rating: K

disclaimer: i don't own naruto.

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41. together

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"Happy new years, anata!"

Donned in his cloak, the thick one that he often found himself accustomed to wearing, Sasuke's eyes peer over the rim of his teacup. His eyebrows relax, almost lackadaisically, and his eyes soften at the sight of his wife slipping on gloves with a blanket on her lap at the couch. His breaths are soft as the tea settles in. "Happy new years—" He glances at her but not really; more at the blanket than her tinged cheeks from the cold. "—Sakura."

He, slightly humored, notices that she's wearing her socks when she crosses the threshold to join him by the dining table, and she chooses the seat next to him to occupy. "Sarada hasn't woken up yet?"

She lacks the hairband and her hair is messy, but he thinks it's rather lovely. "Not yet." Sasuke sips at his tea. "I think she came home late." Or so he could recall. He came back late too since Boruto wanted an extra day to train before going home to spend time with his family today. He could see a plan churning behind Sakura's eyes, so he says, when he puts his tea down, "Let her sleep. She seemed tired."

Despite reluctantly complying, Sakura pouts. "But I wanted to spend today together!" Still, she relents. The early morning air seems rather cold; they could wait a bit before anything else. Sasuke thinks to himself how Sakura herself looks lazy today. "Oh well, we'll just have to entertain ourselves until she wakes up…"

"How do you reckon?" he indulges her, drumming his fingers along the cup.

"I…" Green eyes fluttering about, Sakura chuckles in earnest timidity. "...don't know."

They were not genin anymore; they cannot simply bully Kakashi to give them the day off and have him treat the team to warm ramen for lunch and yell at Naruto for piling the bill so high. None of that. It's hard to find things to do when Sakura's always been burdened with hospital duties and Sasuke was often off investigating.

He suggests after several awkward seconds of adverting eyes from her, "A walk?" Though, he still eyes her gloves and socks and wonders if he said the wrong thing. "But if you don't want to—"

"Sure," she simply answers, a smile brightening her face. "I'll go get ready!" As she straightens her back, she folds the blanket neatly to tuck on the couch. Sakura's socks provide the soles of her feet warmth as she practically glides down the hallway with a blissful heart.

Her happiness is not subtle to Sasuke and he's grateful that the first thing he smiled at for the new year is her.

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Her laughter spilling from her chilled lips, Sakura's gloved hand reaches up to poke a finger at her husband's hair that a few snowflakes found refuge on. "It's stuck in your hair!" With a batting motion, she lightly pats them off his head and avoids how he gives her an arched eyebrow for the unwarranted action. "Don't look at me like that… Did you want to be covered with snowflakes?"

"No," sighs Sasuke, not even mustering energy to banter back. And he leaves it at that—the silence that comes is nothing as beautiful as listening to her giggle. Sasuke buries his chin deeper into his scarf before he trudges onward, knowing that she will follow.

She does. "Then why are you pouting?"

How long has it been since he could talk to her like this? He denies with a firm, "I'm cold." She cannot see the smile behind his scarf.

"Mhm…" Catching up, Sakura hums, near suspiciously. "Then I guess I'll leave the next snowflake alone when it lands on you again." Walking next to him, her gaze goes from his head to his eyes in a matter of seconds. "Or the next few dozen."

Sasuke suddenly understands now why she asked him earlier to hold her blanket. That way, it occupies his only hand at his expense. Sneaky. "You seem to have all the time in the world to hold your own belongings again," he tells her, casual.

Hands clasped behind her back, he watches as she skips forward from him with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "But a gentleman doesn't go back on his word to hold a lady's things, now does he?" Especially if the lady in question is married to the aforementioned gentleman.

His eyes begin to roll. "Then I suppose I should do my part as a gentleman to look like a snowman while carrying your things because the lady deems it so?" He hears her laugh, and he really likes to hear it.

"Hey! I'm only not batting it off your head because of your initial reaction!" Her index finger points to him. "So really, it's your fault, mister!" Had she been closer, he knows she would poke him. Sometimes he wishes for his second arm to be back again. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"My apologies."

Eyes sparkling with good humor, she reaches up to brush off the snow that unfortunately piled on his head. He lets her do so this time. "That's better," Sakura coos jokingly. "This wouldn't have happened if you would just get a hat." She loosely gestures at her white beanie, somewhat smug. "Should I get you one next time I go shopping?"

He says nothing at first, only bothering to unravel the blanket he was holding to place it at her shoulders after his eyes catch the slightest shiver she gave off. "Don't," he refuses gently, his head shaking. "I'll deal with it."

They walk down the empty streets in silence, probably the result of exiting home too early in the morning. It's when they walk past a still-closed Ichiraku establishment when Sakura teases, "Then you'll have more snow on your head, you snowman."

"I'll deal with it," he repeats, faintly amused. Hats weren't really his thing anyway.

Strangely satisfied, Sakura smiles at him. He thinks the soft morning glow is pretty against her face. He notices that she smiles more often nowadays—he knows it's partially due to how Naruto let it slip that Sasuke was going to come home more often lately.

Abruptly, Sasuke pauses when he sees two children up ahead running in their direction. He can hear laughing, so he politely steps aside when they run past him, clad in thick sweaters, and their mother trying to catch up a few feet away. The children were so quick that their speed caused Sasuke's cloak to part—then Sakura gasps as she takes his lone hand when she sees it.

"You didn't wear any gloves this whole time?" she begins right after the mother of those children apologetically sped past them, her eyes searching for any signs of frostbite on his already-pale fingers.

He doesn't see what the problem is, but he knows these worries are genuine. "I'm used to it." Besides, his old gloves were a little battered at home right now. "Nothing to worr—"

"But I am worried!" Sakura finally half-whines, latching her hand on his and intertwining their fingers. "Do you see all these layers I have on? The layers those kids and their mother had on?"

He's pretty lucky that he got away with a scarf and his cloak over his usual attire; he had noticed from the beginning that she wanted to say something about his choice to overlook anything else to wear, but she didn't out of respect.

He notices her cheeks are tinged red and her grip on his fingers tightening, but her eyes are so bright from her stubbornness. So, he closes his fingers around hers and he exhales. "I did."

Her previous spunk fading, he notices she becomes a lot more timid when she glances at their hands again. "T-That's good! Next time, please try to wear your gloves and not just your scarf, okay?" She mutters, "I just get worried over you since you haven't been back in a while," but he can hear it anyways.

He smiles. "I'll try." But really, he thinks her hand is warmer than a pair of silly gloves.