Hello! tumblr user cherrycapturedwolf here. Wrote this based off a prompt (see end notes for details).

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in CCS. They belong to Clamp! Also, this fic was written for catseatcakes.

Side notes: This fic is based on the reference from when Yuuko said that CCS!Syaosaku live together presumably at some point when they're older (approx. 18?) so have fun with the #domesticSyaoSaku. Also, forgive me for I have sinned (mildly). Other than that, hope you all enjoy! :)

Daidouji had always said Syaoran's Sakura-radar was too sharp for his own good. Especially coming from Daidouji, who's Sakura-radar came only second to—well, his—this was really quite the statement. But Syaoran had to disagree. As if there was such a thing as that, he would think to himself with a massive eye roll. As long as Sakura had the potential to fall into the slightest danger, there was no limit to how sharp his Sakura-radar needed to be.

Until last week, Syaoran had never given the notion much thought. But the more Daidouji teased him about it, the more concerned he grew, though he wasn't quite sure why. When he told Sakura all of this one night while they were in bed and about to fall asleep, she giggled and shook her head.

"You talk like I'm too weak to handle myself," she said.

This couldn't be further from the truth. If there was anything Syaoran was very well aware of, it was the fact that Sakura was perfectly capable of protecting herself—but that wasn't quite what bothered him.

"I know you're not," he said, now feeling the need to defend his honor. "You know I don't think that. Your ability to handle yourself is one of the reasons why I love you so much."

"Oh, Syaoran, why do you worry, then?" she asked cheerfully. He frowned, reaching out to take her hand. She interlaced their fingers at once, causing a schoolboy's giddiness to erupt inside the pit of his stomach.

"I still hate seeing anything happen to you that would hurt you or make you sad in any way," he mumbled into his pillow. Even now, he found it difficult expressing touchy-feely sentiments through words. It only made her giggle more.

"And that's one of the reasons why I love you so much," she smiled, her green eyes sparkling at him. As happy as her response made him feel, it wasn't quite the reassurance he was looking for. Yawning, she added, "Now go to sleep. I don't have class tomorrow, but I know you do."

After poking his nose with her index finger, she turned around to face the other way, leaving Syaoran alone with his own thoughts. He shifted onto his back and lay there for several moments still debating in his head whether Daidouji was right or not. If his Sakura-radar really was out of proportion, then maybe there was something wrong with him. His thought process didn't get very far, however, when Sakura suddenly piped up, "You know that was an invitation for you to be the big spoon, right?"

Grinning in spite of himself, he rolled over onto his side and wrapped an arm around her. Nuzzling his nose into her hair, he breathed in the familiar scent of cherry blossoms. The internal debate could wait another day.

—

Still not at peace with the accusation that his Sakura-radar was "too sharp for his own good," Syaoran dug through his memories and recalled one of the many crucial times when he was grateful for its accuracy.

It had happened two months ago at the end of spring break, a few days after Sakura's birthday. Despite being in different majors, their schedules had allowed their Tuesday lunches to match up, and so every Tuesday after their respective classes, they would head down to the open grass area beneath the cherry blossom trees and share a meal together. He was especially excited that week because the trees were in full bloom and he knew that was always her favorite time of the year.

Like any other class held right before noon, the last ten minutes had lulled the students into a lackadaisical stupor. Thinking of all the things he would rather be doing with his time—having lunch with Sakura for one—Syaoran was itching for the end of class. It was in that desperate moment when he received the most unhelpful text from her.

"Hey, little wolf; got out early. I'll wait for you in our usual spot. Take your time. Love you!"

The remaining five minutes could not have passed any slower. Syaoran sat with his chin sliding off his supporting hand as the professor continued to drone on about integrals. This is so pointless, he thought, I know this stuff already. He watched the second hand of the clock overhead tick on and on until finally, at long last, the professor dismissed them.

Hurrying out of the classroom with his books and backpack in tow, he headed towards their meeting place. He was powerwalking along the corridor when a sudden thought stopped him dead in his tracks.

