Hello and welcome to chapter 17 my friends. Are you ready to cry some more? To gasp? To rage throw your electronic device into the nearest wall by the end of the chapter?
PLEASE READ I AM LITERALLY USING ALL OF THE FEATURES TO TELL YOU THAT THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER OF THIS STORY BUT THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL! I REPEAT A SEQUEL IS COMING. So go over there and check it out when it goes up k? I might take a hiatus for like a solid month (The girl is exhausted . ) to nail down the plot for the sequel, but don't worry precious readers, I will not leave you hanging, scouts honor!
Anywho, thanks to all of my reviewers, followers, favoriters, and readers. If I ever win anything of substance I'm shouting you guys out first~. But for now:
alexc123: I knooooow I hate separating Miyako from Gaara at all if you couldn't tell, lol. But yeah, her relationship with Naruto is too precious, I don't even know if I intended for it to do that but I'm glad it did.
Menirx: I'm glad you're excited! Their relationship, for those of you who have come back to the story after the 2012 version, has been really fun to work through so far. I can tell you that a lot of the scenes, especially the ones where they have really meaningful dialogue, were not even planned and just felt right.
Guest: Gaara is the most precious! Ugh, part of me wants to explore a GaaraxMiyako relationship when they're tiny children just so I can make myself squeal lol.
Thoughts are in italics
Memories/flashbacks are in bold italics
Bold if not for emphasis, is for my beginning/endnotes
Disclaimer: Even with a global pandemic going on, Kishimoto is still not hard up for money. :/ So Naruto isn't mine. Still. *Sigh*
Queen of Liars
The breath stuttered to a stop in Naruto's chest, eyes glued to the man brazenly using the motionless Gaara's chest like a fucking chair as all sound was seemingly sucked out like a vacuum.
Through the ringing in his ear, he could faintly hear the din of voices; knew that the man was speaking, maybe to him, because his mouth was moving. He recognized some—the deep timber of his sensei, the slight shrill edge of Sakura-chan, but his eyes were stuck to Gaara's frozen face and the blonde resting atop him—what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fu—
"Naruto!"
It was a struggle to be physically present—what had Jiraiya taught him? He had to remember his body, isolate the-the different parts? It's hard because all he could feel was his tight chest—lungs fighting to get him breath, his eyes vibrating, his hands aching, and his teeth grinding. He clenched his fists, the only channel for his rage; one hand unconsciously digging his nails into the arm Kakashi had wrapped around his shoulders.
His sensei's chest was nearly pressed to his back, and it was a great anchor to the present, his steady breaths keeping him from floating away and his vision from bleeding entirely red. But he could still feel his rational thoughts slipping from him—thoughts he knew were largely fueled by the demon inserting themselves between his grieving. Kyuubi was flirting between the idea of straight lobbing the blonde foe's head off his shoulders, or obliterating the entire hideout with a mocking undertone of 'let me make you happy' being chanted in the back of his brain.
He was snarling around the bubbling heat rising to his esophagus as Kakashi tried to whisper strategy into his ear. He desperately tried to clutch onto his words, tried to keep himself from rushing down the addicting lava-like river of Kyuubi's power—but when the blonde man suddenly had Gaara's body in his grasp once again, making to flee with it—obvious trap or not he had to follow.
He ripped himself from Kakashi to give chase, the cacophony of voices calling after him nothing but white noise as he stalked like a beast after prey. His focus zeroed in on that smirking face and the slack face of his fellow jinchuriki.
His chest tightened again as grief screamed through his veins once more at the realization. The war between allowing his disbelief of the situation to skip right to rage fueling his body recklessly forward, and the grave acceptance of the situation he felt in the back of his mind encouraging him to ensure his friend's body wasn't disrespected by these criminals any longer was fierce. A larger part of him knew it was futile to hope that in taking Gaara away from the blonde man he could save him, it was what kept him in check and allowed him sense long enough to listen to Kakashi when he caught up to him.
It didn't mean it came with patience though.
"We need a plan Naruto, this guy is clearly trying to separate us."
Naruto had been coerced into hanging back a considerable distance from the blonde as he sailed the skies with Gaara as his captive, and every moment he was allowed to continue was torment. Naruto didn't want to waste any more time making plans or thinking of strategy—he wanted Gaara back now.
"Naruto." The grip to his arm had him gritting his teeth and slowing down again to keep pace with Kakashi, an askance look the only acknowledgement the man would receive.
"Listen carefully," Naruto titled his head only minutely to show he was listening, otherwise keeping his head forward to give the illusion all their attention was focused on the blonde. "this guy is a long range type, a bad match for you. It's unlikely he'll give you any opportunity to strike before luring you straight into his trap. We need to avoid that at all costs."
The teenager grunted in frustration, having forgotten all about their objective—jinchuriki, biju, him. But why would he worry over himself? There was no way these guys could pull that off. He'd destroy them before they even got the chance—stupid fox's participation or not. What happened to Gaara—no, he had to stop letting his mind go down that track. His control was slipping by the minute as it was. It didn't need to be said, what happened to Gaara—it couldn't happen to him, he wouldn't risk his village and everyone he loved like that.
"So how do we fight him?" He snapped, his voice and eyes whipping to his sensei in agitation.
"Well," the man mused, too lax for the situation they were in if you asked Naruto, "our information is limited—so there's not a lot of room for strategy…"
"So what are you saying we can't—?" The student snarled, before being abruptly cut off.
"I'm trying to teach you something here, Naruto." Kakashi, despite sounding largely unaffected, had a hard edge to his voice that wasn't missed by his student, so he reluctantly closed his mouth.
"The only way to counterattack a long-range type is with another long-range type and to do so effectively requires a genius."
Seeing the skeptical look of his student, Kakashi grinned behind his mask a little. "Luckily for you I happen to be both."
The hopeful little light sparkling just under the mounting frustration and rage calmed Kakashi a little. Dealing with an unknown foe was a disadvantage enough by itself, but if Naruto lost himself to his emotions—the rage and pain he could see swirling just under the surface of those eyes—Kakashi didn't think he could handle keeping Naruto safe from the Akatsuki and himself. He needed the boy to maintain as level as a head he could in the situation they were in. A big ask considering how off-balance they all felt.
Extracting a tailed beast and containing such a massive power was frightening to the Copy ninja, and he rarely was frightened of anything anymore. He'd been privy to Jiraiya's information of course, but seeing the results directly instead of hearing about it in a report was vastly different—always would be. Whatever they could do here to stop the Akatsuki's plans needed to be done, not just for Naruto's sake, but for the remaining Jinchuriki and their villages—perhaps the whole ninja world. He couldn't even fathom what a shadowy organization could do with one jinchuriki, much less all of them.
He shook his head gravely, honing back into his target. There was no time for those bleak thoughts, if they were going to ensure a better future, it mattered how they acted now. "I need time to prepare my counterstrike, so here's what I need you to do in the meantime…"
M/D
A miasma raced through the sky, writhing and snapping on the winds as it headed over dense forests to rocks ahead. As it came closer to its destination it seemed to thicken, forming a dark cloud-like mass in the sky, tendrils of inky unidentifiable matter snaking out occasionally to disturb the air around. It seemed alive and angry, the mere atoms seeming to vibrate with barely contained rage.
