Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
A/N: Otherwise known as, "That Short Series of Drabbles Which is So Cute and Fluffy You'll Want to Gauge Your Eyes Out with a Spoon When You're Finished Reading It." (Actually, it's really a short series of short stories, because I've no notion of how to wrap things up in a timely manner. –grin–) The title comes from a Robert Frost poem – kudos to you if you can tell me which one – and seemed to fit the vague idea I had in my head when I embarked on this endeavor. Syaoran and Sakura are love, you see, and I felt the need to tribute them. Manga verse, because the dub makes me cringe and I'm too poor to buy the sub.
Title: So Like a Flower
Teaser: She was so fragile, and yet even flowers sometimes had thorns.
Rating: K+
Length: 569 words
Li Syaoran was in his second favorite place in the whole wide world.
From a distance, it might appear that he lay amidst a snowstorm, the big, fluffy flakes falling down all around him. Closer inspection would reveal, however, that his clothes were too light for it to be winter, and that the white "snow" was, in actually, not white at all, but the palest of pinks.
Syaoran sighed, closing his eyes as he breathed in the fragrant scent of the cherry orchard. The petals were soft on his skin, caressing his face like a lover's touch.
He smiled. She was aptly named, his Cherry Blossom.
With one deft movement, Syaoran reached out and snatched one of the falling blossoms out of the air, his eyes remaining closed. He stroked the petal gently. It was so delicate, he mused, so fragile. Had he desired, he could destroy it without a thought, rendering it in two and leaving the pieces to float away on the wind.
Of course, Syaoran could never hurt her. His fingers released the petal, letting it drift down to rest on his chest, just above his heart.
It was strange, though, how everything had turned out.
Throughout the long centuries since Clow's death, her coming had been eagerly awaited by those who were wise in the ways of magic. The Li Clan, especially, had watched their young ones with hope and near desperation, so sure that Clow's heir would be found among Clow's blood.
And, in the end, she was. Just not the way the Elders had predicted.
Syaoran's smile grew. He had been so angry at her, so furious that some clueless girl with no training and nothing but sheer talent to back her had been the Chosen One. He was the Son of the Li Clan; he was the Heir to their Power. He should have been the one to inherit Clow's mystic gifts, as well.
Oh, how wrong he'd been.
He had soon learned his lesson. Her destiny was greater than he could ever have imagined, and she was more than capable of taking care of herself. His naïve little flower had hidden thorns that soon taught a sharp lesson to any who underestimated her.
As the heir to the Li Clan, it was Syaoran's duty – and, in this case, it was his pleasure – to guide her on her path. Years ago, he would have been enraged to be so casually demoted to the role of mentor instead of hero, of knight instead of prince.
Now, Syaoran wouldn't have it any other way.
"Syaoran! Syaoraaaaannn! Are you here? Syaoran!"
From his place amidst the cherry blossoms, the young man yawned, stretched luxuriously, and opened his eyes, rising to his feet and raising one hand in the air to hail her. "Over here, Sakura!"
"There you are!" She was upon him in a flurry of flower petals and sweet cherry scent, laughing joyfully as he caught her and swung her around. "What are you doing here, silly? I've been looking for you everywhere!"
He smiled down at her, his eyes – no longer cold amber, but warm and content – meeting her cheerful green ones. "I was waiting for you," he explained, tickling her mercilessly.
They fell back among the carpet of cherry blossoms, their joyous cries evident from a long way off.
Li Syaoran was now in his favorite place in the whole wide world.
