The Wishful Thinker Chapter 6: Force to be Reckoned with, a naruto fanfic

Welcome to Chapter 6 my beautiful readers. I hope you're prepared for some Gaara-Miyako moments because this chapter is literally where the foundation of their relationship will be established. :D

Thank you to all my reviewers, subscribers, followers, favorit-ers! You make me so happy.

Possible Trigger Warning: There is talk of biological warfare and plague, feel free to skip the description if it makes you uncomfortable, it will be the only section marked in bold italics

Thoughts are in italics

Memories/flashbacks are in bold italics

Bold if not for emphasis, is for my beginning/endnotes.

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Kishimoto and Miyako and this plot belong to me, as it should be.

Force to be Reckoned With

Miyako thought being trapped in a lamp for years and sometimes decades at a time was the epitome of boring. As it turns out, watching Genin attempt to find a scroll to pass an exam topped her boredom charts. Miyako didn't entirely know how it was possible, Naruto's antics were highly entertaining the first two days, so amusing they made up for the fact that nothing significant was happening whatsoever. He should have his own show honestly. But she supposed that, like Sasuke and Sakura probably were already well aware, even the most entertaining things became boring when subjected to prolonged exposure.

Miyako tried, she really did, to stick to tailing them just in case something interesting happened. You would think with Orochimaru being interested in Sasuke, for god knows what reason, that the boy would be attracting more danger to him. But it seems that Miyako woefully missed all the action she was going to get out of this team. She vaguely wondered where Orochimaru had gone and what exactly he'd done to Sasuke and why. Anko had since disappeared from the forest and hadn't returned, and the exams had been allowed to continue despite the type of threat she was sure Orochimaru posed. Was Anko aware of what had happened to Sasuke? And if she was, why hadn't she at the very least pulled Kakashi's team out of the forest?

The infiltration seemed to center around the Chuunin exams, so Orochimaru must have threatened her somehow to ensure the exams wouldn't be cancelled at the very least. Miyako wondered what Orochimaru had used as a threat, and questioned whether any threat would be good enough to allow a snake you knew was going to bite you to still sit in your midst.

Still, none of it was Miyako's problem, but she needed something to keep her mind occupied from sheer boredom. The only interesting thing that seemed to come of following Sasuke was that she wasn't the only one doing so.

This person, whoever they were, was in near perfect control of their chakra and was obviously used to hiding themselves. Miyako made sure to keep a fairly wide distance between them, as she could still feel how dangerous their aura was despite how small they attempted to shrink themselves.

She was certain it was someone of Orochimaru's—perhaps this Kabuto spy that Baki seemed to be working with quite closely—because this person had the same cold like frost of death around them. However, unlike the slow, playful way Orochimaru's aura promised death, this one was more…subdued. Miyako was reminded of the inside of the Shaman's tents of her adolescence, how before you could step foot inside the scent of decay wafted through your nostrils. This man reminded her of the germ warfare waged on her homeland nearly hundreds of years ago, and of the numerous bodies piled up in mass graves as an unknown disease ate away at the population. It was nauseatingly cold and clinical, the kind of medicine that really gave children a reason to fear.

If this was what Kabuto felt like than the Sand was more desperate and foolish than she first imagined. The type of presence Orochimaru had was intimidating enough, but to have that sort of energy flocking him—it was like Suna was begging to be slaughtered.

Still, even with what could be Kabuto's ever lurking presence around the three, it was mostly like watching a wilderness survival show/ extreme nature documentary, and Miyako wasn't particularly into those sorts of things.

Neither, apparently, was Gaara.

The longer the team kept him waiting, the more impatient he seemed to grow, and when Miyako arrived the morning of the 4th day after accidentally falling asleep in a tree to report the exact same thing: "They still haven't managed to collect a Heaven scroll yet." Gaara hit his breaking point.

G/M

The tower, blessedly, was equipped with several showers and Miyako was magic. She sighed as she washed the scent of forest off of herself, and let her thoughts wander to what she was going to do about Gaara.