If anyone saw it they assumed it was a cloud passing overhead. A few old men gave the sky curious glances as they ambled along dirt paths carved in between the trees, marveling at the sudden cloud blotting out the sun for only seconds before whizzing ahead. Children gave out shouts, the youngest crying in turmoil, feeling the mass' ratcheting negative energy as if it were their own. Adults pitched up an eyebrow, the more sensitive among them shivering in their boots. No matter the reaction it was stored in the back of their brains just as quickly as it streaked through the sky—only occasionally to be recalled on a violently raining day or when shadows seemed to move too viciously in a darkened room.
It slowed slightly, a rumbling erupting from the center as it ambled over logs connecting two rock faces. The mass sucked into itself; the outer dark mist pulling and accumulating around it's core, then pulling the more solid darker layers of smoke and liquid darkness into a thinner more solid form that hissed and shook with such intensity it vibrated even the air around it until shockwaves were visible. It shot out a tendril, like an animal testing it's surroundings, before uncurling from the vibrating ball created and shooting forward as one long undulating stream of sparkling purple sand.
It came upon a scene very quickly that to it appeared like 4 foes surrounding what was only for it. Holding hostage what should be at peace and at rest. With a lunge the sand surged forward and attacked what was keeping captive its Purpose. Though it did not have eyes it knew organic things from inorganic—this prison that held its Purpose was controlled by the organic foe that tasted like ash and saliva.
Splitting itself in half was simple, though it gave less power to its current attack it would be no matter as long as it accomplished freeing its Purpose. The sand shot up, too quickly, like a powered stream of water and drilled into the organic foe's stomach with such force that he stumbled on top of the inorganic creature. It could feel grains loosening as it strayed on the edge of the vortex attempting to also eat the organic foe. Though the organic foe attempted to flee, it could not escape after stealing its Purpose and robbing its Purpose of peace and rest. It must release its Purpose or die.
K/N
"Kakashi-sensei, what—?"
On the edges of his vision not being used Kakashi could see what Naruto was gaping at. A purple looking haze was swarming around the blonde and the head of the bird. He didn't know where it came from, but it seemed to have a mind of its own—as it both successfully avoided his Kamui, attacked the blonde, and attacked the bird.
Another powerful hit had the blonde swooping down to avoid the attack, but Kakashi's Kamui followed just long enough to suck free an arm, until the pain got to be unbearable and he switched eyes.
As the blonde dropped the bird from the sky, aiming for the grassy clearing spotted with trees on the edge—the head of the bird was teetering dangerously under the pressure of what Kakashi could now see was sparkling purple sand.
The irony wasn't lost on him, and with a quick look to Naruto he grew worried at the hopeful little sparkle in his eyes. It was hard enough to get Naruto to come to terms with losing a comrade and friend second only to Sasuke to him, Kakashi didn't need him to build false hope on the idea that Gaara might still somehow be alive just because there was strange sand acting on its own.
"Maybe—" Naruto sucked in a breath, but launched himself into their plan of attack regardless.
The blonde dodged, successfully separating himself from Gaara and allowing Naruto to free the head completely with Rasengan. The sand artfully avoided his attack and converged on the falling head, floating it swiftly away to some tree branch with Naruto and a clone following suit. Together the sand and Naruto began clawing and drilling at the clay, the sand focusing it's efforts on the sealed mouth and Naruto focused around the mouth.
He could feel the mounting rage building back up in Naruto, having cooled considerably while they gave the blonde chase, but now that Gaara was secure, or as secure as he could be with an unknown sand-like entity in the equation, he couldn't hold back his emotions.
"I'll destroy you." Naruto promised gruffly, his eyes rapidly morphing to the Kyuubi. Seeing as this was ideal conditions for Naruto's fighting style, Kakashi decided not to interfere, for now. Aside from his obvious exhaustion being a factor, he was suspicious of this sand still. He hadn't detected anyone behind them other than Chiyo-baa-san and Sakura, and unless Chiyo had a hidden penchant for sand on top of her puppetry skills, it couldn't be her. Who was controlling the sand—and why were they so eager to get to Gaara?
Despite how it looked, Kakashi was closely observing the fight between the blonde and Naruto— to monitor for what appeared was happening in front of his very eyes. A clay clone lie in the center of the cratered ground—the blonde evidently deciding Naruto was more than he could handle right then. But this escape, it triggered Naruto's state into absolute chaos. Kakashi struggled to get up from the clone Naruto's grip as a tail bubbled forth to form the beginnings of what Jiraiya had described as the Kyuubi cloak.
Cries of triumph took his sight away momentarily from the rapidly evolving situation, the clones and the sand having pried open the head of the bird and freed Gaara, large pieces of the former prison lying strewn about and the sand swarming around the prone form of the Kazekage with what Kakashi could only describe as a frantic energy. It nearly enveloped all but his face, the excess sand dripping and pooling onto the ground below the tree in an odd rendition of a leaking faucet.
Kakashi put his eyes back to Naruto, who was raging in the forest below, his previous attack having knocked down some trees. He dug in his back pouch for the seal Jiraiya gave him, calculating the best way to approach the distraught blonde. The Sannin's warnings echoed in his head—Naruto would begin losing recognition of friend and foe as he progressed through the stages. If Kakashi wanted to stop him he had to do it before the third tail when he'd attack him on sight. Right now he was only at two, if he timed it just right—
A cry of pain and a poof ripped his attention back to the scene of triumph, weird as it was, that quickly turned into even weirder confusion. There was one less Naruto and if Kakashi had to bet it had something to do with the sand lashing out at the remaining clone on the tree. Dammit.
The rage-addled half-Kyuubi influenced Naruto turned his gaze up towards the ruckus, his slit eyes locking on the writhing sand keeping the clone of him at a safe distance away from the body it still had in its grasp. Kyuubi-changed Naruto pivoted to the fighting direction, still snarling and blinded by rage.
'Shit,' Kakashi tightened his grip on the paper square in his hands. The sand pushed at the clone deliberately, sending it to the edge of the branch before circling back to Gaara's body and piling underneath, floating him off of the branch. All the while Kyuubi-changed Naruto's slit eyes followed the proceedings; taking small steps in the direction the sand was floating Gaara off to.
'Do I stop Naruto first or the sand?' While Gaara seemed to be the main source of Naruto's turmoil, and it would be best to keep him in Naruto's range of sight, he didn't know how to…kill sand for lack of a better word. He could certainly try fighting it like Lee did in the Chuunin exams, or wetting and weighing it down with a water jutsu, but if it was being controlled by someone how long would it be before more arrived to do the same thing? He couldn't risk wasting time trying to keep the sand at bay when he needed to stop Naruto's transformation before he wasn't able to any longer.
Decision made he lunged at Naruto, the distraction of the sand attempting to cart Gaara away and then having to pause and kill another clone proving long enough to give him time to maneuver to Naruto's blind spot, fake him out, and slap the seal onto his forehead.
With a stuttered breath the red started receding. Naruto gasped, and his eyelashes fluttered, but he didn't pass out as expected, just huffed out heavy breaths as he tried to regain his bearings.
They whipped their heads at the sound of a poof, to find white smoke dissipating—Naruto's remaining clone, and sand slowly settling back onto the ground to cocoon around Gaara's body again, though mostly coalescing around the sides to form a type of barrier, vibrating in defense.
Naruto sprang up into a head-rush, Kakashi doing nothing to reprimand his student aside from grunting. When he'd sufficiently steadied himself, he surveyed the sand, half of which was now a wriggling mass upending dirt in every direction while the other half remained as a vigilant guard dog over Gaara.
