Night Terrors (Tomoyo/Sakura)

[storypaint]

Comm: 20_inkspots (claim dropped)
Words: 365
Title: Night Terrors
Series: Cardcaptor Sakura
Pairing: Daidouji Tomoyo/Kinomoto Sakura
Author: rhap_chan
Artist: sky_pirate_tat
Theme Set: Dark themes, #3
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: shojo ai
Disclaimer: Cardcaptor Sakura belongs to CLAMP. All fanfiction archived here is a derivative of canon material that is not my property. I do not profit from these writings. The opinions and actions expressed in these stories are not necessarily the views and beliefs of the original author or me.

Summary: Tomoyo can't stand the night now that she's alone in it.

Tomoyo found the night to be the hardest time to be alone.

After two years of running around in the dark, her heart pounding with excitement, it had ended abruptly, though not without fanfare. Now she was supposed to sleep at night.

But at night now, she was alone.

Tomoyo lay in her bed tucked carefully under the covers and her eyes panned the room. The curtains were open enough for the moon to slink across the floor and illuminate her furniture.

There, the open closet, forbiddingly dark. That was where she kept all of the costumes she made for Sakura. It yawned open, beckoning her to make another costume, something to match Sakura's eyes so perfectly, something she could tuck away again in the closet, never again to be worn, and carefully placed in plastic to preserve the soft scent of a twelve-year-old girl.

Tomoyo knew this obsession she had was wrong and twisted. But she didn't care. She didn't want to be alone at night.

She lay in her bed and shifted onto her stomach, throwing the covers over her head to block the world out. If she strained, she could remember the soft, familiar sound of her phone ringing, and Sakura's voice--

Another Card on the loose--

Clow-sama's presence in the park--

But the silence filled up her ears and squeezed out the memories of that excited, frightened voice.

Tomoyo found the night to be the hardest time to be alone, because it was at night that Sakura's ghost hovered at the end of her bed and smiled at her. It wasn't real, of course. But she was there all the same, in the carefully catalogued videotapes and the fabric in the closet and that small eraser she had hidden away.

Tomoyo fell asleep with her beloved's name on her lips, and awoke screaming. She did that sometimes, now that Sakura was gone, but no one ever came to see what was wrong with her.

Tomoyo breathed harshly and sat up in bed, her fingers clutched to the bedsheets, resigned to wait up until the dawn. She rarely slept anymore.

"Sakura," Tomoyo cried, and watched the stars wink out, one by one.