'Honestly, enough is enough. There's nothing more that I'm going to get from stalking these kids. I have to find a way to communicate that to Gaara though, and I'm sure he's not going to be too happy…not that he ever is.' Miyako pushed her wet curls out of her eyes and sighed.

'If I tell him I'm no longer going to track Sasuke, I'm sure he'll react violently—and what do I do then? Do I let him know that the Sand doesn't work on me? Is that the smartest move to make?'

On the same token, Miyako knew she couldn't let Gaara see her as someone he could easily manipulate. As it was, he probably already believed that all he needed to do was to ask—after all, what had she done to prove that she was any different from anybody else.

'I clearly need to make some sort of impression, but I also need to somehow maintain the idea that he can…trust me? No that's not going to work." She rubbed the body wash viciously into her skin. The line she was attempting to walk with Gaara was a fine one. If she wasn't going to tell him the truth, she had to build some sort of relationship with him, but Gaara wasn't the type to build relationships with people, not anymore. The closest she could come was to be useful to him, and she didn't have any objection as far as spying on the Uchiha went, but she knew how easily something as simple as spying could lead Gaara to believe he could ask her for more. She had to draw a line somewhere, she might as well make it clear that this was it—when the usefulness of spying on the Uchiha had outlived its purpose. All she had to essentially do was use the excuse that it wasn't favorable to Suna. He definitely wouldn't understand, but that was a bridge she'd have to cross when she got there.

Her skin was still slightly damp, but she was suffocating in the now steamed up communal shower room, and hurriedly dressed. She had barely managed to adjust her breasts to cooperate with her bikini top— it was still a mystery to her how a five year old managed to manifest her in these types of clothes—when the door burst open.

She startled, so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn't even sensed another person coming, but now that he was here his presence was discernable.

Shikamaru Nara felt like the constant need to yawn. When he was with other people it wasn't so poignant, but alone she could feel a slight drowsiness creeping on her as they stared each other down with wide eyes. Miyako flung her arm across her chest, despite the fact that she was in no way modest and the missing fishnet shirt doing as far as preserving modesty.

"Uh, I—" the poor boy looked more alert than she'd ever seen him, and that had only been one other time. "I thought—" He pointed to the door, and then back to her, cheeks aflame before cursing and pointedly craning his head back to stare up at the ceiling, arms folded across his chest.

"I didn't know anyone was in here or anything, so, uh, yeah." He mumbled something that sounded like troublesome under his breath. "I didn't see anything either, and I'm not a pervert—"

At this point Miyako had thrown on her fishnet and scarf and was holding back laughter.

"It's okay," she interrupted his rant and he slowly brought his head back to focus on her, cheeks still slightly rosy.

He observed her for a second, "I don't remember seeing you in either exams."

Miyako arched an eyebrow. "Oh, how would you know? There were a lot of participants this year."

"Yeah, but there weren't that many in the second exam…" he trailed off and his eyes widened, a sudden aha moment brightening his face.

"Wait, you're the girl that was talking to Anko-san." He crossed his arms again and narrowed his eyes, though his stance still read that he wasn't entirely invested in the conversation.

"You're clearly not a genin, what are you doing in the tower?"

Miyako tossed her hair over her shoulder, acutely aware that this boy wasn't to be underestimated, even with that sluggish aura. She shrugged innocently. "They have better showers."

He scoffed, and Miyako continued before he could come up with his own theory. "I asked to be the one to congratulate the Sand team, and I didn't want to hang out with Baki for the next five days so," she shrugged again, "here I am."

Shikamaru seemed to buy that explanation well enough, partially because Miyako wasn't totally lying. Who would want to spend 5 days with Baki?

"So, are you going to tell me your name? I think it's the least you owe me for barging in." Miyako sashayed towards him, secretly delighting in the way he froze up at her approach.

"What a pain." He cleared his throat and held out his hand. "Nara, Shikamaru. And you?"

Miyako beamed and shook his hand. "Maki, Miyako." She put on a feigned innocent look. "Shikamaru? Don't tell me you're one of Asuma's?"

