Unspoken Bond
Sasuke had lost count of the days. Ever since he had been confined to the hospital, time felt warped—stretched out like a never-ending monotony of stillness, where the only thing that changed was the sky outside the window. It was strange to think how time had passed in this quiet space, far removed from the rest of the world.
The walls of the room were the same sterile white, the same soft hum of machines monitoring his vitals, the same scent of antiseptic in the air. Yet something had shifted—something small, almost imperceptible, but undeniably present.
It had been at least a week now, though he couldn’t be sure. His sense of time had slipped through his fingers along with his strength.
Yet there was one constant—Neji.
Neji was always there. From the moment Sasuke stirred in the morning until he drifted into fitful sleep at night, Neji was nearby. Sometimes sitting in a chair by the window, sometimes standing with his back to the wall, quietly observing. Always present, always watching.
Sasuke wasn’t used to such unwavering attention. It gnawed at him at first, made him feel exposed in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. But with each passing day, the tension between them lessened, the silence grew less oppressive, and Sasuke found himself strangely… comforted by Neji’s presence.
It was late evening now, and the dim light of the setting sun filtered into the room, casting long shadows across the floor. Sasuke shifted under the blanket, feeling the restlessness that had plagued him for days return. He couldn’t sleep—not really. His mind wouldn’t let him.
“When will I sleep for real?” he muttered to no one in particular, the question more of a frustrated release than an actual inquiry.
From his spot by the window, Neji glanced over. His gaze was steady, unreadable, but there was a hint of understanding in his eyes.
“You’ll sleep when your body is ready,” Neji said softly, his voice calm, like the slow ebb of a river. “Your mind has to catch up with it.”
Sasuke’s lips pressed into a thin line. It wasn’t much of an answer, but Neji wasn’t exactly the type to offer false comfort. He appreciated that.
A sigh escaped Sasuke, and he closed his eyes, trying to will himself into relaxation. It didn’t work. It never worked.
But when he opened his eyes again, Neji was beside him, adjusting the blanket that had slipped down to Sasuke’s waist. Sasuke hadn’t even heard him move. He blinked, momentarily startled, though his face betrayed nothing.
“You’ve been tossing in your sleep,” Neji said, as if that explained everything. “It’s better to keep you warm.”
Sasuke wanted to protest, to say that he didn’t need anyone fussing over him, but the words died in his throat. Instead, he remained silent, allowing Neji to adjust the blanket as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
It was small, these gestures Neji made. Barely noticeable if you weren’t paying attention. But Sasuke was paying attention, even when he pretended not to. He saw how Neji always made sure the food trays were placed within easy reach when the nurses brought them in. How Neji would quietly refill Sasuke’s water glass without being asked. How he’d keep the room’s sliding door cracked just enough for fresh air to drift in, but not enough to let the chill seep through.
Sasuke’s eyes flicked toward the food tray on the small table beside his bed. His appetite had returned somewhat in the last few days, though he still ate sparingly. Neji noticed. He always noticed.
“You didn’t have to stay,” he said quietly, his voice almost lost in the stillness of the room.
Neji turned to look at him, his expression unreadable. “I know.”
Sasuke’s gaze didn’t waver. “Then why did you?”
It was a simple question, but it carried more weight than Sasuke intended. He hadn’t asked Neji to stay, hadn’t expected him to. But Neji had been here, day after day, through Sasuke’s recovery, without complaint. And now, Sasuke found himself wondering why.
Neji didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Sasuke’s. “Because I wanted to.”
The simplicity of the answer caught Sasuke off guard. He had expected something more—a reason, an explanation. But there was none. Neji had stayed because he wanted to, and that, more than anything, left Sasuke momentarily speechless.
For a long moment, Sasuke didn’t say anything. He simply stared at Neji, trying to process the meaning behind his words. He had spent so much of his life alone, trusting no one, relying on no one. But now, sitting here with Neji, he realized that things were different. Neji wasn’t like anyone else. He didn’t expect anything from Sasuke. He wasn’t trying to manipulate him, to use him. He was simply… there.
“You’re stubborn,” Sasuke said finally, his voice laced with a hint of dry amusement.
Neji’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “So are you.”
There was a quiet understanding between them now, one that didn’t need to be spoken aloud.
The following morning, Tsunade entered the room with her usual briskness, Shizune at her side. They had been checking on Sasuke every day since his admission, monitoring his condition with clinical precision. But today, there was something different in the air.
Tsunade gave Neji a brief nod, acknowledging his presence as usual. She had grown accustomed to seeing him there, a silent guardian at Sasuke’s side. But today, her attention lingered on Sasuke himself.
“Looks like you’re sitting up on your own,” Tsunade observed, her sharp eyes scanning Sasuke’s form. “That’s progress.”
Sasuke gave a small nod, not bothering with a verbal response. He didn’t need to. Tsunade wasn’t expecting one.
Shizune, however, smiled softly as she approached the bed, her tone lighter than usual. “Your appetite’s improving too. You’ve been eating more regularly.”
It wasn’t a question, but Sasuke felt the weight of their scrutiny regardless. He glanced toward the food tray, then back at the two women, unsure how to respond.
“Neji’s been making sure of that,” Shizune added with a knowing glance toward the Hyūga.
Tsunade raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Instead, she pulled out her clipboard, making a few notes before turning her attention fully to Sasuke. “You’re looking better. Physically, at least.”
Sasuke didn’t respond, though he knew what she meant. His body was recovering, slowly but surely, but his mind… that was another story.
