Kakashi thought that you really should drink sake warm. He had heard people state that they liked it cold, or at least slightly chilled. But he had always liked the way it made his stomach all hot.
"What do you think, Sakura?"
She didn't answer, and he sighed. The day was cold, so his sake was as well. He sloshed it around in its flask. Some splashed out onto the snow, and Kakashi muttered a curse.
"Ah, sorry Sakura, dear. I shouldn't curse."
He was silent a moment, before bursting out in drunken laughter.
"Of course, you probably know every dirty word under the sun!"
It would be a lie to say that Kakashi was just a little drunk. The fact was he just couldn't seem to stop drinking. Wind tore against the trees, and they rattled like skeletons, moaning their sorrow.
Kakashi muttered something under his breath and pulled up his mask. It was night, and there were no stars in the sky. Dark, angry clouds had covered the moon's glowing face, casting the village in shadow.
Kakashi lay down, not feeling the cold, and something brushed against the small bit of his face that wasn't covered. He brought a shaking hand up, and grabbed the flower. It was a dried out cherry blossom, warm in his cold hand.
Kakashi remembered picking them in the spring, when they were in full bloom, right before Sakura had gone that that damn mission.
"Aren't they just beautiful?" Sakura murmured with a dreamy sigh. Kakashi chuckled.
"Yes, they are lovely."
He took a lock of her pink hair and tugged on it gently. She blinked in irritation, but a smile crept onto her face anyway.
"You're so annoying," she complained, giggling despite herself. He pulled the hair, until her face was inches from his.
"How rude," he said, right before kissing her. When he pulled away, she grabbed him in a hug.
"That was a sad kiss," she said, voice muffled by fabric. "How come?"
Kakashi rubbed the top of her head.
"You'll be careful, won't you?" He said, worry apparent in his heavy tone. "Please?"
Sakura looked up at him.
"Kakashi," she said softly, taking his hands. "It's only a C rank mission. All we have to do is keep an eye on a merchant."
He brushed a thumb against her cheek.
"I know," he said with a sigh. "I just have this feeling..."
Sakura kissed his nose.
"Don't worry," she said with a smile. "I'll be fine.''
Liar.
Kakashi had stuffed some of the blossoms into his pockets. He planned to let them dry out, and give them to Sakura when she returned. But summer came and went, and the leaves were just starting to die when they were given the news.
She had been torn apart by wolves, protecting her teammates.
"She had already been injured," one of the people who had been with her had recounted, in tears. "And there were so many wolves. So many..."
Kakashi crushed the blossom in his gloved hand. He wanted to hate the people who had survived.
Who were they, compared to her? But there would still be grief, and had she survived, he would not have wanted her to suffer the guilt of living. Kakashi had plenty of experience in that.
He turned over, and embraced Sakura's gravestone.
Naruto, blanket tucked under the crook of his arm, made his way over to Sakura's grave. It wasn't all that long a walk, but it was made all the more exhausting by the fact that she wouldn't be there to greet him. Snow crunched beneath his feet.
He had been rudely awoken that morning by the news that Kakashi was missing again. He hadn't been seen since last night. Course, Naruto knew exactly where he was.
Sure enough, as Naruto rounded the bend, he saw his old sensei curled up in the snow right next to her grave. Naruto took a deep breath.
"Shit, Kakashi," he whispered. "You trying to die or something? You're lucky you didn't die of hypothermia."
Kakashi stirred with a groan. Why does snow have to reflect the light? He rubbed an aching head with frozen fingers, and blinked up at Naruto.
Naruto shook his head, looking older then he was, and threw a blanket over Kakashi, who sat up slowly. Naruto crouched down in front of him.
"Come one," he said kindly. "How about we go get some ramen? It'll warm you right up."
Kakashi made a face.
"When did you start acting all mature?" He asked, taking his old student's hand.
Naruto glanced at the grave.
"When I had to," he said, much too quietly. Naruto's face looked tired. He had seen too much death, and losing Sakura had been a crippling blow. He would have gray hairs before he was twenty five.
Kakashi stood, and then looked long and hard at the stone. This wasn't her. That grave was cold, and Sakura had been warm. Almost scalding, though that might have just been the fact that he loved her so much.
Still, in a rare moment of sentiment, Kakashi grabbed one of the cherry blossoms from his pocket, and set it atop the stone.
Then the two tired, aching men ambled off together, with heavy hearts, and heavier shoulders.