He cocked his head. "You know Asuma-sensei?"

Miyako let go of his hand and let out a peal of laughter. "Oh, I know he and the other Leaf senseis quite well."

Shikamaru put on a confused expression, probably wondering how Miyako could've met the Leaf Jounin, but a familiar voice cut through the quiet.

"Miyako." Miyako rotated her body to the still open doorway and blinked owlishly. There Gaara stood, nose wrinkled in revulsion and glare firmly on his face as he traced his eyes between the two of them.

"Gaara." Miyako chirped, waving cheerfully and ignoring Shikamaru tensing up for the fourth time.

"I need to speak with you." He finally sighed out when Miyako made no move to do anything but smile stupidly at him.

Miyako was, to put it simply, shook. But on the outside the two boys simply saw a two cheerful "u"s and heard an excited: "sure!"

The girl waved goodbye to Shikamaru and exited before Gaara, who, unbeknownst to her, threw Shikamaru a glare over his shoulder.

G/M

Gaara herded them into a dark corner of one of the rooms. Miyako's thoughts went haywire on his emotions alone, an odd mixture of determination, desperation, frustration, exasperation, curiosity—her head was spinning at the rapid pace of his emotions, though the outside of him didn't falter.

To keep herself level-headed she observed the room around them, it was equipped with training dummies piled into one corner, a sandbag in the corner adjacent to them hung from the ceiling, targets lined one wall, and a person-sized mat was rolled out onto the floor not too far from them. A light training area she assumed.

Gaara was standing half a foot from her, which was the closest he'd gotten since she'd been freed. It was both exhilarating and distracting. She was glad he wasn't the one who could feel emotions between them, because she would be outed instantly. Normally Gaara wasn't the type to beat around the bush, in fact this almost-shy approach was more akin to his previous nature—but she wouldn't let her heart beat in hope yet. While he seemed to internally struggle she took this moment to observe him uninterrupted.

The genie didn't consider herself to be one attracted to power, usually she was repulsed by it, but something about the hidden power in Gaara's slight frame was mesmerizing. She titled her head as she took a slow raking gaze across his body—the widened stance of his legs bespoke dominance, the proud posture despite the weight of the gourd on his back, the tendons that jumped throughout his hands and arms as he tensed and un-tensed—all of it was the beginnings of a man. She focused back on his face, he had a particularly dark scowl on it now as his frame shook from warring emotions. Still, there was something beautiful even though Gaara's face, in her opinion, still had something of a juvenile softness to it. His chin was definitely sharpening, and those rings around his eyes were clear signs of insomnia, but other than these two adult like features, Gaara's face gave away his weakness to her—that he was still a child stumbling through the world and trying to figure it all out. His eyes were where the mask fell into place for everyone else. He used them to glare people into submission, made sure they always seemed devoid of emotion, and looked intimidatingly through others as if he didn't see them.

Miyako wasn't a poet but she could write thousands of verses about Gaara's eyes. The color alone was an incomparable beauty to her. Gaara may hate what water and moisture did to sand, but his eyes were two soft oceans, jewels of depth, a cove that hid worlds of mythic wonder. Miyako thought that if Gaara really wanted to be deadly, all he'd really need to do was learn how to soften the edges of his eyes—she knew people would drown in them; fall to their knees and offer him the world.

She forced her gaze away from his eyes, which still had a faraway look in them, and focused on the red word marring his skin. Love, it said and she shivered. Every time she saw that word on his forehead was like a bucket of cold water being poured onto her skin. It was just a reinforcement of the red in Gaara's brain, of how it wouldn't be there if she had just…

"I have a request." He suddenly cut through the one-sided tension, Miyako blinked herself out of her haze.

She leaned herself back against the wall and scrutinized her master. "It's not like you to beat around the bush, Gaara." She intoned suspiciously.

He clenched his teeth, her reminder seemingly driving him to feral anger. He breathed in once than out. "I need you to make sure Sasuke and his team get a Heaven scroll."

