Sakura and Syaoran in fifty sentences. A love that spans universes. Spoilers for current chapters, written for 1sentence at LJ.
Syaoran served coffee in the mornings to all workers and inhabitants of Clow Castle, but only Sakura thanked him and called him by his name, in an loving fashion: "Syaoran-kun".
Syaoran breathed in the crisp air of the Clow ruins and wondered if one day Sakura would stand alongside him and do the same, the sound of her inhaling and exhaling making the sweetest song.
During dress-up, Sakura said, "Bring me the head of Syaoran Reed!" in a fake-serious voice with a pout on her face as if expecting it at any minute; the confused look on page-Syaoran's face became a running joke for many weeks to follow.
When they had to bury Sakura's first pet behind the castle, she cried on Syaoran's shoulder and broke the last barrier between them.
Every morning, no matter the season, Sakura sprung out of bed lithe as a butterfly; these days, Syaoran sprung out with her, and went to bed at the same time.
They drank tea together, watching the sun settle behind the hills in the darkening sky, and in that moment were closer than ever before.
If it was considered taboo for a boy in Syaoran's position to care for, even love his princess, then social laws be damned; Syaoran's feelings were the most forbidden of them all.
It took him a bit of time, but Syaoran carved for Sakura a wooden recorder with her name engraved as a present and resolved to give it to her the next time they met; the next day Sakura couldn't even remember his name.
It rained in their first dimensional trip, outside Yuuko's shop; it echoed the feeling in his heart, that he may never see his Sakura's smile again.
Roses were for the living and cherry blossoms were for the dead; if this was foreshadowing, then Syaoran would have none of it.
They clung to each other as they flew through the vortex, grateful for something warm and solid to hold on to.
The first time Sakura woke up, in the first dimension entered, there was a glimmer of something in her eye as she saw Syaoran; whether it was recognition was unknown, but it gave the boy hope for the first time in so long though he knew better.
They were always there for each other, the safety net should the other fall; no balancing act could do it better than them.
The taste and texture and bite of apples were different - from Hanshin to Jade to Outo and beyond - but they were still delicious in their mouths, and the two always held hands as they rushed from one tree to another, tasting its foreign yet familiar fruit.
Countless times Syaoran threw himself into danger's path for the sake of his princess, and her heart would seize up with despair until he emerged safely back to her waiting arms.
If there's one thing that bugs Kurogane the most, its the way Sakura and Syaoran gaze at each other adoringly, then look away with flushed faces, as if to get too close meant to lose everything between them.
Syaoran thought, at first, twas duty that kept him bound to his princess; with each of Sakura's smiles, he realized it was something else, something mysterious that could tear them apart as well as keep them together.
The fire that burned inside Syaoran understood better than he did the boy's feelings, and burned all the brighter for it, if it meant defending that special someone.
There were so many doors in the castle, it took the two a whole week to go through them all and explore what they held; the same curiosity from that time blazed through them as they stepped through Mokona's 'door' into the vortex yet again.
A drunken Fai showed Sakura how flexible he was by rolling his arms around in their sockets, and as Syaoran watched he tried to do the same; in his pain, he learned what jealousy felt like.
If flying was throwing yourself at the ground and missing, it explained the weightless feeling he always felt when he looked at his princess; when bruised and battered, she was there for him, always his wings.
Everything tasted differently, but when Sakura playfully fed a little sashimi to Syaoran, it suddenly became the most perfect food in all of the dimensions.
Kurogane stamped one foot impatiently as they waited for Sakura to come out of her room; when she came out in her new evening gown (picked out by Fai and Mokona), they had to perform CPR on Syaoran, passing out at the sight.
He tried to stay serious like Kurogane, a grave expression on his face, but one glance at Sakura sticking out her tongue and going cross-eyed made Syaoran burst out laughing (during a formal dinner, no less!).
Every time a new world made them welcome, Syaoran felt guilty; 'Don't welcome us like that, we're just here to take your most precious artifact and go' he'd think, and it took Sakura's smile from across the crowd of people to ebb the burdensome feeling.
Sakura knows of a hollow spot in her mind, a gap where memories used to be, and all the memories she makes with Syaoran and the others never seem enough to fill it.
She looked so pretty in her Piffle outfit, she often asked Syaoran if he felt feverish as his face seemed permanently crimson.
The blade shone in the air, a mixture of metal and fire; that combined with the look in his eye frightened Sakura every time.
His eyes turned dark, an ugly hateful tone, and Sakura wondered yet again where had Syaoran - her Syaoran gone- and who had he left in his place.
Kurogane doubted the stability of Syaoran's mind after the library, and hoped Sakura's heart would keep him whole; it was a foolish wish.
The rain was like poison and Syaoran was again thankful that his princess was not conscious to feel the acid burns coming from the sky in droplets.
They all had secrets: it was Syaoran's that nearly killed them all, and Sakura's that saved them.
It was the color of her eyes, and it haunted him in his dreams as he slept in that place outside of time, along with the name he breathed like oxygen: "Sakura-san".
Fei Wong's words flickered like a snake's tongue in his ear, and Syaoran felt fear like he had never felt before.
In the beginning, there was light and wonderment and a feeling of being content; now there was only a single thing, a pale, delicate hand stretched out to an unfeeling boy, reaching for the past yet pulling for the future.
There is no honor in the way 'this' Syaoran takes one of the feathers, or how 'this' Syaoran pushes his princess away, and in a single moment the world cracks in half.
Her body felt light in Fai's arms, as if something was missing, something very important that he couldn't replace; he was the wrong boy with the mismatched eyes.
One of her feathers wasn't lost, but was being kept in Acid Tokyo - Sakura only wished that 'he' would understand.
She knew that Syaoran, her Syaoran, was somewhere in the darkness where light and warmth could not reach him; she'd strive to provide him that light even if it ended her own.
The feeling of being alone without Syaoran beside her, the feeling of desperation to save her someone special; this feeling was old and familiar and it would not be the last time for her.
The feeling of being useful for once as she rode out of Tokyo on her scooter was new to Sakura, after what seemed like years of hibernation.
Her precious memory was back in Tokyo, keeping hundreds upon hundreds of innocent people alive; this one act kept Sakura going even when the next ones hurt her and everyone around her, because it was necessary to do so.
Everyone noticed something strange about Sakura in Infinity, and the blinders they put up to make themselves keep going failed to diminish the problem - the absence of her prince.
She ended the war between her emotions the only way she knew: she told stories to forget the pain, stories of a princess and her prince in a faraway castle, and they were happy and had a storybook ending.
The world of Celes was covered in snow; if it weren't for the dire situations, the two would have made snow angels and built snowmen like old times.
It was always winter - howling, skin-biting winter - in Celes; it matched the bitter disposition of Syaoran, and the inside of his hidden heart.
To Syaoran, lying under the tree in Kurogane's world, Sakura finally looked at peace; to the others, she looked peacefully deceased.
If he regretted anything, anything at all, it was not being able to say good-bye.
When it was summer in Clow, the time for eating roasted sweet potatoes and drinking tea under a heavy moon and wearing one's best jackets to the fair, he was holding his broken princess' body as it swirled and ebbed with the winds
Syaoran clasped the single sakura blossom in his hand and wept, for it felt like his life had ended in the worst way possible, and he was alone again.