"Kakashi-sensei, you don't think—?" The boy turned his eyes to his sensei, damp with moisture he wouldn't let fall.
"It can't be Naruto." He denied, as gently as he possibly could, but he could see he hadn't entirely gotten through to the boy.
"But who else could do something like this? Only Gaara had—over the sand, so—"
It was hard to refute something so indisputable, Gaara was famed throughout the lands for his mastery of sand unseen since the Third Kazekage, but the facts remained—something or someone else was controlling this purple sand or sand-like substance, and it wasn't Gaara.
"I have to check." Naruto lurched forward, fists tightened in determination, as he began marching forward. While normally Kakashi wouldn't bother stopping his stubborn student from doing anything he didn't think was going to get him killed, he felt particularly overprotective. Maybe it was the still fresh image of the nine-tails cloak on his mind, or knowing that Naruto was emotionally imbalanced and had been through enough today. He wasn't eager to see him get his hopes crushed all over again, it was the only explanation he had for grasping onto Naruto's wrist and being uncharacteristically pleading.
"Naruto…don't."
"But sensei, I need to know!"
"It will attack you Naruto, it didn't hesitate to destroy your clones. Whoever is controlling the sand doesn't want anyone touching Gaara…" he trails off warily and eyes the ground flying into arches, a steady pile accumulating on each side as the sand diligently continues its work of—of what Kakashi can't exactly tell.
"But that doesn't make any sense!" He exclaims in frustration. "The sand was helping up until the point we released Gaara, if we want the same things, to keep Gaara safe then shouldn't—" He snapped his stuttering jaw shut, frustration set in his brow again.
"Naruto—" Kakashi doesn't even know what to say to him. He only wants his student to stop hurting emotionally, but realistically they can't let whoever or whatever take Gaara. He needs to be brought home, needs to be mourned properly. He loosens the hand he didn't know he had around Naruto's wrist before dropping it entirely with a conflicted sigh when he sets a determined face forward again, claiming he was going to reason with…well it. He lets him go with a "be careful", and it feels like the wrong thing to do.
N/M
Despite others' belief, Naruto wasn't completely tactless. Sure he forgot things in his haste and passion that maybe seemed obvious to others, but it didn't mean he didn't know how to analyze a situation, especially after the training Pervy Sage drilled into his head the past 2 years. He'd had enough unfortunate run-ins with animals and women (the latter usually in inappropriate situations that were not his fault thank you very much) to know that both were easily triggered into attacking if you so much as moved the wrong way (again, the women were more prone to attacking because they'd been peeped on which was, again, not Naruto's fault).
So he took a cautious approach to the sand, despite how ridiculous he felt with his hands in the air in surrender, but with the way it bristles and snaps the closer he draws, it seems like a smart idea all around.
He feels even dumber when he opens his mouth to speak, unsure how to address it. If it was Gaara for sure he'd try reasoning with the sand that way, but the problem is they don't know. If it's someone else controlling the sand, someone who was so good at concealing themselves that even Kakashi couldn't sense them, how was he supposed to reason with them through the element? He didn't even know who he was talking to, what their motivations were, what they were planning on doing. But whether it was a miraculous sign Gaara was alive, or someone who just wanted Gaara out of the hands of the Akatsuki, he had to believe that this sentient sand only wanted the best for Gaara. There was no other explanation he could accept.
"Gaara," he began lowly, very aware that his sensei was only sitting a few meters away and was more than likely listening, "if that's you, please listen to me." He gulps down the tremble in his voice, coming to a stop when the sand withdraws from it's protective barricade to lunge at Naruto. Two meters, he estimates, that's all the sand will give him. He watches it coil back in, a whorl of it still curved like a snake poised to strike while the rest goes back to blockading Gaara on all sides. The sand that was digging into the ground hadn't stopped once to even acknowledge Naruto.
"It's—me. It's Naruto." He feels the need to clarify when the sand shifts almost like it's listening. "Remember? The loudmouthed idiot who punched you awake during the Chuunin exams?" His voice comes out too wavering, but there isn't anything he can do about it now. The sand seems highly unaffected by his pleas, still tensed and ready to snap parts of him off if he so much as breathes across it's two meter mark.
"I understand if you're doing this because you're angry with me." The hands that had been open in surrender now fall to his sides as half-formed fists. "I know I failed you. If I had known—" He bites his lip and staves off what sounds like an excuse because really there is no excuse for this. "It doesn't matter, what matters is how sorry I am, Gaara." He futilely brings up one hand to scrub at his eyes, cursing lightly when the pressure does nothing to stop the tears from falling, but coaxes them out instead.
"Sorry that I wasn't fast enough. Sorry that I wasn't strong enough. Sorry that you di—" He bites his tongue momentarily, "that your last moments you were alone."
It's honestly the thing he hates most about this whole situation, after Gaara had fought so hard to no longer be alone, to change himself and win the admiration of his village, it all amounted to nothing as these sick fucks killed him in exchange for power.
He gazed at the sand again, which hadn't relaxed in the slightest. He could almost see, in the glittery-ness of its grains, two sharp eyes at the head of the wisp glaring at his every movement. The sand was almost a representative of Gaara's past—distrustful, destructive, and caring little of anyone else but Gaara. He choked back a sob.
"I understand if you're punishing me, I deserve it." He swallowed thickly. "Whether you're Gaara, or someone else, you have every right to be angry with me for failing him—for being too late." He brought a hand to his chest, clutching his heart as he gritted his teeth against the stream of tears falling. "But please," his voice cracked raw, "please let me help Gaara now. Please let me take him home. Please let me help him no longer be alone."
K/S
Sakura and Chiyo had arrived sometime in the middle of Naruto's impassioned speech and had quietly sat, for the first few moments anyway, to observe what was happening.
Sakura had made to get up from her crouch after realizing that Naruto was talking to…well no one, but Kakashi had hauled her right back down by her wrist and shook his head at her questioning look.
"But—"
"Even if it doesn't change anything, he needs this."
Still, he'd had to end up explaining the whole thing to the two confused women, though it didn't help much with their confusion at the end of the day—they simply joined Kakashi and Naruto in the state they were already in.
Still, Sakura, like Kakashi, believed that the sand was probably more of a danger to Naruto then anything else—they hadn't encountered anyone outside of the Akatsuki and Team Gai, the likelihood that this was some sort of jutsu put in place to further lure Naruto into a trap seemed high. Kakashi seemed pretty exhausted after using his Sharingan, and she and Chiyo weren't in the best of shapes, but it would be best for them to get Naruto and subsequently Gaara away from the sand as quickly as possible. They didn't know what other Akatsuki were lurking around, nor had they completely eliminated their remaining foe, and they were in unfamiliar enemy territory.
"Sakura," The pink-haired shinobi turned to the grave looking Chiyo, who's eyes hadn't been taken off of the exchange between Naruto and the sand since they'd arrived, "if you and Naruto can get the Kazekage away from that sand, then I may be able to destroy it completely."
The two leaf shinobi looked curiously at the elder. "What are you planning to do Chiyo-baa-san? You're still hurt, you shouldn't be taking on any more unknown adversaries." The medic-nin advised.
"Don't worry about me Sakura, just get Gaara away from that sand."
