Oops. Sorry for the delay, readers! I forgot what I originally wanted to use…sort of. Anyway, here's chapter 3, at last!

Warning: This chapter is unedited, so expect mistakes. I will correct them when I have the time. Thank you.

Disclaimer: What's the point of writing fan fiction if I own Card Captor Sakura? But since I don't, on with the story!

Recap:

"Are all these for Kinomoto-san?" Syaoran gawked in disbelief.

Tomoyo nodded energetically. "Yes!"

And then there was a resounding crash as Syaoran fell down, lost amid countless shopping bags.

Eriol gazed at the area where Syaoran was last spotted with a smile on his face. "That sure knocked him out like a light," he mused cheerfully.

"Li-kun daijoubu!" Sakura screamed, scrambling about in the hopes of searching for the boy.

Tomoyo and Eriol chuckled. They shared identical conniving looks on their faces. Having Kinomoto Sakura around would definitely change Syaoran's life…drastically.

---

Chapter 3

---

"Ooer."

Syaoran sighed. "Is that all you can say, Kinomoto-san?"

"Er."

The two teenagers stood knee-deep in the many shopping bags they had miraculously lugged home from the mall. Syaoran's muscles were screaming in protest long before they had reached his doorstep.

As he tried his best to wade through the sea of clothes, a new resolution wormed its way into his mind.

Never, EVER, let Daidouji Tomoyo bring Kinomoto shopping again.

"Gomen nasai?" Sakura tried, scrambling over a particularly big pile of garments.

"Gomen nasai, my ass," the boy muttered angrily under his breath. Aloud, he said, "Can you please organize your things? My living room is a mess."

Sakura blinked. "It is?"

"Take a look around."

It took her some time before she was able to comprehend his simple statement, and when she finally did, her only reaction was to blink stupidly at him.

"What…?" she mouthed.

Syaoran fell down comically onto the floor, cushioned by the various clothing scattered there. The impact caused some of the bedding to be thrown into the air.

There were some scrabbling noises as Sakura made her way desperately towards him. "Li-kun, daijoubu?"

Something soft landed on his face. Syaoran frowned beneath the thin fabric and lifted a hand to remove it.

His amber eyes widened as his brain worked at lightning speed, trying to digest the bad news he held in his hand. Oh no.

Somewhere within him, a bomb ticked away merrily, awaiting the moment to explode.

Three.

Two.

One.

KA-BOOM.

"KINOMOTO SAKURA, GET YOUR LINGERIE OUT OF MY LIVING ROOM THIS INSTANT!"

"HAI!"

And that, ladies and gentlemen, set Syaoran's new resolution in stone.

Never, ever, let Kinomoto Sakura go shopping again, Daidouji-san or no Daidouji-san.

….

Knock, knock.

"Um. Li-kun?"

"What is it?" he snapped, looking up from the magazine he was poring over. Could she not leave him alone?

Manners, Syaoran, manners….

Syaoran's throat rumbled as he fought to restrain an outburst of irritated and not-so-beautiful words from pouring out of his mouth. Boy, it was hard. And the fact that Miss Invader had the courtesy to litter his house with ladies' garments of all kinds was not helping.

Li Syaoran was extremely pissed off. Nevertheless, he had to control his anger. He must.

"May I come in?" Sakura's sweet voice sounded from outside the door.

Taking care not to smack the poor magazine onto the coffee table, Syaoran stood up and proceeded to welcome her into his room. His fingers rested on the doorknob rather hesitantly, unwilling to twist the brass knob.

He could almost picture her now, with her head cocked to the side and with a patient expression on her face, her emerald eyes the very picture of calamity. Her hands would be intertwined, as was her habit.

"Ne, Li-kun?" she tried again, knocking tentatively on the door.

Okay, breathe, Syaoran, breathe, he instructed himself. She's only a girl…a girl in his HOUSE.

The boy growled and kicked the wastepaper basket, which was conveniently positioned nearest to him. The poor basket toppled onto its side, spilling its contents.

"Li-kun, daijoubu?" Sakura sounded quite desperate. He could hear her voice tremble slightly as it broke.

A sigh left his lips and he frowned. Might as well let her in…she had been waiting long enough.

With that thought in mind, he wrenched the door open to meet a depressed Sakura in the eye.

"What do you want?" he asked. A glimmer of sorrow passed through Sakura's eyes.

She did the angelic look and widened her eyes adorably, making Syaoran gulp. Oh no…not this.

"Li-kun, will you forgive me?" she asked cutely, taking a step closer to him.

His throat felt dry. He felt his inability to speak very much, especially since that meant he was rendered helpless.

"Please?"

"Aa…I…"

Sakura turned on her unbeatable puppy-dog eyes, forcing Syaoran to surrender.

"Uh…why don't you come in?" he said lamely, trying to cover his stuttering. "And have you cleared the hallway?"

His shoulders relaxed when she nodded mutely, watching him intently in a way that made him squirm. Who knew that girls had that much power?

"Demo…" she trailed off. Syaoran tensed up again. What was she going to say?

Sakura beckoned him to follow her and led him to the storeroom. Syaoran was puzzled. Why lead him here?

"What on earth…" he sputtered, staring incredulously at the humungous pile of clothes there. The poor storeroom was filled to bursting with them.

"…there isn't enough space," Sakura finished, gesturing at the mountain of garments. Poor Syaoran was gaping like a fish out of water.

"What are we going to do with all this?" he said at last, tearing his eyes away from the clothes.

"I was hoping that you would come up with a solution," she said sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head with an idiotic grin plastered on her face.

Silence fell, lying like a heavy blanket between them.

