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The first time Shouta witnessed Hitoshi having night terrors, Shouta honestly thought that there was a break-in and something was really, horribly wrong from the way Hitoshi was screaming.
It didn’t help that it was in the middle of the night. Shouta had always known that Hitoshi had problems sleeping, judging from how he would sometimes doze off after training and always had dark circles under his eyes. That was only confirmed when Shouta adopted him. For the first week, Hitoshi slept out on the couch, if he slept at all. Tonight was only the second night Hitoshi had spent in his own room, the door open so that he wasn’t completely alone, and it happened to be the first night he’d have night terrors in his new household.
Shouta was awoken at three in the morning to the unmistakable sound of his newly adopted son’s screams. He didn’t think—didn’t have time to think—bolting out of bed and running to Hitoshi’s room, shoving the door the rest of the way open, expecting to find the worst, a villain attacking or some criminal breaking in through Hitoshi’s room or—
Shouta stopped, standing in the doorway, staring into the room. There was no villain, or break-in. No, Hitoshi was alone. Totally alone. But he was in a state Shouta had never seen him before, writhing around in his bed, tangled in a mess of blankets and sheets, breathing hard and still letting out occasional, high-pitched screams. Hitoshi was usually pretty collected, though Shouta had seen him cry a couple times, but this was—it was something else entirely, and Shouta needed to help him.
He knew what it was. Shouta himself suffered from nightmares, a product of both his upbringing and part of his job description. He’d had nightmares, but never night terrors. He knew how to recognize them though, and he knew that was what was happening to Hitoshi. There wasn’t a villain or a break-in, but Hitoshi was still suffering, and Shouta needed to fix it, needed to help him, even if this was something he’d never quite dealt with before.
Shouta went to him, not hesitating a moment longer. He sat on the bed, studying Hitoshi. He kid’s eyes were clenched shut, clearly still sleeping and dreaming, still suffering from whatever terror his brain had made him relive. Carefully, he reached out, finding Hitoshi’s arms in the mass of bedding, and shook him, calling out gently.
“Hitoshi—”
Shouta was a little relieved that that was all it took, because Hitoshi immediately stiffened and shot up, nearly hitting Shouta with how fast he sat up. His violet eyes were wide, huge and unfocused, and he drew in a sharp breath.
Shouta gave it a moment. He waited. He was patient. Hitoshi’s eyes slowly focused on him, slowly recognizing him, and he let out the breath he’d been holding, his shoulders dropping as he hung his head, not looking at Shouta anymore.
“...Sorry. I must’ve woken you up,” Hitoshi murmured, voice soft and full of shame, like Hitoshi wasn’t even trying to hide it.
Shouta studied him for a moment more, his hand still on Hitoshi’s shoulder. Hitoshi was hunched over, violet hair hanging over his face, hiding his expression from Shouta. He didn’t move, and Shouta could tell from his apology that Hitoshi genuinely thought that Shouta was upset at him for waking him up, when in reality Shouta couldn’t care less about the loss of sleep. Hitoshi was his priority, and it was times like these that reminded him that Hitoshi still saw himself as a burden.
“I don’t care about that,” Shouta told him honestly, moving his hand to gently rub at Hitoshi’s shoulder. He knew he wasn’t going back to sleep tonight and honestly, he didn’t want to, not when Hitoshi had already suffered like that once tonight. “I care about you. Are you alright?”
Hitoshi did raise his head a little at that, looking up at Shouta from under his wild bangs. He quickly glanced away again, but didn’t drop his head again, to Shouta’s relief. He bit down on his lip, taking a deep breath before answering, “I’m fine. It just… happens. Sometimes it happens a lot. Usually it’s not so bad but… some nights it is.”
“How long have you been having night terrors like this?” None of his paperwork had said anything about night terrors. Hitoshi had lived in foster care until he was sixteen and Shouta had adopted him just over a week ago. Had his foster parents just never thought to help Hitoshi or bring him to a doctor for it?
“I don’t know. All my life, I guess. I’ve had them ever since I was a little kid.” The shame in Hitoshi’s voice was back. Shouta rubbed at his shoulder again, but that didn’t seem to help. “I’ve just never gotten over them. It’s not really a big deal. I’m sorry for keeping you up so late.”
Shouta frowned at him. Hitoshi had a tendency to apologize when he was scared or nervous, as some sort of a coping mechanism. He could be cold and aloof in school or in public, but at home or alone with Shouta, he was just a kid, a kid who was clearly still scared of being abandoned or stepping on anyone’s toes. All Shouta wanted to do was help him and somehow show him that it was fine, that this—or anything else Hitoshi did—wasn’t a burden.
So Shouta did the only thing he could think of. He pulled Hitoshi close, pausing a little to give him the chance to pull away. He didn’t, though, only raising his head to stare up at Shouta more, and Shouta leaned in, wrapping his arms tightly around Hitoshi, pulling him impossibly close against him. He felt Hitoshi freeze up, and then shake and relax, melting into Shouta’s arms as he grabbed at him, clutching hard at Shouta’s shoulders as he hugged him back.
Shouta stayed like that a long while. He wasn’t keeping track, but he stayed there as long as Hitoshi wanted to cling to him. He didn’t care about the lack of sleep or the fact that they both had school in the morning—all he cared about was that Hitoshi was safe and feeling better, and Shouta was so focused on making sure of that, that he didn’t notice at all when Hitoshi fell asleep in his arms.