The pink-haired shinobi looked ready to argue the point, shifting into full medical mode, but the sounds of fighting broke out nearby, interrupting their attempt to make plans.
"Gai." Kakashi confirmed. "He must've caught up and caught the blonde bomber."
Sakura rose, wary of the sudden two difficulties in front of them. "Should we help them?" Although while she said this she was still steadily looking at the predicament that lied in front of them.
The one grey-eye narrowed. "They should be able to handle him, but be ready—he's proven to be skilled at escaping, and destroying everything in his way to do so."
M/N
The sand was a creation of limited directives, emotions wasn't it's forte—except anger. Any calm it had felt in ridding of the threat of the copy organic foes and keeping the two remaining organic foes at a distance was thwarted when one still approached its Purpose.
Right now the foe stood at an appropriate distance, not interfering, but it would not uncoil from striking position. It was not stupid and it would put its Purpose to rest before anyone else would lay another finger on its Purpose. It supposed it could kill the foe, before the foe could strike, but the roses it tasted were coated in rain—the foe mourned. Mourning it could accept, it would let the foe mourn, Purpose deserved mourning.
It worked diligently for a while, protecting Purpose, watching the foe, digging— it was almost peaceful—even the arrival of two more foes at a distance couldn't entirely disturb it, though it did hiss in aggravation.
It was the return of the ash-tasting foe that disrupted it's work. The enemy crashed into the section of forest with even more foes giving chase. Unbelievable! From 3 organic foes to now 9—all threatening the peace and rest of its Purpose, threatening its Purpose with further harm. It must protect with everything it had, so, pulling the parts of itself digging back into its body, it cocooned itself around it's Purpose and tightened it's barrier.
It happened too quickly. One moment all of the foes were gathered in the same vicinity, the majority facing the ash-tasting one, in the next the sand could feel the ash-tasting foe had inorganic matter multiplying inside of him—a destructive force. Should it fly away? Should it stay and protect? This is where the sand was determined to have the Purpose rest, and now all of these nuisances were standing in its way.
Perhaps though, the ash-tasting foe would rid the sand of all other foes with the blast—it was unfortunate that the mourning Rose-tasting foe would not be there to properly weep for its Purpose once the sand was finished digging, but it would all be fine in the end.
The blast came, rocking the earth and reflexively the sand tightened its hold around the Purpose, prepared for whatever would follow such force, yet nothing came. Not heat, not more tremors, not even inorganic blunt objects flung by the blast.
It could feel that the ash-tasting foe was gone, but that 8 still remained. What had been done to prevent their deaths it could not say, but when it determined there was no more immediate threat, it began digging anew.
L/N
"Amazing."
Aside from Gai and Naruto, everyone gaped at the explosion disappearing right before their eyes. Sharingan Kakashi indeed.
There wasn't much time to gape and recover from such a feat, with the eerie silence lingering behind the others could make out clear as day the hissing noises and the shifting of the earth.
"Sakura, the sand!" Chiyo urged just as Tenten's voice overlapped her own with an exclamation of: "what is that?!"
The medic-nin clenched her teeth, disappointed that the death of their blonde assailant hadn't meant stopping the sand either. She was hoping the Akatsuki had somehow been the ones controlling it, now it meant that they needed a plan to maneuver Gaara away from the sand without further involving Naruto in case this was a trap.
"Neji, what do you see?" Kakashi asked beside Gai, looking equal parts bothered and relieved to be nestled to the man's side.
"This…sand, the chakra is…thick." His eyes narrowed, veins jumping as he frowned in confusion. "And it doesn't look like it leads anywhere, it's self-contained."
The company shared looks of puzzled astonishment amongst each other, though Gai seemed to get over it quite quickly, putting a determined finger in the air.
"No Matter! If This Sand Is Anything Like Gaara's, Lee Will Be Able To Outmaneuver It With The Power Of His Youthful Limbs!" He then pointed to his similiarly dressed student with grin that sparkled the sunlight.
Sakura recalled images of Lee at the Chuunin exams, easily dancing around the sand and subduing it with skilled Taijutsu techniques. Yes, if anyone could do this, get Gaara and Naruto away from whatever that is. She looked hopefully up at Lee who saluted his sensei with a "Yosh!"
"Bring Gaara to me, Rock Lee." Chiyo ordered, and Sakura was suddenly reminded of her anxiety around Chiyo's plans for Gaara, and to stop the sand.
She didn't have time to question her, and no one else did either as Lee sprinted off in the direction of Naruto and the sand that was still emitting a low rumble at Naruto's close proximity.
"Naruto-kun, duck!"
Naruto threw himself to the ground, a little closer to Gaara than the sand would've liked, and predictably it lunged, grazing his cheek as he rolled away. Quickly it lifted up from the ground to lunge at Lee who gave it a marvelous Konoha Whirlwind. He was forced to dash away as the other half of the sand, previously digging, swooped in a wave to crush him.
Naruto jumped up beside Lee as he joined him the safe distance—2 meters—in his regular fighting stance.
"If you can distract the sand long enough Bushy Brows, my clones and I should be able to grab Gaara."
"Then, Naruto-kun, I will create an opening for you to rush in a grab Gaara." At the nod shared between them Lee rushes forward, and, in a move very similar to the Chuunin exams, begins running circles around the sand just inside it's discomfort zone. Meanwhile, Naruto creates 4 shadow clones.
The small dust cyclone that Lee kicks up from his fast pace makes it difficult to see what's happening, but he can hear slight hisses as the sand attempts to snap at Lee and misses every time.
Naruto sees the other half of the sand that had been floating outside of circle of dust, lunge when Lee stops to place a strong kick to disperse the guard sand, leaving only a small ring to protect Gaara.
"Let's go!" He exclaims and he blends in amongst his clones as they run forward, one sticking with him to create Rasengan, one acting as a further decoy to help him attack, and another hanging back to grab Gaara when the sand is otherwise occupied.
It's a little satisfying when a plan goes off without a hitch, the small ring of sand pierces right through the clone and falls right into the swirl of his Rasengan, the larger grouping of sand surged forward too late to attack and only manages to take out one clone before the remaining clone grabs Gaara and hoists him over his shoulder.
It attempts to grab at the retreating Naruto clone, the sand engaging with Lee rushing to assist, but Naruto slices through the attack with a kunai and Lee lunge kicks through the chasing sand. The real Naruto dashes after the clone, kunai out at the ready while Lee knocks the sand with a heavy punch into the ground so hard it makes an impact.
Panting, the clone delivers Gaara to a somber Chiyo, who orders him to put Gaara on the ground and kneels before him.
"What are you going to do, Chiyo-baa?" Naruto says in between pants, observing the women as she rests a hand on Gaara's forehead.
She looks up to him and smiles, "the right thing—what I should've done long ago."
L/M
The sand wriggles under this foe's—firecrackers and joy— foot, panicking at the loss of its Purpose. Why have they taken Purpose? What will they do? Why won't they let it's Purpose rest?
It has failed in letting the copy of the organic Rose foe take its Purpose, and now it is pinned and must feel how that wood-scented mothball foe touches what is not for them. The Purpose is not for them to touch! The Purpose is to rest! To be at peace! They must hand it back what is theirs. It is their Purpose. Theirs to protect—and it will kill them all to do so.
Give the Purpose back! Give Purpose back! The Purpose is theirs! Theirs!
"MINE!"
