This was actually written last year. However, because I thought it would be weird to post a New Year's story in spring (which was when I found it again on my computer), I held onto until now. A drawing accompanies this oneshot of Sakura's outfit. I care fairly little for my own appearance, but outfit designs are a small hobby of mine. I'll post it on my dA when I finish.

Have a happy new year!

Disclaimer: Do not own Naruto.

It was a snowy night when Sakura met Kakashi in the middle of the road. It was New Year's Eve; not close enough to remotely start the countdown, but still far enough that the sun had firmly set over the horizon and stars twinkled in the clear dark sky. Both were returning home for the night: Kakashi from a party; and Sakura from her shift at the hospital that had closed its doors for the night. He paused by a tree, waiting for something, and realizing what he was waiting for, Sakura took Kakashi's invitation and ran up to his side.

Once there, they made small talk, catching up on each other's lives. Their schedules rarely afforded them time to meet with the other, and other than running into each other just long enough to say "hi," they never saw each other. As they talked, Sakura noticed Kakashi frequently flexed his fingers under his gloves. This winter was one of the coldest on record and there were many cases of chilblains and frostbite this season—more than usual—and Sakura cautioned him on keeping his hands warm. Kakashi merely shrugged his shoulder.

"My family's always had a history of poor circulation. Whether I keep my hands warm or not makes little difference. My hands are always cold," he told her as he continued to stroll, his visible eye never leaving his book.

Sakura stopped in her tracks for a second, caught off-guard by Kakashi's divulgence of his family medical history. In the back of her mind, she debated whether or not it was because he trusted her medical ability to such an extent that he would let her know of his history for future treatments, or if it was just the quickest way of explaining this to her. Either way, Sakura was mildly flattered and pleased that it proved her theory about the mysterious copy-Nin: if anyone ever wanted to know about Kakashi, all one had to do was listen.

Beaming slightly, she peered up at Kakashi. Even seven years later, Kakashi still managed to tower over her like an old oak tree towers over a sapling—a fact that made her feel as like the genin who first met him.

However, she was secure enough in her skill to know that she'd matured from the whiny, complacent girl and little could ruin her current mood. Wondering if he shared her excitement—Kakashi's medical history was always a bit of excitement. From what she'd seen of his file, he had enough stories for five ninja twice his age—she looked around his shoulder to see his expression. However, it was nothing what she expected. The placating (and slightly condescending smile) she had grown up with was gone, and in its place was a slight frown. His dark eyes, typically warm and slightly cocky, were sad and tired; the white light of the moon stark on his features. He looked worn—from the party, from work, from life—she didn't know. Perhaps because he thought having cold hands was a bad thing—that it reflected on his character to say Kakashi himself was cold; in the back of her mind, Sakura had a feeling she was right.

"I have a theory!" Sakura announced suddenly, startling Kakashi from the book he had been engrossed in. Half turning, he looked at Sakura with shock and confusion, as if she was a mad woman for breaking the unspoken rule between them that had stood in place since they first met: when Kakashi is reading, no sudden noises.

Completing the turn, he fully looked at her for the first time that night. She was wearing a pair of leggings—plum, brown, maroon, chocolate, something like that—tucked into a pair of boots with a skirt, a pink jacket, and a lime green scarf that didn't complement, but wasn't garish on her either. On her head was a knit cap with tassels hanging past the two small buns she's put her hair into, while underneath her jacket peaked out a sweater with enough colors to at least sting his eyes a little. Add in the bright moonlight that shined on her like a spotlight, and she did look like a mad woman.

Kakashi shook his head to himself; in the back of his mind, he told himself he'd never understand women or fashion trends before turning his head to hide his chuckle. Turning his head, he saw Sakura still standing there with a confused look with half of the determination she had five seconds ago. Inclining his head, he motioned that they would be moving on. Sakura ran to catch up and they started on the path once more.

"And that would be?" he asked, half-rhetorical, half-inviting as he turned his head slightly to look at her from the corner of his eye. Sakura, trailing behind slightly, smiled up at him.

"Those with the coldest hands generally have the warmest hearts."

Kakashi chuckled under his breath, smoky clouds of vapor escaping from his mask. Though he could've easily disproven the claim with Orochimaru, Kakashi tucked away the snarky, sarcastic side of him in favor of a quiet smile. Readjusting his scarf, he closed his book and returned his hands to his pockets.

"Alright Sakura, you win," he said with a smile under his mask. Sakura, in return, grinned up at him, running to catch up.