Sakura texted him to say she was going to be there early. This was not normal. If Sakura was there early, which was not the norm, there would be room for a very wide margin of error. It would be careless to assume that the day might not spiral into chaos. This was not the norm.

He broke off into a run, past the engineering buildings, past the student center, right down to the cherry blossom trees. Upon arriving on the scene, he bent over to catch his breath before looking up, fearing the worst. Raising his eyes to where he knew Sakura would be seated, his stomach clenched at the sight before him.

Another boy was sitting next to her, and although Syaoran was still at a distance, he could read Sakura's body language like no one else could: head bowed down, chest withdrawn, shoulders shaking with nervous laughter—she was uncomfortable.

As he marched himself closer to save his girlfriend, he began to pick up pieces of their conversation.

"...Well if your boyfriend's late, maybe I can substitute in?"

"A-ano..." She mumbled, trying her best not to be rude. "I'm very flattered but—"

"But actually, he's on time," Syaoran interrupted, leaning against the tree behind her and glaring down at the other boy. Unable to resist, he added, "and unfortunately for you, he knows martial arts so...if I were you, I'd scurry along to bother someone else."

Grumbling, the boy picked up his backpack and dragged his feet irritably away from them. When he was out of earshot, Sakura burst into laughter.

"'And he knows martial arts'—" she chortled. "That was a good one, Syaoran. But you know... as someone who's been on the receiving end of your infamous glare, I don't think it was necessary to make the poor boy wet himself."

"Making you feel uncomfortable is a perfectly valid reason," he said, smiling as he gave her a swift kiss before sitting down beside her. Even though the boy had put a damper on their time, they then proceeded to enjoy their shrimp fried rice.

—

So yes, if it weren't for his Sakura-radar, he wouldn't have arrived as quickly as he did, which meant that Sakura would have had to endure a few more minutes of the annoying boy bothering her. There was no way Daidouji could argue against his rationality there.

Was there? he thought with a scowl, looking up from his history textbook. Sakura was curled up on the couch reviewing notes for one of her general education classes. She looked so adorable with her face scrunched up in deep concentration that he almost didn't want to interrupt her.

"Do you think my Sakura-radar was 'too sharp for my own good' when I arrived just in time to stop that one guy from hitting on you?" he burst out, unable to contain himself. "You know, that one time after spring break?"

Looking up from her homework, Sakura tilted her head at him as she considered the question.

"Um, sure, I'd say your sixth sense was on point," she said. Then, eyeing him closely, she added, "What's bothering you?"

"I don't know," he said. "Something about the way Daidouji said it still doesn't sit right with me."

"Oh, Syaoran," she said, "you know Tomoyo-chan probably said that just to mess with your head."

"I know, but still," he said. He couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that irked him so much. It was time to eliminate some possibilities. "Aren't you—don't you feel...embarrassed by her comment?"

"Do you?" she countered.

"What! No—ridiculous—" he spluttered. Much to his dismay, Sakura broke into a fresh peal of giggles and he felt the need to defend himself again. "No, it's true—no, listen! If I really were embarrassed, I wouldn't have brought it up again. I would've taken it to my grave and you know that."

"True..." she said, wiping her eyes and clutching her stomach. "It's still funny though."

Her smile vanished when she saw the look on his face and she recomposed herself.

"I think," she said, giving Syaoran's anxiety a more serious thought, "that if she had made that comment three years ago, I would have definitely been embarrassed...but now I just think it's cute that you have these spidey-senses when it comes to me."

That made him feel better, but it didn't quite resolve whatever it was that was irking him. Feeling like he had to eliminate more possible reasons why Daidouji's words bothered him, he withdrew into his own mind to continue the internal debate.

"You haven't completely let it go, have you?" Sakura asked a few minutes later, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up at her as she put her notes down on the coffee table. Getting up from her seat, she sighed at him. "Look, Syao, it's a Friday night, it's been a long week, and I'm sore from cheer practice, so if you don't mind, I really need to take a nice, hot bath."