The grains, which had been struggling previously under the weight of the foot dispersed quickly, the grains melding and forming together quickly in the visage of a slender hand that rose up from the pile and pushed the Firecracker foe onto the ground. It paid no mind to the foe's exclamation of surprise, the hand extending into an arm, and then a shoulder, and a neck, until an entire upper torso was formed and reaching for the Purpose stolen from it.
"MINE!" And it clawed at the ground dragging a still rapidly forming torso along with it, that soon formed hips and legs that, after a little clumsy shuffling, it used to pull itself up, still wailing and reaching all the while in the rest of the company's direction.
K/N
"I-is that?" Naruto choked beside a flabbergasted Sakura, totally forgetting his fascination with Chiyo's glowing hands and Sakura's sudden look of grave understanding.
"Miyako." Kakashi growled on the other side of Sakura, Neji and Tenten having taken up wary stances in front of the group.
Naruto could see, through the gap made in between their bodies, that the sand was gone completely and in it's place stood something that looked like a grainy, transparent lilac purple video image of Miyako Maki, unmasked, and face full of torment. And Naruto felt like he was seeing the face of a ghost in more ways than one. What was she doing here? Was she controlling the sand? Why did she look like she was…dead? Like a ghost come to haunt them?
"Can't take." Ghost-looking Miyako warbles out in a gruff-sounding wail, like she's desperate for something—like she's desperate for…
He trails his eyes back to the pale Gaara, who Granny Chiyo claimed she could save. If Miyako was the sand, then that meant she wanted Gaara—but for what?
The Miyako lurches forward, Lee blocking her and settling into a fighting stance in preparation for an attack that never comes. He exclaims in shock when his fist passes right through Miyako's face, and then her whole body passes right through his as if he were merely a water instead of a whole human person.
Naruto shoots up again, rushing forward to help despite both Kakashi and Sakura calling for him to stop. But it's Miyako, even if it's some kind of jutsu or some crazy set-up or she really is…dead, he gulps around the word, he still has to try. He doesn't believe Miyako wouldn't want the best for Gaara, and if Chiyo-baa-san can save him…
"Miyako, stop!" He exclaims, right behind Neji and Tenten now, as Tenten, futilely it seems, launches kunai and shuriken from a large scroll and Neji takes his Juuken stance with gritted teeth. The weapons only seem to waver her image slightly as they pass through her, still running, full speed at Chiyo and Gaara, her eyes only for the redhead on the ground.
With the distraught but determined look on her face, open skirt flying behind her on the wind, sun illuminating her odd visage with a glow, Naruto's heart lurches. Of course all Miyako cares about is Gaara, she's in love with him, and his breath stops in his chest to think that she's followed him to the ends of the earth even in death.
"Miyako!" He shouts over the sudden stutter of pain from Chiyo in the background and the impact of Neji's Air Palm actually making contact, the force rippling her image into sudden color as she flies back off her feet and rolls onto the ground in a heap.
Everything pauses for a second, the company holding their breath as the transparency starts flickering on Miyako's form as she picks herself up from the ground, shaking. Naruto figures this is as good a time as any to try and break through to her.
"Miyako!" He cries. "Please stop! We're not trying to hurt Gaara! We're trying to save him!" He sees the shudder go through her as she stumbles back onto her feet, her hands shaking.
"Can't take." She rasps this time in a whisper. "Can't take, can't take, can't take."
"Neji?" Tenten whispers out the corner of her mouth, and Naruto tears his eyes reluctantly from the girl who'd started to stumble forward once again to Neji's wide-eyed look of astonishment.
"This isn't…whatever it is isn't chakra. It…transforms." He breathed.
"What does that mean?" Naruto shot his eyes back to the flickering Miyako who was steadily making her way toward them again.
"Lee!" Neji called out instead. "Use your Taijutsu."
"But Neji, it was ineffective!" Lee called out behind Miyako, though his fists clenched and itched to participate.
"Something has changed, try again!" He demanded, readying himself for another attack. "Tenten, you can use your weapons as well."
At her nod of affirmation, the two readied themselves for Miyako who had built up speed and was charging at them again with another heart-wrenching roar of "mine!"
A shuddering breath from behind is all it takes for Naruto to focus back in on Chiyo and Gaara, the elder women bent at the waist over the still prone form of his friend, while beside her Sakura supported her weight with her hands.
"Chiyo-baa-san!" He jogged back to the two women, noticing then that the flow of chakra from her hands was wavering.
"I…" the woman wheezed, "I can't, not enough." She clenched her eyes shut, tears of frustration slipping out to land on Gaara's chest.
He looked down to his friend's still face, the grunts of the fight and Miyako's interchanging mantras of "mine" and "can't take" in the background, the despondency at discovering that blonde man on top of what would be confirmed to him was his friend's dead body—all of this accumulated.
Naruto had failed, he couldn't do anything aside from put his comrades in danger. He couldn't save Gaara from the Akatsuki, couldn't give Miyako any peace after losing the man she loved, couldn't he do anything about this either?
He looked down at his hands and thought. Looking back at the weakening flow of chakra he realized that Chiyo may not have had enough, but he—his fists tightened, he had to try. For Gaara, for Miyako and for the Sand village.
"Use mine." He thrusts his hands into her vision, giving a gentle smile when she lifted her face back up to observe him.
She nodded and he placed his hands on top of hers, increasing the chakra by tenfold as he focused on channeling it, concentration furrowing his brow. He tuned everything out, the battle beside them, Sakura's pitying look he didn't quite understand, Chiyo's watery smile of admiration. All that mattered now was saving Gaara.
"He's lucky…" Chiyo said with labored breaths, "to have a friend like you."
L/N
When the image of Miyako realized she'd have to fight back in order to get to Gaara, she fought back hard.
Neji, Tenten and Lee had never had to fight Miyako under any circumstance or had seen her fight, but the girl was actually a lot better at Taijutsu than they anticipated. As long as she avoided Lee's powerful hits and Tenten's weapons, she proved to be formidable.
Neji had attempted to use the 64 palm strike on her almost instantly after confirming that she could, in fact, take damage. To his astonishment, however, she grunted, shook it off, and her strange chakra network stayed largely unaffected—the chakra points only seeming inflamed momentarily before shrinking back to normal size within seconds. Her rate of healing was almost on par with Naruto's and Neji worried that no matter what they did, physical damage or not, Miyako wasn't going to stay down until she got to Gaara.
Neji could quickly feel exhaustion coming on and by the look on Tenten and Lee's faces they weren't far behind. They needed a new plan.
"Tenten, Lee, stand back!" Neji yelled, charging forward. The two leaped back from the jounin who, at the last minute, spun on his heel to initiate a Kaiten, the wind slamming into Miyako and sending her flying through the trees.
"Nice!" Tenten cheered with Lee on both sides, but the Jounin only grunted. "That only bought us some time, we need to figure out a way to defeat her for good." He turned to Kakashi, who of course had been observing the whole time, eyebrows furrowed.
Chiyo's breathing had become more and more labored as she and Naruto continued to funnel chakra into Gaara, and Neji could see that she was on the vestiges as life and color came into Gaara's skin.
She picked her head up, heavy from the jutsu and breathed out words in the temporary silence. Everyone well aware Miyako would be back at any moment.
"When Gaara wakes…" she coughed, voice wafer thin, "she will be gone."
Sakura furrowed her brow. "Chiyo-baa-san, you should conserve your remaining energy." She urged, but the woman shook her head slowly.
