who betrayed his own village?”

“The child will have you,” Neji said quietly. “And that’s more than enough.”

Sasuke stared at him, his heart pounding in his chest. “How can you say that? How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you,” Neji replied, his voice steady. “I know the kind of person you are, Sasuke. I’ve seen the strength and determination in you—the way you never give up, no matter what. The way you keep pushing forward, even when everything seems hopeless.”

Sasuke shook his head, his gaze dropping to the blanket twisted in his hands. “That doesn’t make me a good person. That doesn’t make me a good father.”

“No,” Neji agreed softly. “But it means you’ll keep trying. It means you won’t abandon this child, no matter what. Because that’s who you are.”

The words hit Sasuke like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from his lungs. He stared at Neji, his eyes wide, his chest aching. “I don’t—I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered. “I don’t know if I can be what this child needs.”

“You can,” Neji said quietly. “Because you’re stronger than you think.”

Sasuke closed his eyes, his breathing shallow. He wanted to believe Neji. Wanted to believe that he could be more than just the sum of his mistakes. But the doubts, the fear, they clung to him like a dark, suffocating shroud.

And then, slowly, hesitantly, he felt Neji’s hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not alone, Sasuke,” Neji murmured. “I’m here. I’ll help you. Whatever you decide—whatever happens—you won’t have to face it alone.”

Sasuke’s eyes snapped open, his breath hitching. He looked up at Neji, his gaze searching, desperate. “Why?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

Neji’s expression softened, something warm and fierce flickering in his eyes. “Because I believe in you, Sasuke. Because you deserve more than what you’ve been given. And because…” He hesitated, then shook his head. “Because you’re important to me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and charged. Sasuke stared at him, his heart pounding, his chest tight. For a moment, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe.

And then, slowly, something inside him began to shift.

Maybe…maybe he could do this. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to live with this. To accept this child. To be…a father.

The thought was terrifying, overwhelming. But as he looked into Neji’s eyes—saw the quiet determination, the unwavering support—something like hope began to stir within him.

Maybe he wasn’t as alone as he thought.

Maybe, he could face whatever came next.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he let out a shaky breath. he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’ll try.”

Neji’s gaze softened, a small, gentle smile tugging at his lips. “That’s all anyone can ask for.”

Sasuke nodded, his heart still racing, but the fear—just for a moment—felt a little less suffocating.

Maybe…maybe he could do this after all.