Miyako, whose shoulders were only touching the wall, nearly fell back in shock at this sudden request. She was sure he knew she was gaping even if he couldn't see her face. He let her have her moment, mind racing.

'Out of everything this is least expected. Give Kakashi's team a Heaven scroll? Is he out of his mind? Not only would I have to find a team to steal it off of, I would also have to get it in the path of Kakashi's team without getting caught, potentially leave it somewhere, and make sure no one else takes it.'

Miyako thought she was going to have to draw her own barrier, but it seems Gaara had just given her the best reason to assert her position in this relationship. But there was still the issue of ensuring her response didn't alienate him from her completely. 'I guess I'll have to wing it.'

"Gaara," she started evenly, but it seemed that he already potentially knew where this was going by the narrowing of his eyes. Too bad that had no effect.

"What you are proposing is not only extremely risky, but a clear misuse of my skillset and mission here." She spoke slowly, calmly. A thus far ineffective balm to the bubbling red attacking her senses at the moment.

"Your mission is to aid Suna in its infiltration," he matched her even tone, though his deep voice still cracked in anger at being denied, "ensuring we can evaluate our enemies' power is your obligation."

'So that was why he took so long to even ask, it wasn't because he was beating around the bush, it was because he knew I was going to say no and was formulating responses to my possible objections.' Miyako tiled her head and smirked, a clear challenge in her eyes that Gaara didn't seem to like.

"I am in no way obliged to help further the careers of ninja I don't know." She started, pushing herself off of the wall to look Gaara straight in his eyes so he understood just how serious she was about her next words.

"In fact, if they can't manage to find the scroll that they need and make it to the tower by the 5th day, then they don't deserve to go any farther in these exams."

Gaara seethed, arms uncrossed and fisted by his side as he took a step closer, blood boiling at the unfazed cocky look in her eye. "I do commend you for your attempt at twisting my orders to your favor though, bravo." She mocked further.

The redhead forced himself through another calming breath, loosening his fists and slamming a cold mask on his face.

"But, had this imposter not interfered with the exams, their team might've already succeeded."

Miyako didn't bother to hold back a snort of derision, knowing full well she was playing with fire, but eager to push Gaara as far as he could manage. The fact that he hadn't decided to attack her yet was a small miracle in and of itself.

"Gaara, you know good and damn well that this is about survival." She gave an unbothered shrug. "Is it my responsibility to make up for the transgressions Konoha committed against their own people in allowing this exam to move forward despite obvious threat? No." She leveled him a similar cold stare. "Additionally, circumstances change in missions at a moment's notice, and you're well aware that failing to adapt is an invitation at possible death."

The boy didn't appreciate logic being leveled at him, his sand steadily began pooling out of the gourd, though he hadn't raised a hand to her—yet.

"I'm not asking you to hand them a scroll on a silver platter," he said between clenched teeth, "just some assurance that they make it to the third test."

She laughed, the sandbag in the corner swung violently on its chain and the sand on the floor began crawling its way towards her. "Assurance? Why don't you speak honestly about what you really want Gaara?" She tsked when he stayed obstinately silent. "No? I won't anyone, honest." The san created a ring around her, she still refused to react to it, too caught up now in winning their dangerous little game they'd begun.

"Fine," she sighed, "then I'll do it for you." She pulled her hair over her shoulder and twisted a strand on her finger, acting as if this whole scenario was just a casual conversation and not a potentially life-threatening situation.

"This pretty picture you've painted for me, to get me to agree to tamper with an exam for Sasuke has nothing to do with Suna." She hummed in faux thought. "In fact, nothing you do is, is it?"

He glared darkly as she continued. "You want Sasuke to pass this exam for you. You want Sasuke to go on to the third round of the exams so that he can fight you. You want to be the one to say you bested Uchiha Sasuke, in front of hundreds, so that you can say you killed Sasuke, and no one else."

She pushed her hair back over her shoulder, postured changing entirely and her face falling to a serious expression. "Let me make something clear to you, Gaara. There are no guarantees." Some part of her took some perverse delight in his face souring.