"Okay," he said, watching her walk into the bathroom. Completely intending to take advantage of her absence to ponder more about his current dilemma, he remained rooted to his spot when she poked her head out and looked at him expectantly.

"Are you coming or what?" she asked before sliding back out of sight.

He continued to sit on the couch stubbornly for a few moments before admitting defeat and getting up to follow her. That wasn't fair of her, he thought, who could say no to that?

—

Despite his best efforts, Syaoran still felt the need to justify his behavior to himself the week after so he searched for another instance where his Sakura-radar came in handy. His mind settled on a day just five weeks ago in late May when he sensed a disturbance after Sakura didn't respond to his text.

He had a late afternoon class every Thursday that ended at 6:30, and every week, he would check in with Sakura to see what they would be doing for dinner. Usually, they would either eat out together or she'd prepare a meal and have it ready just as he made it back to their apartment. Other times, when they were feeling cheap or lazy, he'd grab some takeout on the way home.

On this particular Thursday, he shot her the usual text at the beginning of his lecture to ask what the plan was for the night. Then, being a responsible student, he put his phone away and paid attention—archaeology was his favorite subject after all. Once the fascinating lesson was over, he pulled out his phone to check on their plans while his classmates around him packed their bags and stood up to leave. When the lock screen lit up, his face fell. She hadn't responded.

But that wasn't right. She always responded. Every Thursday for the last several weeks since the semester started, she had always responded. The only reason she wouldn't respond is if she couldn't respond. And if she couldn't respond, then...

Packing away his notes and laptop at top speed, he dashed out of the classroom and sprinted towards the bus stop. As he ran, he recalled how Sakura tripped over her feet the night before when she walked into the bedroom after dinner and how unusually lightheaded she felt when she had lain down. Although she had said it was nothing, Syaoran should have picked up on those dangerous signs and deduced that something was wrong.

He skidded to a halt at the bus stop but couldn't stop his legs from marching in place. He had to get home as soon as possible because if Sakura still hadn't texted him, the world might end. Pulling out his phone, he checked it again for messages. No response.

Come on, come on, come on—

His bus came and he hurled himself onto it, not bothering to sit down. Holding onto the bar above, he willed himself to be patient as he counted down each stop. When he finally got off, he ran down the block towards their apartment, up the steps, and burst through the front door.

"Sakura?"

Dashing into the living room, he spotted her sprawled on the couch, completely knocked out beneath three different blankets. Her breaths came in short shallow sips and her cheeks were flushed but his heart flooded with relief that nothing worse had happened. Walking over to her, he put a hand to her forehead: her skin felt as hot as a furnace.

"S-Syao...?" she asked. Her voice sounded hoarse and faint. "S-sorry I forgot to text you but...I hadn't intended on ditching my afternoon class either so—"

"Shh, just rest," he said, smiling down at her. "I'll make dinner, okay?"

She nodded and snuggled deeper into the blankets while Syaoran rolled up his sleeves and got to work. Bless his sixth sense of a radar.

—

That near-fatal incident had to be the one that wiped away any doubts he had about his sanity. Even Daidouji couldn't disagree for sure. Bringing it up to Sakura another night when they were cuddling on the couch watching TV, he posed the question to her.

"So remember that time you were sick and didn't tell me but I could sense something was off? Was my Sakura-radar too much then?"

She turned away from the TV to face him, searching his eyes to try and gauge what he was feeling.

"You're still going on about that?" was her supportive response.

He shrugged, waiting for her to speak again.

"Okay," she said, grabbing the remote and turning the TV off. "The first two times you brought it up, I thought you were just being your typical worrying self and letting Tomoyo-chan's jokes get to your head, but now it seems like there's something deeper eating at you."

"You do think I worry too much, then?" he asked.

"So what if you do?"

She said it casually, but the quickness with which she replied and the offhandedness in her voice made his stomach turn unpleasantly. She wasn't even denying it.

"Maybe it means I'm a terrible boyfriend," he said quietly. She raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised.

"Where on earth would you get an idea like that?"