"That girl…she's tied to Gaara." Another wheeze. "Lives to protect him." She looked straight at Naruto gravely. "When Gaara wakes…keep this…from him."
"Why?" Naruto looked heartbroken at even the thought of it.
"She left…it will…break his heart."
Naruto looked ready to argue, looking so incredibly hurt, but a gasp below them broke the moment, at the same time, the pounding of feet drew their attention to the approaching caravan of Sand ninja.
"MINE!"
Quicker than they would've ever anticipated, Miyako burst forth from the line of trees, her form looking entirely solid now as she threw herself at the group with renewed vigor.
Neji knew she had been crying the entire time before, the cracking in her voice and the desperate tone she used to say her two phrases were enough of a tip off, but now that she was a mostly solid looking being he could see the silvery trails down her cheeks, the shaking of her lips, how she continued forward despite the slight limp in her step from her injuries. She wanted Gaara and she wanted Gaara badly, but why hadn't she dissipated now that Gaara was breathing? Was Chiyo-san wrong?
G/M
It might've been embarrassing for Gaara had anyone seen him running full speed to a young looking Naruto. It might've been embarrassing had anyone seen the grin the stretched across his cheeks so hard his face hurt. It might've been embarrassing if anyone had seen the way he stumbled across the green field, the wisps of stars whizzing around him in the white background.
He didn't care. He wasn't alone anymore. He didn't have to be.
When he was nearly there he slowed, cheeks glowing in embarrassment, but received Naruto's hand with his own, little hesitation in his movements.
"Gaara!" He exclaimed, a cheesy grin on his whiskered face, smile so wide his eyes closed.
"Gaa-chan!"
A familiar dark-haired girl practically flew into Naruto, embracing him around the neck all while beaming at Gaara. Copper skin a complimentary contrast with Naruto's tan.
"Miyako, Naruto." He clasped hands with Naruto in front of him, while reaching for Miyako's own reaching fingers, thinking that all in the world was perfect.
"Gaara!"
And then the world was sucked away slowly, the picture being sucked slowly by its edges into a black hole, but their hands remained clasped and the warmth remained, until at last Naruto's face was the last thing he saw.
G/M
"Gaa…chan." Dripped from red lips, the purple gaze only focused on the now steadily rising and falling chest of the now alive Sabaku no Gaara. Hand splayed over Kakashi's shoulder to reach him.
The only thing that permeated the shocked silence was Kakashi's pained grunts and the crackle of lightning energy from his dying Raikiri as Maki Miyako slumped forward, eyelids dragging down just as Gaara's opened to Naruto hovering over him.
Around Kakashi's hand Miyako started to dissolve, purple sand dropping from her in pieces like raindrops before she suddenly collapsed just as quickly as she formed, nothing more than sand once more.
Behind them, the Sand village welcomed Gaara heartily, cheering and crying as their leader came to, but for the group responsible, the sand being steadily blown away by the wind was all that was on their minds.
As Kakashi, mortifyingly, was carried back through the forest on Gai's back, they passed by the area where it all started, the only reminder it wasn't all a dream.
Kakashi eyed the mess of dirt splattered around the large rectangular hole about a meter deep. He focused back on Gai's neck, poking him to "run along" faster with a well-placed jab at his speed. He wouldn't acknowledge what the two of them already knew a loud.
'She was digging him a grave.'
G/M
Gaara didn't particularly know how to feel having been died only to be resurrected. At this stage in the process he could only really feel a strange mixture of guilt and failure. While he'd protected the Sand village overall, he'd underestimated his enemy's skill and had gotten himself kidnapped, forced the Sand to ask for help from the Leaf, and thrown his loved ones into turmoil. Temari and Kankuro, after hugging him really tightly for several minutes with tears in their eyes, had reamed him within an inch of his life.
He was chiefly guilty that a treasured elder had given her life for him though. It made him feel warm inside that someone thought so much of him that they would trade their life for his, but at the same time it shouldn't have come to that in the first place.
The only thing that could distract him was work—something neither of his siblings would allow him to do, claiming he needed to recuperate. Or, he could always run his brain into the ground wondering what secret they were keeping from him.
At first he thought that everyone was walking on eggshells around him because he'd, you know, died. He noticed, however, that the looks people would throw him were less of pity and more the type that came with nerves. His siblings weren't actually the cause of this, Gaara had only become suspicious because Rock Lee and Naruto had both been avoiding him like the plague since they'd arrived back in Suna, a guilty look in their eyes as well.
Gaara, who still couldn't get used to the idea that he could actually fall asleep, was antsy in his bed and refused to close his eyes to meditate, unwilling to admit he was afraid he might very well be dead and this was all some dream—not that he knew what those felt like really, just in theory.
He was determined to sneak into his office, despite having failed the last 3 times before dark due to it being heavily guarded by their remaining ANBU. But he needed something to occupy his brain, maybe Raccoon could even be persuaded to let him do some work if he tried pouting?
Mind made up, he threw the covers off of his body and slid out of bed, pulling on his Kage robe to give him some sense of comfort and normalcy; then he stalked out of his room to his office, trying to be as stealthy as possible.
As he came upon the door, devoid of ANBU to his luck, he paused upon hearing his siblings' voices drifting out of the slightly cracked door.
"How are the searches going?" Temari sounded ancient and tired, reasoning he would use to convince her to let him come back to work.
"As we thought, there's been no sign of Miyako anywhere in the village." Kankuro answered back with a grunt. "I told you it was a waste of time, we don't even know what we're looking for—it's been nearly three years."
Miyako? He jolted and pressed himself to the wall, trying to will down the beating of his heart so it wouldn't clog up his ears. But what were they doing looking for Miyako? Had she made an appearance at the Akatsuki base? Had she been spotted in the village? He didn't have too long to ponder on these thoughts as his siblings continued.
"And Raccoon?" Temari murmured.
"No sign of her, still. The Council won't let me continue the search for much longer, they're convinced she's dead." He heard Kankuro give out a heavy sigh and shift in his chair uncomfortably.
Tongue heavy in his mouth he backed away from the door, heartbeat even louder in his ears than before. He could feel his breaths getting short as the possibilities settled onto his shoulders.
'Raccoon could be dead. Is this my fault, during the Akatsuki attack somehow, did she—?' The idea that his Right Hand could've died during the attack made him sick to his stomach—how was he supposed to run a country the same without her? She was his rock, he needed her to be able to tear himself away from this fresh trauma. If she wasn't here, who was he going to have morning tea with? Who was going to be able to debate like her? Who was going to encourage him with a single, powerful look, without even showing their face? Who was going to match her aura, her eloquence, her quiet strength?
"Gaara?"
His siblings had jolted out of their chairs, twin looks of worry painted on their faces. Gaara was sure he looked like a mess in pajamas, a Kazekage robe hanging off his frame and disheveled hair.
"Gaara," Kankuro approached him warily, "have you been, are you cry—"
"Tell me everything you know about Raccoon's disappearance." He demanded, ignoring how thick his voice sounded, ripping it from his throat in part as self-punishment and in other parts to hide his feelings. No he wasn't crying over his missing ANBU black ops, because that was mean mourning, and mourning meant permanence and he wouldn't accept that she was dead until he found a body.
G/M
Days later Raccoon would stagger into the Kazekage's office, having ran after only barely waking up in his childhood room outside of his toy box, once she felt his presence.