"You're impossible," Syaoran sighed, shaking his head. This caused his wayward hair to brush his face, adding to his charm. Most surprisingly, Sakura appeared unmoved by his looks, unlike the majority of the female population. Now that was unusual, and it piqued Syaoran's interest and curiosity. Not that he liked being chased, mind you.

"Help?" she murmured as she slung an arm around his. The boy turned a dark red colour. His skin tingled under her touch. She was warm and she provided a comforting presence, true; but that did not change the fact that she was a girl.

Wait. What was he thinking! She, provide warmth? No, no, no.

Girls should be avoided at all costs. Syaoran shuddered involuntarily as he remembered the way his four sisters treated him at home.

"Ne, come with us, Syaoran!"

"Iie!" Syaoran struggled hard against his sisters' grip, but four older girls were apparently more than enough to match his meagre strength, proving his effort futile.

"Now sit," Fuutie commanded happily, pushing him down onto a stool.

"Nee-san!"

"Stay still, Syaoran, unless you want makeup smeared all over your face!" His sister commanded, placing her hands on her hips. Behind her, the remaining three siblings advanced slowly. All of them held make-up accessories and wore identical evil smiles on their faces. They even had the same glint in their eyes!

"Now close your eyes…"

"I'm not your dolly!" Syaoran protested angrily, trying to stand up. The stool he was sitting on fell onto its side with a deafening crash.

"Syaoran…!" Fuutie said dangerously. The girl towered over him, looking very intimidating. "Sit still and let us practice on you, OR ELSE."

Poor Syaoran gulped and nodded meekly, not trusting himself to speak.

All four of his sisters crowded around the stool, hiding sly intentions beneath their sweet smiles…

Syaoran shuddered. Yup, girls are definitely to be avoided at all costs. Sakura's soft touch brought out all the repulsion he had buried deep in his chest, causing a nova blast.

"Get away from me!" he spat. He jerked his arm away, glaring at her. Unfortunately, his actions caused Sakura to lose her footing and she fell backwards. Her cry of surprise alerted him to his mistake, but it was too late.

With a sickening 'thunk', Sakura's head collided with the armrest of the sofa, rendering her unconscious. A soft moan escaped her lips just before her body went limp on the floor.

Syaoran's eyes widened. He was rooted to the spot, seemingly frozen. The sight of the girl's unmoving form scared him. Why? Why didn't she move? Couldn't she?

"No," he whispered, dropping down to his knees beside her. "Kinomoto-san, are you alright?"

On impulse, he slipped an arm under her and brought her closer to his body. Sakura's head lolled loosely, lifelessly. Her silky brown hair draped itself on his arm, brushing it with a gentleness that felt rare to him.

Syaoran's brow creased in anxiety. "Kinomoto-san, wake up," he coaxed gently, hoping to shake her out of oblivion. It didn't work.

Something thick and warm trickled slowly down his arm, filling him with a sense of foreboding. His grip on her fragile torso tightened slightly. No, please no….

He froze at the sight of it.

Blood. Fearfully, he traced it back to where it came from – the back of Sakura's head.

….

Syaoran faced frantically up and down the eerily silent corridor. His every step rang shrilly in his ears, torturing him mentally for causing an innocent harm. Every so often he would glance anxiously at the light above the surgery room door, looking away when he saw that it was still glowing.

He felt as though it was his fault. Scratch that, he knew he was at fault. He was the reason Sakura was behind that accursed door, unconscious and unmoving.

Snarling, he slammed his fist into the nearest wall, shocking those in the vicinity. A blinding pain seared up his arm at the impact, attacking his nerves with bolts of lightning. It hurt, but the boy was oblivious to it.

Kinomoto must have had been through more pain than him, anyway….

"Excuse me, sir," a doctor coughed. Syaoran looked up grudgingly, only to allow a spark of hope when he saw the man in white.

"How is she faring, doctor?" he asked anxiously.

"She suffered a concussion," the latter replied. He looked grim, and that served to deepen Syaoran's feeling of unease.

"And…?"

The doctor sighed. "Blood has clotted in her brain, and I'm afraid that she has to undergo surgery to remove it if her condition does not improve."

"Do it then," Syaoran urged. He felt so responsible for her condition. He was the reason she was in a coma, after all.

"But -" the doctor hesitated, as though unsure of his next course of action.

"But…?"

"We need a family member to sign some papers before we can do so," he answered lamely. "And you are not family, are you? You don't look like her."

Syaoran slumped against the whitewashed wall, defeated. True, he wasn't a family member, and the hospital required the signature of one. Why was the procedure so tedious?

The doctor observed him intently for a while. Finally, he said, "You care a lot for her, don't you? Are you her partner?"

Startled, Syaoran looked up to meet his kind azure eyes. The man was by no means young. Wrinkles had found their way to the corners of his eyes and his cheeks sagged slightly. Despite that, his eyes still twinkled as merrily as those of a young man, free of worries and regrets.

"No," he said finally, standing up straight. "She's just…a friend."

The doctor's eyes danced mischievously. "I see. Just a friend?"

"Yes. Just that, nothing more." Only a friend….

Kinomoto is but a friend, nothing more.

Syaoran clenched his fist. Yes, that's right. Nothing but a friend. That was what she meant to him.

She was a friend.

END OF CHAPTER 3

….

Author's Notes:

I admit, it was a little rushed. I'll clean it up, I promise!

I'll try to update soon. But give me some motivation? –grins and holds out a hand for reviews-

Review please. Normal reviews, criticism, and yes, even flames are accepted. BUT. The flame must be reasonable okay? Don't send a review full of pretty words. Tell me my flaws.

Thank you. This lousy author is now signing out in case she forgets to wake up tomorrow morning.