“I want to go,” Hitoshi insisted the next morning, only staring at Shouta as he desperately tried to not burn the breakfast he was in the middle of making. “I’m fine, I promise. This happens all the time. I’ve done just fine in school with less sleep.”
“Sorry, Hitoshi. You need to catch up on some rest today.” Shouta felt bad about it. He really did. Hitoshi put a lot of effort into school and as long as Shouta had known him, he’d never missed a day, even when he’d been sick or tired or hurt. Shouta was forcing him to break that streak, though, and was keeping him home from school today. “I’ll be taking you to your doctor when I’m home this afternoon. Until then, though, I need you to rest.”
“But… I’ll miss all my classes. I’ll be behind.” The look Hitoshi gave him just made him feel more guilty, his violet eyes wide and pleading, his mouth set into a heavy frown.
“I’m your homeroom teacher. I can catch you up on everything later.” That was how he’d rationalized it to himself, as well. He was Hitoshi’s teacher; he knew all the material in his classes. He had access to all his assignments. If Hitoshi really needed to do schoolwork and seemed to be feeling better later, Shouta would at least consider sitting with him and doing a couple short lessons. “Hitoshi, your health is more important. Missing a day or two of school to get some rest isn’t going to make you fall behind.”
He shut off the stove, forcing himself to look away from Hitoshi’s pleading, desperate expression. It was still early and though he’d fallen asleep in Shouta’s arms last night, Hitoshi hadn’t slept much. Shouta had stayed the night with him and tried to comfort him through it, but Hitoshi had wound up with another night terror closer to dawn. Even Shouta didn’t want to go in today, but since Nemuri—his usual substitute—had a test to proctor, Shouta had to stay until lunch, when she could take over for him.
He set Hitoshi’s plate down in front of him, proud of himself for at least making something edible for him. Hitoshi glanced down at the food in front of him, but then looked back up at Shouta, shoulders slumped as he hunched over and stared wide-eyed at him.
“It’ll be alright,” Shouta assured him, his voice dropping to a softer, more comforting tone. He really did hate to see Hitoshi like this, pushing himself so hard and devastated over the fact that Shouta was making him miss one day of school. Just the gaze Hitoshi gave him tore open a hole in his chest, making him want to give in and let Hitoshi go to school.
He knew he was doing the right thing, though. Hitoshi needed to stay home and feel better and he needed to go to the doctor appointment Shouta had made for him. Shouta didn’t say anything more, reaching out and gently resting his hand on Hitoshi’s head, meaning it as a comforting gesture, but the way Hitoshi just sighed and leaned his head into Shouta’s touch broke his heart even more.
“I don’t like it here,” Hitoshi whispered to him as soon as the doctor left the room, and Shouta couldn’t blame him a bit.
The examination room they were in was cold and impersonal, with its white walls and the smell of antiseptic lingering in the air. Even the colorful paintings hung on the walls and the childrens’ books on the end-table next to Shouta did nothing to ease his own nerves. Thankfully, though, it was almost over, and the two of them were just waiting on the doctor to call in Hitoshi’s medication and after that, they could go home.
“We’ll be able to go soon,” Shouta reminded him. Hitoshi was sitting in the chair next to him, slightly slumped over, just like he had been this morning. Something was still obviously gnawing at him. “It’ll be alright, Hitoshi. This should help. And if it doesn’t, then we’ll just try something else.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of this?”
The question startled Shouta a little. He didn’t answer immediately, stuodying Hitoshi, wondering if he’d said it out of anger. He hadn’t, though, his voice low and almost sad-sounding, his still-tired eyes averted from Shouta’s.
“Of what?”
“Of me.” Hitoshi wouldn’t look at him or face him. “Of all these problems I have.”
“No.” Shouta’s answer was immediate this time, now that he knew what Hitoshi meant. No, Hitoshi wasn’t angry. He was anxious. He’d lived in foster care all his life, with people who’d hurt him nearly nonstop. It was only logical that he was afraid that Shouta’s kindness would eventually run out. After all, that was the only thing Hitoshi knew. “I’m never going to get tired of you. You’re my son now and I want to help you, Hitoshi. You’ve been dealing with your night terrors for such a long time and you deserve to get help for it.”
Hitoshi was quiet, his eyes still averted. Shouta didn’t push him, only continuing on. It could be hard for him to express his own feelings, usually, but for Hitoshi, he was going to try.
“Look, Hitoshi, you mean everything to me. I’m going to do everything I can to help you, okay? If this medication doesn’t work, we’ll try something else. If you need me to stay with you like I did last night, or if you just need me at night, then it’s fine. The last thing I want is for you to feel guilty about asking for help.”
Admittedly, Shouta was expecting it.
Hitoshi took his sleeping medication after dinner. Shouta kept a watchful eye over him and when Hitoshi finally looked ready to doze off, he started to guide Hitoshi towards his room. Hitoshi hesitated, though, and Shouta knew it was coming.
“Will you stay with me?”
Hitoshi hadn’t been with him long. The adoption had been finalized less than two weeks ago. This was the first time Hitoshi had ever truly asked for help from him.
All Shouta could do was offer a small, genuine smile, and rub Hitoshi’s shoulder, “Of course I will.”