"I think..." he said, looking away from her, "I think I've been troubled just thinking of the type of person Daidouji's comment implies. Because maybe I do overreact. Like you said, you aren't weak or unable to take care of yourself. So...it all just makes me wonder if my behavior is unreasonable."

For a few minutes, Sakura didn't respond. Growing anxious, he looked back down to see her biting her lip in deep thought.

"Syaoran, are you really that worried about being unreasonable?" she asked.

"Well, I don't want you to ever feel like you have an overbearing boyfriend for one," he said, counting down on his fingers, "and also, I've seen 'overprotective' as a word used to describe unhealthy behavior patterns that can affect a relationship and potentially cause it to end in—"

"Stop it," she said at once, putting a finger to his lips to silence him. His eyes nearly crossed in the middle as he focused on her hand. "I told you the other night that your overprotectiveness was one of the things I loved most about you, didn't I?"

"Yes, but—"

"No but's," she said. She was no longer smiling and her brows were knitted together to form a stern expression. "I didn't explain this before because I didn't think I needed to. But if you're not going to drop the topic, then so be it."

She took a deep breath and plunged on.

"First of all, I love you because of all the things that you are—including being overbearing or overprotective—not in spite of. And second of all, who cares if your 'research' tells you that some of your traits can be 'unhealthy'? I don't care what the general public or 'relationship experts' or psychologists say, our relationship is our thing. Nobody can tell us what's the best way to be in one. Nobody can tell us what's the best way to love. If there were things that were unhealthy about us, I'm sure we would eventually realize and work on them. That's why we're together, right? We're a team; we'll work on improving each other until the day we die. But being overprotective? Do you think I didn't realize you were an overprotective worrywart when we were just friends? Has that ever bothered me or pushed me away? If anything, that is one of my favorite things about you. So please, Syaoran, please, please throw away any preconceived notions you have of what others say about being in a relationship because if your Sakura-radar is 'too strong for your own good,' then I love you all the more for it."

Silence followed this extraordinary pronouncement. Sakura gave him a determined look, willing him to believe every word that she said, but he could barely begin to process how grand a gesture her assertion was.

"I...see," was his intelligent response. She sighed.

"So will you stop worrying about it now?"

Truth be told, Syaoran couldn't be happier after listening to Sakura's rant, but he didn't know how to express it because he needed more time to really soak it all in. So instead, he sat there and stared at her for a few more seconds before she rolled her eyes and got up out of her seat.

"Alright, put it behind you. What can I do to help you stop thinking about it all?" she asked.

"I-I don't know," he said, startled by her sudden movement away from him. He felt her warmth leave him and was distinctly disappointed by it.

"Well I think I have an idea," she said, before disappearing through the bedroom door. After a few seconds she reemerged wearing something definitely new and definitely not for anyone else's eyes. It was a pretty shade of pale pink and was rather difficult to tell where the lace ended and where her skin began—not that he minded. "How about this?"

Syaoran gulped, feeling the heat rising up in his neck.

"That'll do."

—

Now that the Sakura-radar issue had been settled, Syaoran felt much more at ease over the next few days leading up to finals week. This worked out quite well since he had enough on his plate without him worrying that there was something wrong with him as a boyfriend. He had allowed Sakura's words to comfort him the last time they'd discussed it and he hadn't felt the need to bring it up again ever since.

At the very beginning of his last formal lecture, however, he got a text from Sakura.

"Hi, little wolf. I just heard back about the internship. I'll tell you about it when you get home."

He hated it when she did this. She didn't say if it was good news or bad news and she had the gall to send it at the start of his class, knowing full well he would have to wait with the prospect of her potentially good or potentially bad update over his head.

Breathe. You worry too much. Besides, he knew she probably just wanted to keep him in the loop and that if she didn't text him now, she'd probably forget later on and he would then be a little offended that she didn't mention anything at all. Everything is going to be all right.

Being the last class of the year, Syaoran forgave himself for letting his attention slip here and there. His mind kept wandering over to Sakura and hoping everything went well and that she had gotten the job. Even though it was just a summer internship, it would be her first formal position that was close to being a real job. It was worth celebrating if it turned out well. What with Daidouji texting them last week about how she had landed a prestigious fashion internship, it was beginning to dawn on him that they were all growing up.

