Title: Insomnia

Summary: Drabble. Reflections on Yuki's past insomnia that triggered his catatonic zombie state in the mornings and how one girl cured it, though perhaps that wouldn't last much longer.

Rating: T

Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 1,946

Perhaps Yuki Sohma's most famous trait was his deep sleeps. He could fall asleep just about anywhere, in any position, under any condition, and once he was out, it was near impossible to wake him and get away unscathed. He slept through the most treacherous storms, even if he had fallen asleep outside during a tsunami, the loudest noises, even if he slept beside train tracks with their engines roaring and their sirens blaring, and the most dangerous stunts, even when Kyo came, bursting into his room, knocking down the door, and attacked him with his fists blared. Tohru Honda was perhaps the only person in existence with the capabilities to wake him without getting hurt or damaging anything or anyone else, but even then, one had to guilt her into disturbing what she considered peaceful slumber.

No one understood why he slept so heavily yet seemed so defensive in his sleep. This sleeping anomaly baffled everyone, yet no one bothered to seek answers since it didn't really harm anyone, except for Kyo whenever he tried to wake him. Regardless, Tohru fretted, though she worried about everything. She hoped he got enough sleep. Most nights, he stayed up later than she did, and she didn't get home from her part time job until after eleven at night. If she ever needed to use the bathroom or get a drink from the kitchen in the middle of the night, light usually still shone brightly as it crept through the cracks around his door, even at four in the morning. In fact, she could usually still see his light blaring brightly when she got up at five every morning. Only rarely did she see his light off, and on those days, she could only assume the light bulb had burned out.

Every time she dared to open his door the tiniest crack to see why he hadn't gone to sleep yet, she'd find him buried in a chaotic mess on his bed with the lamp on his nightstand still on its brightest setting. He'd be sprawled across his bed, his limbs tangled in his sheets and his comforter across the room with a large text book still open across his chest and a few others scattered around his bed and his floor with crumpled papers everywhere else. Half of the time he had already changed into his pajamas, but sometimes, she'd find him passed out in his school uniform still, and occasionally, she'd find him seated at his desk with his head buried in his arms under his desk light.

Of course, she'd only find him like that towards the end of the night, when the moon started to fade and the sun started creeping above the horizon, casting a dim glow in his room, though she could hardly tell with all his lights still on. If she checked any earlier, when the stars twinkled brightly and darkness lingered through the hallways, she'd find him seated in his bed or somewhere with a book in his hands and his glasses perched on his nose, yawning sleepily yet refusing to settle under the covers and sleep though she tried to urge him to. Her arguments always left her sighing in defeat, and she'd retreat out of the room to go get him a snack from the kitchen before slinking back into her own room and flopping back onto her comfy bed with a deep frown.

For a while, she just assumed that he had too much school work to finish before he could sleep, seeing as he was the president of the student council and that he often stayed at school until dinnertime or even later. She knew he did most of the work the student council should have shared since he described the other members as lazy incompetents who only wanted to mess around, and she knew he had a lot of school work to finish since she was in the same class, and she assumed he spent a lot of time on each assignment and on studying since he received the highest marks in their class. He also somehow managed to keep his garden glowing a healthy green. It seemed only natural that he wouldn't have enough hours in a day to accomplish all this and manage to sleep a lot, and she was content with this belief until she happened to check on him one night when a thunder storm had caused them to lose their power.

She thought she'd find him seated at his desk with a flashlight, trying to finish some homework or holding a textbook up to the moonlight trying to study for a test, but instead, she found him curled up in the corner of his room, clutching a dim flashlight that kept flickering out. Tohru caught one glimpse of his face from the fading gold glow before the batteries died and shrouded the room back in darkness, but enough seconds had passed by to show her the beads of sweat that coated his face, intermingling with what she guessed were tears trickling out of the corners of his eyes, the small gap in his mouth against a deep set frown, and the violet storm of terror brewing in his wide eyes. Tohru vaguely noticed his white knuckles squeezing the handle of the flashlight and his other fingers digging nails into his palm as they closed into a fist. She saw him tremble. She saw him shake. She saw him sweeping his frantic gaze around the room with restless eyes, certain that he found signs of danger though they disappeared before he could pinpoint the source.

Even after she couldn't make out his form clearly in the darkness, she could hear his quick shallow breaths, and when her eyes adjusted to the faint moonlight streaming through his windows, she could see that he had pressed himself tighter into the corner.

He seemed so small with his knees bent against his chest, crouching down like that.