"There is no guarantee that even if I did interfere that Sasuke would make it to the third round. There's no guarantee that he would fight you at all in the third round." She rolled her shoulders back for the final blow, eyes harder than steel. "And let me ask you this: if Sasuke can't make it to the third round on his own merit, than is he really worthy of fighting you?"

"Miyako," he hissed, the sand steadily crawling up her leg, though she still refused to react. "You wouldn't want to see me unhappy." He promised darkly, hand raised, fingers curled and twitching awaiting the moment to strike. This was her one last chance it seemed. Pity, it was so easy getting him riled up.

"Helping Sasuke pass the exam will bring about that unhappiness, Gaara." He snarled at her declaration, fingers curling dangerously, but Miyako plowed on, figuring she should pile it on while she had the chance to vent her frustrations.

"You may not like the mission that you've been given but mine is clear. I cannot help you achieve selfish goals, Gaara. I am here at the behest of the Kazekage, your father, to gather intelligence to aid in the infiltration of Konoha. My duty does not include assisting you in realizing another desperate grab at asserting power." She smiled wickedly beneath her scarf now, daring him to encase her legs further in his deadly sand as she struck the final blow. "Actually, if Uchiha Sasuke is seen as such a threat to you, maybe I should kill him myself before he becomes a distraction for you when it's time to strike."

"No!" And his fist closed, urging the sand sitting on her skin to mangle her flesh and bone. She could feel the longing and urgent power behind his move, and yet…

"Why?" He growled and attempted once more, even going as far as grousing the phrase under his breath, to no avail. The sand did not move, and simply sat on Miyako's skin like a gritty blanket—uncomfortable but not in the least bit effective.

He breathed harshly, eyes staring unseeing at the sand collected on her legs. He moved his other hand with a roar, causing sand to cascade like a wave over her, but when urged to encase, the moment it touched her skin it sat with no pressure, sliding across her almost as if a lover's touch.

Gaara almost seemed to be hyperventilating as Miyako brushed the sand from her person. She could still feel some leftover grains but was more worried about having taken her fun—her justifiably horrible fun—too far.

She approached his now bent form, crouching down on her knees to stare at the top of his head as he clutched it between his hands.

Miyako of seven years ago would've embraced Gaara, ran her hands in comfort through his red locks, told him everything would turn out alright if he'd only listen. But Gaara wasn't the type of person who would accept hugs anymore. He was, in many ways, an entirely new person. Temporary, she hoped, but still new. So Miyako had to be a new person too to deal with the new, no, temporary Gaara.

"Now you see why he has sent me." She spoke drily to his head and he shook. She wasn't sure if in rage or in fear.

She rose back to her feet and addressed his shaken form with a renewed tenderness, feeling as if she should leave something in tact after he'd been thrown all those curveballs.

"I won't interfere with your plans for Uchiha Sasuke." She smoothed a hand over her head in exasperation. "But don't ever ask me to help you walk down this path of darkness you chose ever again."

With that she left quickly, not even bothering to look back, the parameters of their new relationship clear.

'You keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.'

G/M

'Why?'

With head between knees and body curled against the nearest wall, Gaara was left with his thoughts. Thoughts of purple eyes that hid so much. Who knew the seemingly vapid spy of Suna was all just an act. He was convinced it was all just an act.

'Mother, why?'

The sand was covering nearly every inch of the floor, his own mixed with the busted sandbag in the corner and creating a beautiful constellation of sparkling grains. He used to love the multi-colored sandbox in the park with all its beautiful grains too…

'Why don't you want her blood?'

His sand had never failed, ever. His mother was always, always hungry for more. She craved blood, needed it. What was it about Miyako? Did she have a jutsu? But she made no handsign. A kekkai genkai, but anyone who had the ability to counteract Gaara's sand in Suna would be revered as a God. An answer to all of those pathetic people's prayers, unless—

'I'll feed her to you, her and Sasuke Uchiha. They'll make fine additions to proving my existence.'

