A/N: This work is a result of reading Kakashi x Sakura stories for the last month. My other fanfic is on hiatus so I hope this one will allow me to brush the dust off and see if I still have what it takes to be a semi-decent writer.

One main thing I'd like to point out (without spoiling anything) is the plot has nothing to do with the actual painting or the song. Yeah, there's a song out there with the same name by Lil Wayne; check it out – it has such an interesting message. Anyway, I titled my work "Mona Lisa" because of what it symbolizes. The portrait appears to be smiling sweetly at first, only to adopt a mocking sneer or sad stare the longer you look. "Mona Lisa" is also known as 'the happy one' which makes sense because of well…her smile. As the story progresses, I hope you start to see why I chose the name.

Timeframe takes place after the Fourth Shinobi War. Kakashi will still have his Sharingan because he's just sexier with it than without it. Oh, and he's five years older than Sakura. All other events are canon-divergence except for a few minor things. If you don't like these changes, then please move along. No one likes bullies.

Special thanks to my beta-reader PhoebeWeatherfieldx for providing suggestions and not laughing at my idea. I recommend you all to read herstory "Phoenix from the Flame" – it's just too good not to. I also want to thank my other beta-reader Kamil the Awesome for correcting any spelling/grammatical errors.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Mona Lisa

Chapter 1: A (Faded) Smile

Sakura was tired.

She was tired of being underestimated.

She was tired of being rejected.

She was tired of her heart being broken.

The wave of self-pity and disappointment she encountered each time she hoped for a different outcome, a better outcome, whenever she opened herself to others—and for others—left her vulnerable, scared, and empty.

When Sasuke left her on that cold bench to walk the path of revenge, she fell into a brief depression. Her pre-pubescent mind could not and did not understand the insurmountable hatred the young Uchiha had for his brother. There was no room for her, or for anyone else, in his heart. That was something Sakura came to understand, years after that fateful separation. Still she could close her eyes and remember that night, remember the following day—and remember the ensuring failure that pushed her generation to grow stronger.

She now lived with the truth that her idea of love was nothing more than an illusion. It was ironic, for she had always had a fair talent for genjutsu.

Or Sakura thought she knew better, now. She was nineteen, years into what some would call a storied shinobi career. Sakura believed she had grasped the true nature of love, of romance, and what it entailed. What it meant for her, a young woman who had so much to give, who had so much to offer despite the blood and sweat and tears she sacrificed to reach where she was now.

How foolish, wrong, and stupid she was.

A man had broken her once more. She allowed him in because he was her former teacher. She had thought she could trust him, after everything they had been through. She allowed him in because, like her, he was hurt. He ached in places that needed attention and comfort. She allowed him in because, for as much as she wished otherwise, she truly did love him and she doesn't know if she ever could not. Sakura loved him with all of her body, mind, and soul.

And now he had taken that from her too.

Tsunade was about to uncork her newest bottle of sake when she was interrupted by a knock upon her door. All of her meetings that day were over and ANBU was fully aware they were never to disturb her at this time unless it was a critical emergency. She grimaced at the door, and with a huff decided it was the best choice to grant entry to whoever thought it was a good idea to interfere with her happy hour.

"Come in!" Tsunade barked, shuffling her beloved alcohol back into its cabinet.

The office door opened. Sakura entered, face solid with determination and strode forward.

Watching her former apprentice enter, Tsunade's anger faded. Her scowling demeanor was replaced with a smile that reached her warm brown eyes, focused upon her unexpected guest.

And then her eyes fell upon the two large travel bags strapped on Sakura's shoulders. Tsunade took in more of the woman before her—the absence of her hitaite, commonly wrapped around her head to keep her pink bangs back, the lack of her red blouse or Chūnin vest. Instead, Sakura wore a plain shirt, fitted and the color of the evening sky, along with camo pants akin to what her ANBU wore. Though as always, there were ninja sandals strapped to her feet.

Sakura stopped before the desk and quietly handed a heavy envelope to the Godaime. Tsunade's brows crinkled together, glancing at the envelope, back to her protégé, and back to the envelope where her brown eyes settled.

Tsunade remained in place. She didn't want to take the envelope. After all, she had once been in Sakura's place, her own teacher in the very same chair.

"You promised." Sakura inhaled sharply, drawing Tsunade's gaze back up. Jade eyes narrowed at the Hokage. There was no fear, no restraint, in those eyes.

It was expected. Tsunade had failed her, and in doing so, had taken another piece of a woman who already lost so much.

A long-drawn-out sigh escaped the Godaime as she forced herself to seriously look upon the younger medic.

"Are you sure about this? There are other ways to face your problems. Running away isn't one of them. We both know I tried to do so…and it doesn't work."

Tsunade's voice was firm but there was an inflection of remorse and guilt. She knew Sakura could not have noticed it. The girl was too well trained to make such a simple mistake.