She would collapse onto the ground, wholly unprofessionally, and weep behind her mask. While Gaara, barely able to maintain professionalism himself, would round his desk faster than ever seen before to pull her into his arms in a move so uncharacteristic his siblings would gape for a whole 2 minutes and let it happen.
"Y-you're alive." Kankuro stuttered, and suddenly tightened his fists over the leaflet of papers he was reading. "You're alive! Oh my god, Raccoon—where have you been, do you know how worried we were—how many search parties we sent—?"
And Raccoon, weaker than she'd ever been in her life, barely able to lift her head from Gaara's shoulder that's how bone tired she was, would give out so wet a cough that the blood would drip down in rivulets from under the mask and stain the Kazekage's floor.
G/M
Kankuro had tried to argue his way into the hospital room to no avail, so he stuck with pacing the hospital corridor while trying not to bite his thumb clean in half.
Gaara and Temari sat with an empty space between them, the former looking stone-faced but paler then even in death, and the latter staring off at nothing.
"What the hell could've happened?" Kankuro muttered to himself. "Where did she go?" He rubbed his face harshly in between his palms, smearing his purple makeup until he looked, actually, quite ridiculous.
"Kankuro, go wash off your face paint, you'll scare the doctor." Temari said hollowly.
"But Raccoon—"
"Will still be in the hospital bed by the time you come back." She shooed him with her hand and he groaned before spinning off to march to the bathroom.
The remaining two siblings didn't say much between them for a beat, simply stared at the door as if staring at it would make it open faster. Then Temari happened to look at her brother, and it dawned on her not for the first time that these last few days had been too much.
He'd died, that was enough of a challenge to get over mentally, but he'd also had the Shukaku extracted from him—a physical adjustment that would take time. He'd had to attend the funeral of a woman who'd sacrificed herself for him, then he'd turned around and learned Raccoon was presumed dead, only for her to waltz back into his office stricken with illness.
"Gaara, you should go back to the office, Kankuro and I can deliver the news to you." She offered, anticipating the head shake.
"I have to see them for myself."
As if eavesdropping Kankuro showed up right when the doctor walked out of the room. Temari forced herself up in the same unhurried fashion with Gaara, with difficulty.
"Kazekage-sama, Kankuro-san, Temari-san." The doctor bowed briefly to each before addressing them with hesitant eyes. "It's best if we review the results inside."
They filed in after the doctor with wary looks to one another, Gaara being the only one able to keep his smooth façade up as they entered the spacious room.
On the bed sat Raccoon, slumped over, mask on and several wires lying in a heap around her while a gaggle of nurses stood in the corner huddled around a chart. They shot occasional un-subtle glances at the ANBU every few moments, presumably after reading something particularly amazing, before whispering lowly to one another.
The doctor cleared his throat and the nurse in the middle, an average woman with brown hair in a low bun under her cap, scurried forward and held out the chart for the doctor.
"You three may go, I will call you when I need you." And with a pointed look in their direction any protests ceased, they bowed and filed out, their whispers "Chakra—" "Dying—" and "I've never seen anything like it!" following them out.
The ANBU sat up as the doctor began his report after a brief flip through of pages.
"To make it short Kazekage-sama, Raccoon-san's chakra network is being…rapidly depleted."
The man blinked owlishly in response, and so the doctor elaborated.
"After some testing and X-rays, which you can see here on the left— The doctor then pointed to two images hanging on the wall behind his head that the trio had totally neglected. The one on the right pictured what could be assumed was a healthy chakra network around the heart—blue, bright and branching out to all the necessary organs properly.
On the left was a heart, Raccoon's, with a chakra network that was so dark it was barely discernable from the picture. The pathways were difficult to see, but of what could be seen, was a dark purple, with far fewer connections and some tears in the tubes funneling chakra to and from the heart.
"We've determined that Raccoon's chakra network is damaged."
"How did this happen? Was it recent?" Kankuro cut, paint-less face all the more stern if the sudden gulp from the doctor was anything to go by.
"We've determined that this was a slow deterioration over time. We can't give a specific date, but our best guess is that this…"the doctor bit his lip, "well, disease is honestly the best word for it, has been eating away at her network for years."
After a brief moment of gawking, Temari sputtered out the next question. "B-but if we're talking years then why are we only seeing symptoms now?"
The doctor sighed, scratching his head in thought. "This is where you won't like the answers, Sabaku-san, but this is a…disease we haven't ever encountered before." He clutched the chart to his chest. "We've seen damaged chakra networks and even chakra depletion over time with the use of now-forbidden or dangerous jutsu, but both of these instances are direct and instant results that produce immediate pain and discomfort." The man paced to the table below the X-Ray machine, shuffling through large pictures before clipping another onto the screen.
"As you can see from the extent of the damage, this is mostly centered around the heart this is why Raccoon-san is experiencing intense chest pains, bloody coughs, and weakness—her heart is failing, and has just now started to effect the outer extremities—" he pointed to the X-Ray now showing a split picture between both arms, the network sporting several frayed connections and less output of chakra. "This means she is losing endurance, muscle tremors, muscle pain, and the ability to control her limbs altogether."
The doctor paused as he took in Gaara's glassy-eyed gaze on the ANBU sitting stiffly in her bed, knuckles white around the thin mattress.
"So you're saying she could—?"
The sentence didn't need to be finished. The doctor nodded stiffly.
"How do we stop it?" Gaara finally spoke, trialing his eyes back to the doctor, looking all the world like he'd never intended to cry in the first place.
"We…don't know." He breathed, jumping at the harsh little hum that broke from Gaara's throat. While he knew the Kazekage didn't have a taste for…hurting people any longer, it still made him reluctant to deliver bad news to the man.
"We'd need to keep her in the hospital for testing, as I said—we've never seen anything like this before, and not knowing the cause makes it difficult to determine what the best course of action is."
"And if she continued to be a shinobi?" Temari questioned, but the doctor shook his head sternly.
"She cannot, if she continues to try and use jutsu she will speed up the disease and…" the doctor's tongue felt abnormally heavy around the word he was so used to saying every day, but still, "death will be inevitable in this case."
He didn't miss the flinch and eyes sweeping over the Kazekage's stock still form. The quiet permeated the room for some minutes, everyone having to sit still amongst the truth and marinate it, before the Kazekage himself seem to smooth his brow, the only tell he really had for being upset, and come to a decision.
"Thank you, doctor."
The man bowed, understanding dismissal when he heard it. "I will leave you alone to discuss." And he promptly fled the room, eager to remove the weight from his shoulders.
'But really,' he wondered, while rubbing out the kinks and rolling his neck, 'the network is unlike anything ever witnessed before, and the damage is so extensive, it's a wonder she's even alive.'
He pivoted on his heel to look at the door to the hospital room he abandoned one last time. 'It's like the only thing keeping her here is the will to live for something.'
G/M
"Raccoon, did you…know?"
She can hear Temari's voice through an underwater film on her ears, it's muffled and she isn't sure why. She can barely remember anything after she passed out the night Sasori and the blonde bomber attacked, only knowing that she woke up in Gaara's room near the toy box elated he was alive and it had apparently been a week later.
She is a useless limp noodle version of herself and she isn't entirely sure why—her head is stuffed with cotton and the only thing she can come up with is that Gaara is strangely empty. All he feels like now is a dimmed sparkler and twilight. Something about him feels drastically changed and she feels like crying because she just doesn't know.