Tsunade didn’t push him. She had learned long ago that Sasuke wasn’t one for heart-to-heart conversations, especially not in front of others. But she had also noticed something subtle over the past few days—Sasuke was less guarded, more open to the care he was receiving. And she suspected that had a lot to do with Neji.
As the checkup continued, Tsunade glanced at Neji again, her expression softening slightly. “You’ve been a steady presence here. That’s not lost on us.”
Neji merely inclined his head, his usual stoic demeanor in place. But there was a quiet satisfaction in his eyes that didn’t go unnoticed.
Later that day when Kakashi stopped by, as he had been doing regularly since Sasuke’s hospitalization. His visits were brief, often filled with idle conversation or casual observations, but Sasuke had grown accustomed to them.
Today, however, Kakashi seemed more focused. As he stepped into the room, his lone visible eye flicked between Sasuke and Neji, his usual relaxed posture slightly more alert.
“Good to see you sitting up, Sasuke,” Kakashi said as he took his usual spot by the door, leaning against the frame. “You’re starting to look like your old self.”
Sasuke gave a noncommittal grunt, his gaze sliding toward the window. He wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries, but he knew Kakashi wasn’t here to push him.
Still, there was something different in the air—an unspoken acknowledgment of the changes that had been occurring over the past week.
Kakashi’s gaze shifted to Neji, who remained seated by Sasuke’s side, his presence as steady as ever. “You’ve been here a lot.”
Neji nodded once, his expression calm. “Sasuke needed someone.”
Kakashi hummed thoughtfully, his eye narrowing slightly in thought. “And you’re that someone?”
There was no malice in Kakashi’s tone, but Neji understood the weight of the question. He met Kakashi’s gaze evenly, his voice steady. “For now, yes.”
Sasuke shifted slightly in his bed, listening to the exchange without comment. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the way they were discussing him as if he weren’t there, but at the same time… he didn’t mind that Neji was taking some of the weight off his shoulders.
Kakashi, ever the observant one, seemed to pick up on the subtle dynamic between them. His usual relaxed demeanor returned as he pushed off the doorframe and gave Neji a casual salute. “Keep up the good work, then.”
As Kakashi left the room, Sasuke let out a quiet breath, his body relaxing slightly. Neji remained silent, his gaze fixed on the window, but Sasuke could feel the unspoken connection between them strengthening with each passing day.
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Over the next few days, Sasuke and Neji fell into a routine—a quiet, unspoken rhythm that neither of them acknowledged outright but both found comfort in.
In the morning, just as Sasuke was stirring awake. Neji would help Sasuke sit up, adjust the blankets, and make sure the food tray was within reach. Sasuke, for his part, had stopped resisting the care. He accepted it, even if he didn’t say it out loud.
When Sasuke was too tired to eat on his own, Neji would quietly assist him, never making a fuss about it. It was these small gestures—so insignificant to anyone else—that made the difference. Sasuke wasn’t used to being cared for in such a way, and though it unsettled him at first, he found himself growing accustomed to it. Maybe even… relying on it.
One evening, after Tsunade’s latest checkup, Sasuke spoke up.
You… don’t have to stay here all the time.”
It wasn’t a dismissal, but an acknowledgment of the effort Neji had been putting in. Sasuke wasn’t used to accepting help, let alone relying on someone else for support. But with Neji, it felt… different.
Neji took his usual seat by the window, folding his hands in his lap. “I choose to stay.”
The words were simple, but they hung in the air with a weight that made Sasuke pause. He wasn’t used to such direct honesty . For a moment, Sasuke didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to say he was fine on his own, that he didn’t need anyone—but something stopped him.
He was tired. Tired of pretending he could do everything on his own. Tired of pushing people away, even when part of him wanted them to stay.
So instead of pushing back, Sasuke merely nodded, turning his gaze to the window where the moonlight filtered through the blinds. He didn’t say anything, and neither did Neji. But the silence between them felt less tense now, more like an understanding.
There was something about Neji’s quiet, unwavering presence that calmed the storm inside Sasuke’s head. It wasn’t about words or grand gestures—it was about the subtle, unspoken ways Neji showed that he was there. That he wasn’t leaving.
For someone like Sasuke, who had known so much loss and betrayal, that kind of steady support meant more than he could put into words.
By the end of the second week, a new rhythm had settled between Sasuke and Neji. It was no longer just Neji looking after Sasuke—it was something more. A bond had formed between them, something unspoken but undeniable.
Sasuke had grown used to Neji’s presence. He no longer questioned why Neji stayed or why he cared. He didn’t need to. The answer was in the way Neji was always there, quietly taking care of the little things without making a fuss. It was in the way he made sure Sasuke ate, rested, and healed without pushing him too far. It was in the way he never asked for anything in return.
One evening, as Neji helped Sasuke settle into bed, Sasuke finally spoke what had been on his mind for days.
“Thank you.”
Neji paused, surprised by the words. He hadn’t been expecting them, especially not from Sasuke. But when he looked into Sasuke’s eyes, he saw the sincerity there, the quiet gratitude that Sasuke had always struggled to express.
“You don’t have to thank me,” Neji said softly, his voice as steady as ever. “I’m here because I want to be.”
Sasuke nodded, though he didn’t say anything more. He didn’t need to. Neji understood.
As Sasuke drifted off to sleep, Neji remained by his side, watching over him in the quiet of the night. The bond between them had grown stronger over the past week, and though neither of them had spoken the words out loud, they both knew it was something that went beyond simple care.
It was trust. It was respect. And, maybe—just maybe—it was the beginning of something more.