Sakura only nodded, one heavily marked with absolute resolve. Tsunade watched Sakura turn away, approach the doors, glance back one final time, and then leave. It wasn't until her chakra signature was beyond the village that Tsunade realized the envelope remained upon her desk.

Tsunade touched it once, in two years. She put it away, next to that bottle of sake she had planned to open, and left them both in hope once more a fine young medic would return home.

Branches dipped a hair or a trace whenever Sakura placed weight upon them. She leapt from branch to branch as though she were engaged in a game of hopscotch. Her passing through the massive thicket of trees beyond the village's border was quick, and quicker as she added a new burst of speed.

She knew her departure without alerting the two eternal Chūnin on gate duty – Izumo and Kotetsu – had been a massive success. Sakura briefly wondered if they would still be there when Tsunade retired. Would they still man the gate when Naruto finally achieved his dream and became Hokage?

Tonight would be the final time she would ever see them again.

Sakura had left the Hokage's office without a word, without shedding a tear.

She was bidding her silent farewells to those she was leaving behind—to Tsunade, who trained her; to Naruto and Sasuke, her first team; to Ino, who had stood up for her as children; to Sai, who had become a dear friend; to the entire village of Konoha, where she had in many ways flourished; and to him, the one who had injured her heart for the final time.

She left to protect her heart from further pain. She scoffed slightly, remembering the words of the man who had once destroyed the village. She was leaving Konoha, permanently, to save what was left of the hollow shell she had become—the hollow shell of a woman people had known as Sakura Haruno.

Ten Months Ago

The mission was A-rank and specifically required a two-man squad. Tsunade, after a quick study of the parameters, selected the best duo for the mission—Konoha's top field medical ninja and the infamous Copy-nin. Their objective was to locate the Earth Daimyō's missing, presumed kidnapped daughter—Iwa denied that she was still in their nation, but the Daimyō was convinced otherwise and so reached out to another village—and to deliver her back to her father, safe and sound. It was a simple, though politically significant search and rescue mission.

Or so everyone in the know had believed.

Sakura tugged the brim of her hood in attempt to cover her forehead from the sun's penetrating gaze. She was dismayed to learn it did little to shelter her from the sweltering heat.

She groaned, wiping at a bead of sweat forming upon her brow. This was their fourth break in under an hour. Apparently, your bladder shrunk the older you became. Sakura, being the knowledgeable (and talented) medic she was, knew better than to overload herself.

She had warned her former sensei not to consume too much water early on the morning they were set to find the missing daughter. Unsurprisingly, he didn't listen.

So there she was, bottom plopped over the least jagged of rocks she could find, waiting for her partner to finish urinating near a volley of other rocks that offered little, if any, coverage for his manly parts.

"Have you seen 'rock rain' before?" Sakura asked, tone laced with mild annoyance. She heard the whooshing sound of what could only be pant zippers. She counted to five in her head and as if on cue Kakashi appeared beside her with his trademark expression of indifference in tow.

"Do you know what it's like to get hit with rocks?" he answered as she watched the ends of his cape swish side to side with the tiniest of movements.

"It hurts."

Sakura rolled her eyes before getting on her feet, grabbing the backpack, and hurled it over her shoulders. "That wasn't exactly an answer," she glanced up at him under the hood. "Have you washed your hands?"

He glanced down, solitary eye smiling. "Don't need to."

The medic inside Sakura pulled her in front of her former sensei, giving him a pointed look.

"What do you mean you don't need to? It's common hygienic practice, Kakashi!"

Kakashi gave a lazy shrug. "If I touched myself then yes, I would wash my hands after." He then looked up and off to the side realizing his poor choice of words.

A mix between a gasp and a snort escaped Sakura. "Wha–what does that even mean?"

"Hands free. Would you like me to demonstrate?" the copy-nin replied, raising a visible brow. If he found any humor in his former student's reaction, Kakashi surely did not indicate it.

"H-how can you say that with such a straight face?" Sakura's cheeks flared hot pink as she struggled not to punch her sensei back across the border.

Kakashi raised a gloved finger and pointed at himself. "That's how I always look."

"As if I know when I've never seen your actual face!" Her voice had gone up by a few decimals. Why was she getting so worked up about this? It was probably the heat.

The silver-haired Jōnin feigned hurt. "I would never lie to you, Sakura."

He was mocking her now. At least that's how Sakura saw it.

"I'm not sharing my rice cakes with you when we get to Tsuchi no Kuni," she quipped finding she had nothing (mature) to say to the man. Before the conversation could go any further, the medic stormed off.

"You're going the wrong way."

Without a word, Sakura spun around and headed towards the opposite direction.

Kakashi followed shortly after with his favorite orange book in hand, using it as cover to hide the sheer amusement that colored his onyx orbs with something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Happiness.

A shame he had yet to realize that things would only get worse.

TBC