Sasuke is winter.

Cold and fierce but still beautiful in a way only winter can be. He is unyielding and graceful and his arrival excites and terrifies people in equal measure. He is winter, loneliness combined with despair. Pride looks good on him; the way snow does when it covers all.

Winter is death and sadness, much like Sasuke has known because in winter family gathers together. There is love and warmth and comfort and a sense of eternity. It's home and home is other people.

The people he had lost and the ones he is now lucky to have.

Sai paints. He uses dark shades of blue and grey. He uses black and white because he is both. White for the innocence that was so brutally taken away from him. Black for the darkness that had overtaken his soul, for mourning, for grief, for the wails of despair that never escaped him.

People respect winter.

Fear it.

Marvel at it.

Envy it even.

After all, nothing is more magnificent than how the sun shines, making ice glimmer.

Sasuke is winter, Sai reflects.

Because of everything he was, is and could be.

Winter is love.

...

Sakura is spring.

Pretty, soft, outspoken, brimmed with potential but also loud (it's needed, to wake-up the world after the slumber winter had casted). She is strong, in body and spirit, looking to heal and mend everyone and everything. She is spring, rebirth, and new beginnings.

Spring is deceitful with its beauty and illusions. Seemingly timeless even when you know it isn't. It's wonder and miracles. Buds blossom into flowers, insects become butterflies. Spring is the season of hope.

Something she didn't use to have.

Sai paints with pastels, for the times she had quietly watched him as he drew and for the pleasant smiles she generously gave, for her insecurities and the tears she often shed. He paints with vibrant colours because the green in her eyes it's too alive to ignore and the pink in her hair too rare not to smile at.

People wait for spring all their lives.

They become better.

They stop fearing change.

They dare to dream.

Nothing is more enticing than having cherry blossoms surround you with a gentle breeze.

Sakura is spring, Sai reflects.

Because she is proof beauty and strength can exist at the same time.

Spring is happiness.

...

Naruto is summer.

Bright to a painful degree, welcoming to the point the evillest villains turn into allies and warm, enough to burn. He is cheerful because he has known times of numbness, of pain; persistent, determined, sticking out like a sore thumb. He is the desire to live, passion and adventure combined in the most unique of ways.

Summer is exuberance, boldness, bravery. But most of all? Freedom. Something summer gives and gives, never takes. It's feeling invincible, like you are standing at the top of the world, knowing nothing can touch you. It's the season when nobody is alone.

Once upon a time, that's all he ever was.

Sai paints. With baby blue, white, yellow, red, and orange, green, and purple because summer has it all and there was a time when Naruto had nothing. He is hesitant to use black, brown, and grey but then he thinks Naruto had walked in the darkness once and would do it again and again for his precious people.

People need summer like they need air to survive.

They crave it.

They have fun.

The word 'impossible' stops existing for a while.

You never do feel more alive than when you go for a swim in the ocean late at night.

Naruto is summer, Sai reflects.

Because nobody else would dare to outshone the sun.

Summer is powerful.

...

Kakashi is autumn.

Autumn means busy schedules, working until late and working hard. Autumn is the satisfaction when you see the result, the fruits that the seeds you had planted have become. It is filled with melancholy and the past gets closer than ever to the present. It's rough edges and fine details.

Autumn is regrets, wishing for second chances, for peace, for eternal slumber. Autumn is also desperately clutching to the last of everything. Last rays of sunshine, last remaining leaves in trees, last days of freedom before duty chains you down. It's isolation and perfectionism but more chaotic and messier than any other season.

He is loyal and not capable of being read. There are just too many shades and he is the winner at looking underneath the underneath. He is adapting and quiet, suffering, wearing twice as many masks as the different coloured leaves.

Autumn is the season of gratitude, appreciation, protectiveness.

For the times he didn't know what truly mattered.

Sai paints. He goes for the classics. Nothing too fancy but just enough to stir curiosity. He leaves much to the imagination but makes sure the painting says all the things Kakashi-san never got to say. A touch of mystery there and one of honour. Teamwork reflecting in the way four birds fly together. One is yellow, the other is pretty and the last is late.

People admire autumn.

They wander.

They heal.

They thrive.

Nothing else shows how lovely is to let things go.

Kakashi is autumn, Sai reflects.

Because he learned how to silence his demons and dance with his angels.

Autumn is enduring.