Alarmed, she rushed into his room, bounding over to him and taking his free hand in hers. She questioned his actions, in the gentlest voice she could muster despite the tremors. He had seemed fine when they were all together downstairs eating before the power went out. He had seemed fine when they rummaged through the house in search of candles and flashlights after they lost power. He had seemed fine, though slightly shaky, when he opened his door and went inside his room after biding her goodnight with the flashlight he was now clutching onto for dear life in his hand.

He didn't seem to hear her at first. Didn't even seem to register her presence in the darkness, though she could clearly see him, but she repeated her question softly until his unfocused eyes finally settled onto hers. Even then, it took him a minute before incoherent words began spewing from his mouth. She couldn't quite make sense of what he said at first. He muttered some strings of words.

Worthless.

Useless.

Strange.

Unwanted.

Tool.

Freak.

That dark room.

Ugly, pathetic rat.

Who would ever want to be your friend?

And he rambled about thin black eyes swirling with malice and a small dark room that swallowed him. He choked when he described the pungent smell of buckets of black paint mixed with blood stains, some still wet and others long since dried. He sputtered about uncontrollable coughing fits, and the yelling and the screaming. The voices that echoed through his head in the darkness. Those eyes that haunted him in the darkness. That empty void that threatened to consume him in the darkness.

He coughed a few times and begged her not to send her back to the darkness, promising he'd be good if she'd take him home. The tears freely trailed down his cheeks now as he whimpered inconsolably, so she finally tossed her arms around him and held him as tightly as she could for those three seconds before a small 'poof' resonated. A small rat fell onto her lap, and the flashlight clattered to the floor. She took his rodent form into her arms and continued to hug him, murmuring soothing words and stroking his furry back until they both fell onto the floor, fast asleep.

She finally understood why he couldn't sleep at night. Finally understood why she never found his room dark. Finally understood why he walked around like a zombie and passed out throughout the house in the morning.
Yuki Sohma was afraid of the dark and the monsters in his head that grew more vicious after the sun set.

Tohru awoke with dried tear trails across her face and an embarrassed rat trapped in her arms. She set him back down on his wood floor, on the small patch of sunlight, but not before promising to help him. So she found herself, many a night, staying with Yuki at night until he fell asleep, singing to him, telling him stories, or sometimes even dragging the spare futon into his room and staying with him all night. Occasionally she climbed into bed, sleeping with a small gray rat on her belly. With her, he found nothing to fear. She'd hold him until he felt safe, and he fell asleep easily.

Since that fateful power outage, the sleeping-terror-zombie-monster-best-not-to-touch, dubbed by Shigure, hardly reared his head anymore, though after Yuki and Tohru started dating, Shigure mercilessly teased them about their scandalous sleeping arrangements until Tohru nearly fainted of embarrassment.

After they wed, that monster had yet to return, along with the curse.

Yuki learned to appreciate the early mornings he had alone with Tohru.

Of course there were still some nights he couldn't fall asleep, but he didn't mind those rare incidents, like tonight.

Gazing at the slender form lying curled up beside him under a thin blanket, Yuki smiled, running his fingers through her damp hair that shimmered in the sliver slimmer of moonlight sifting through the fluttering curtains. Rolling onto his side, he slid closer to his wife, pressing himself against her warm back despite the summer heat. He laid his head against hers and burrowed his nose deep into the silky brown strands splayed across her pillow, inhaling the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo and sweat, but coming from her, the musky aroma could be nothing other than heavenly. He planted a kiss gently on her ear lobe before slipping his arm around her rounding abdomen and drawing her against him. She twitched, reaching up to brush her hair away from her face, but otherwise continued to slumber. He grinned, listening to her slow breathing as he ran his fingers up and down her bulging stomach. Yuki could feel something shifting under Tohru's thin nightgown before he felt a tiny foot kick the palm he had above Tohru's navel. He muffled his laughs as more kicks and perhaps punches followed. When his mirth faded at last, he lifted his head quietly to peer at Tohru's closed eyes and gentle smile.

At times like these, he appreciated that Tohru rivaled him in her ability to sleep like the dead. It was the only time she let him fuss over the life swelling inside her without blushing and trying to squirm away from him in embarrassment. So for now, he didn't hate his bouts with insomnia as much anymore, but soon enough, he supposed, wails and sobbing would soon keep him up rather than nightmarish torments, but he doubted he'd mind so much. He just snuggled deeper into bed, staring into the darkness and holding Tohru, feeling none of his previous terror and continuing to smile to himself.

Written two weeks ago, finally edited today. I apologize. This is like a combination of "Sleeping Beauty" and "Claustrophobia." I figure Yuki must have a lot of fears he keeps hidden, but as per usual, I cannot leave this angsty. I hope you enjoyed. Please correct my mistakes.