Wait. Temari asked her a question. "Did she know?" She wants to lie. A rational part of her brain that's really only a whisper now tells her to. It feels familiar, like second nature; it makes her sick to her stomach.
"Yes." Slurs out of her mouth instead, along with a vomit of other words Temari probably didn't ask for. "I…I didn't think it would end up like this. It's why I trained so hard on Taijutsu, but with the attack—" She coughed to a stop, more blood dripping from the bottom of her mask as she shivers.
"Okay, okay, shh." Temari is beside her, all cool spring breezes nipping at her weak aura and it's refreshing as she's dabbing at the drops on the bottom of her mask. She doesn't know if this illness of Gaara not knowing who she is will kill her, but if it does she'll miss this.
"They don't know, right?" Temari said, hopefully, "maybe with rest you can beat whatever this is."
Raccoon wanted to laugh so she did, they were weak, and she let Temari rub her back through them as they all sat in another silence again, no one daring to breach the very real actions needed to be taken. Raccoon certainly wasn't going to—if she could she'd live out the few days of her existence by Gaara's side even if it wasn't in the same capacity. But—
"You know…you know what you have to do right? We can't keep you as Right Hand like this Raccoon, it isn't fair to Gaara, but mostly it isn't fair to you. I know your duty is important to you, but your health is important to us." Kankuro, surprisingly, was the one to send reality crashing down onto them. Kankuro, who used to throw mini-temper tantrums when Raccoon would beat him in a spar like a child. Kankuro, who lorded his position as older brother over Gaara's head just for laughs, even if he was the only one laughing.
"Raccoon," Gaara speaks, for the first time since the news was dropped on them. "I hereby relieve you of your duties as my Right Hand." Raccoon trembles, but nods. Her free hand, not clutching her bedframe, is taken by Gaara in a strong grip as he kneels on her bedside. His gaze is so unrelenting that she has to pick her head up and meet it.
Truly no one will ever live up to the standard of excellence you have set. You have gone above and beyond for me, not only as a ninja, but as a friend and confidant. There will be no one else like you, and no one who could possibly replace you."
She sobs, but she doesn't break their gaze because she wants to feel what it's like to be in love with someone more than she ever has been in her entire existence. The itch and urge to tell the truth is burning her throat but she doesn't want to do it to be selfish now, she doesn't want to do it so she can keep this look Gaara gives her forever. It isn't like he's saying these things to her anyway, he's saying it to Raccoon—a persona created to perpetuate cowardice.
"It has been," she breathed, only just stopping herself from bringing their joined hands to her face to nuzzle his, "an honor to work with you, Kazekage-sama. To know who you really are. To have played even a small part in your success. You are not only a great Kazekage, but a greater man. May only prosperity reach you as you continue to grow and shape this nation into a better place for us all."
Gaara squeezed her hand, a thin smile struggling through his otherwise stoic face. The intense atmosphere only broken by Kankuro's own obnoxious sniffles. A wet laugh flowed from Raccoon as Temari elbowed the man in the stomach, grumbling about how he ruins every serious moment.
"Hey, don't cry, I'm sure you'll be back on your feet in a few months." He wipes his own tears in a way he thinks is inconspicuous, causing Raccoon to snort and Gaara to roll his eyes. "And besides, we should be crying!" He throws his hands up in exasperation, though the crinkle in his eye proceeds what will likely be a joke, at Raccoon's expense too, probably. "All this time with you and now you have to retire with us never having seen that gorgeous face of yours. Man, we can't all get what we wish for, huh?"
Raccoon jolted at the word "wish", but Gaara was Gaara too busy rolling his eyes semi-affectionately at his brother's antics to notice.
"Oh come on Gaara! Don't tell me you haven't once wished to see Raccoon's face! I know you're curious." The man continued to jest.
The Kazekage turned back to Raccoon with a playful look on his face that his siblings didn't quite see, non-existent eyebrow pitched up, but said nonetheless. "Yes, I suppose it would be a nice last wish to see your face Raccoon."
Oh how ironic.
Did that count? She snorted internally despite still feeling so fuzzy-headed. There was no rule book for being a genie, you just granted wishes without breaking the natural world order. And if a master said "wish" then it certainly should count.
But did she want to cheapen his last wish, the 5th, the final, with something so frivolous? He hadn't said "I wish" only that it would be a nice "last wish". What a technical conundrum.
In the end it boiled down to this: would she take this opportunity handed to her on a silver platter to tell the truth, finally, or would she invalidate the phrase and prolong her suffering just because she wanted to be near Gaara—and for what? She was too sick to accomplish anything. She'd have to jeopardize her position by staying in the hospital and watching him from afar knowing she couldn't protect him anyway. Why put herself through that? Why put him through that? Just because she didn't want the possibility of never seeing him again? What guaranteed that he wanted her around after he found out who she was anyway?
The entire time she'd thought it over she'd been stiff, something that hadn't gone unnoticed by the siblings, who'd hastened to get through to her foggy mind that she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to. Gaara's steady hand in hers the only thing bringing her back to the present.
"Hey." He said softly, and she'd turned her masked face to his own strangely open one. "We didn't meant to make you uncomfortable—"
"No." She whispered. "I'd be honored to grant my Kazekage his last wish and show you my face." Still her right hand shook as she brought it to her face mask, the last little vestiges of her magic causing the glamour to fall away. She let out a sigh of relief as she slowly unclipped the mask, an errantly short curl that stubbornly had refused to grow springing in between her eyes, her purple eyes, which were now looking into Gaara's astonished seafoam with the sincerest apology that she could muster.
"Surprise." She dropped the mask onto the bed, already feeling the insistent pull of the lamp vibrating the cells in her body to call her back into it's prison. She'd completed her contract, she had no obligation to Gaara anymore. Still—
She laced her fingers of their conjoined hands together, the haze and sickness plaguing her lifting the longer she prolonged their time and fought going back. A pang of relief shot through her—the realization that she'd reached for him and failed the last time she'd tried this. She trailed her eyes from their hands to his face, eyes settling on that "love" scar—a reminder of her failure, but a necessity in shaping Gaara into who he was that she couldn't bring herself to hate.
Her lips were on it, free hand holding the nape of his still frozen neck as she breathed "I'm sorry" over it and "I'll miss you". A feather light kiss over the lines and a contrasting solid hand squeeze were the last things he felt before Miyako dissipated like smoke right before his eyes.
And then chaos erupted all around him, because Raccoon—Raccoon had been Miyako. The entire time.
Teehee.
So anyway that's the end of it, FOR NOW! Seriously go read the top Author's note because IT'S NOT OVER KIDS! There will be a sequel, I repeat, THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL!
It's called The Dream Makers. (Well for now it is). The old version is still up if you want to read that incomplete thing for giggles, but I wouldn't recommend it because you might be hella confused.
Anyway, in other news, I'm going on hiatus… *upside smiley* I need time to rewatch the series (don't worry I'm not that far behind) so I can make the sequel as well as I really want to. Also I'm trying to move, so your girl, is, stressed! Anyway, I'll be back by October, probably the latter half, with the sequel! In the meantime I'll probably post some scenes I came up with that didn't make it into the story and "what ifs" so I won't be completely gone.
I think that's it, I hope you enjoyed this first "book" and I'll see you in the next one!
Shimmer . For . Acronym