When class ended, Syaoran's initial instinct was to run home and make sure Sakura's news was good news, but then he stopped himself.

It's okay. Everything will be all right. Just take your time going home at a relaxed pace.

This was healthy. He was still overprotective, sure, but he didn't need to freak out over every little thing. She was going to be fine even if she didn't get the internship. Letting out a deep breath he didn't notice he had been holding, he set off for home.

"Tadaima," he announced as he entered through the front door and took off his shoes. Sakura didn't respond but he could hear her movement in the kitchen. It was already 4:30pm so he figured she'd gotten a head start on cooking dinner.

Sniff.

He stopped in his tracks and looked up toward the kitchen. Did he just hear what he thought he had heard? Narrowing his eyes, he peeled his ears and listened for it again.

Sniff, sniff.

Another sniffle. And then another.

Only one thing registered in his mind: Sakura was crying! And if she was crying, then nothing was going to be all right.

"Sakura?"

Heart racing with anxiety, he charged into the kitchen at once and cornered her.

"Sakura? Sakura, are you okay?" he demanded as she turned around to face him.

"Syaoran?"

He pulled her in and hugged her tightly. "Don't cry, Sakura. If it's because you didn't get the internship, it's going to be okay. There are plenty of other opportunities out there and that company probably didn't deserve you anyways, so for the love of Kami-sama, don't cry!"

"H-hoe?"

He pulled away to inspect her face. She blinked and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I know it's disappointing, but it's gonna be okay," he said, cradling her cheeks in the palm of his hands.

"W-what? Syaoran, I'm..I'm cutting onions."

"That's fine, but please don't be upset about the internsh—"

He broke off, looking down at the onions on the cutting board next to them and back to her face. She gave him a pointed look as she watched him put two and two together.

Oh.

He blinked. Twice. Her hand covered her mouth as her cheeks puffed out in suppressed mirth.

"So you're not actually crying?" he asked, feeling silly but nonetheless relieved as she, unable to hold it in any longer, broke into laughter at his premature outburst.

"Well, now I am," she joked, wiping her eyes again. His lips twitched into a reluctant grin—there was no way he could stop himself from smiling when Sakura was this cheerful. "Oh, my dear little wolf, you are too cute, you know that?"

Putting down the knife, she rubbed the top of his head, significantly ruffling his hair, and then leaned back to admire the effect.

"So since you haven't asked yet," she said. "The reason I decided to cook a big meal was to surprise you because I'm celebrating—can you guess?—the fact that I got accepted!"

"Oh, thank God," he said, wrapping his arms around her again and holding her close. "I always knew you could do it. Congratulations."

She giggled into his shoulder and snaked her arms around his waist.

"I think I really do need my Sakura-radar checked though," he grumbled into her ear.

"Syaoran," she said, pushing him out of the hug and giving him a reproachful glare. "What did we say the other night?"

"That we'd leave the subject behind because, well, you love me," he said. "But—"

"Correct," she interrupted, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him closer until they were nose to nose. "Because that onion-scare back there doesn't change a thing."

"Okay, but—"

"Oh, Syaoran, dear, now you're just talking too much," she said before leaning forward and covering his lips with her own.

Sakura was right, he thought to himself as she led him over to the couch and pulled him onto her. There was nothing wrong with his Sakura-radar being too strong. It had led him to fall in love with her in the first place after all and it never failed to push him towards the right direction.

Well, that and, he thought vaguely as she tugged on his hair to lock his lips back onto hers, she was certainly very persuasive.

-el fin-

Thanks everyone for your support and reviews. I love you all so much.

If anyone was curious, here was the prompt I found online that I used: "Imagine Person A of your OTP walking into the kitchen, only to find Person B in tears. Person A immediately rushes to Person B's side, fretting over them, consoling and asking what happened. Surprised, Person B explains they were simply cutting onions."