His father, it had to be. She said "now you know why he has sent me" it was obvious, she'd given herself away. But Gaara wouldn't die, his father's assassins would never get the better of him. When was she planning to do it? After the invasion? After they'd used Gaara like the weapon they created him to be?

Gaara was in a ball on the floor, he heard a cry. Chunks of wood flew in every direction, chips sprinkled between the glittering sands. Should he tell Temari and Kankuro? Had they been right that she was suspicious from the beginning? Could it be that she was actually sent here to murder Gaara?

'No! No, we can't trust them, they'll beg her to kill me, use her against me.'

Another cry, a heavier dusting of wood. Gaara was tired, so tired and couldn't sleep, but he knew one thing: he'd kill her before she even had a chance to kill him.

Ahhhh, this was so hard to write. I don't know why I was having such difficulties writing a short chapter. Since it was so short, I decided to give you a little alternate scene here at the end. This was the idea I had originally for the scene where Shikamaru busts in on Miyako, but I decided to change it at the last minute because I didn't want to introduce that type of dynamic into their relationship so early on, it didn't feel right at the end of the day.

Anyway, here's a bonus alternate scene:

She startled, so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn't even sensed another presence approaching, but now that he was here his presence smacked her in the face, along with all of his emotions.

Hand over heart and the other desperately holding her scarf over her face, Maki Miyako and Sabaku No Gaara stared one another down, neither daring to move to assuage this awkward situation. Miyako wondered if she should just finish putting her clothes on, eyes darting between the seemingly cool and calm Gaara, on the outside at least, and her fishnet top. Gaara meanwhile was between the feeling of vexation at being in a damp room and an odd feeling he couldn't place as he gazed at Miyako still partially undressed.

'He's nervous? And…is that a curl of interest?' Miyako couldn't be sure, it seemed so hard to believe that Gaara would have any positive emotions that weren't somehow tied back something negative, but she was curious to see where this nervousness was originating.

She broke their eye contact to finish adjusting her scarf to lie over her face, and then rotated slightly to grab her fishnet top off of the plain countertop where she'd previously piled her clothes, watching Gaara all the while out of the corner of her eye.

With Miyako's eyes off of him Gaara's were free to roam, though he wasn't quite sure why they were. They'd settled intensely on a bead of water that had been resting between the valley of her breasts, but with her sudden movement had decided to slowly crawl a path down her body Gaara was obliged to follow because…well he was invested at this point.

It disappeared, briefly obscured by the dark string of her bikini top, and reemerged to make further descent down a toned stomach that tightened just slightly as she moved to complete another motion. He briefly noted her arms raising up to pull the top over her head, and the action elongating her body so Gaara could see every detail, but he was too busy mourning the death of the droplet as it disappeared under her skirt.

Miyako adjusted her hair and her scarf, all the while gazing at Gaara under her eyelashes with curiosity, sensing that this short exchange had surmounted some sort of tension in his body, but it was a sexual kind, a kind he evidently didn't entirely understand if his furrowed brow concentrated on the apex of her hips had anything to say about it.

'But he was already slightly nervous when he arrived in here, and I don't think it was because he was wary of seeing something he wasn't supposed to.' Gaara didn't seem like the type that had that sort of shame, probably because it had never occurred to him to accidentally or otherwise see someone naked.

'Let's not keep him tormented any longer then, although this was a rather…interesting discovery.'

She cleared her throat and Gaara seemed to come back to his senses, taking his regular stance of folded arms across his chest, though his normal act of glaring through people had been replaced with avoiding her eyes. So it seems he did feel embarrassment after all.

"Did you need me for something?" If her voice sounded a bit more, well alluring, it wasn't entirely her fault. Gaara wasn't the only one who had sexual frustrations, and Miyako may have liked being stared at openly. Sue her.

He finally met her eyes and seemed to be doing his damnedest to keep them there. "Right, I need to speak with you." He whirled to about face in a silent gesture of "follow me", if she had to guess as far away from the scene of the crime as possible.

Thanks for reading everyone! Let me know what you think of the chapter and the bonus scene! See you in the next one 3

.Acronym