I'm baaaaack. It's been like 7 years, but I'm starting over, this time with a determination to finish. You'll notice that a lot of things are different in this version, especially the characters and some of the events, but it's essentially the same Miyako you all know and love.

I look forward to your feedback old and new! Let's get started.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto and this is a work of fiction.

A Wishful Thinker Indeed

The best part of being a child is the naiveté, in believing in people, miracles and magic. Most people, most parents, would attempt to preserve this feeling for as long as possible. The Fourth Kazekage and the Village Hidden in the Sand were not made up of those types of people, at least not for Sabaku No Gaara.

Today, like all other days, Gaara was alone. After being released from the Academy for the day, he had tried to muster up the courage to ask one of his classmates to play. A group of rowdier boys liked to toss around a ball after school, and he thought that maybe they wouldn't mind his sand as much.

'They seem tough,' he was slowly collecting his books as a courtesy to the students and teacher. He'd learned since long ago that if he reacted to quickly in getting out of his seat, everyone would freeze and refuse to move until he'd left, conversely, if he moved too slowly and was the last in the class, the teacher would get anxious and throw him suspicious looks. He began to time his exits with the same group of tough boys that left last in the class, trailing out just before them; imagining he was a part of their loud conversations about practicing together and friendly mocking between them.

'Maybe they won't mind the sand.' He absentmindedly walked down the steps towards the door, eyes searching until they caught the group at the front of class, grumbling.

"You three are a disgrace! How do you ever expect to become suitable ninja for Sunagakure when you can't even keep your eyes open in class?" Nasaki-sensei lectured, her finger wagging. The three boys in question scoffed, toeing the floor and refusing to acknowledge such nonsense. Gaara paused in his walk, wondering if speaking up would make the boys more willing to play with him later on.

'If I stick up for them, then maybe we could all leave class together and kick around the ball!'

"You'll never pass the Academy if you don't apply yourselves! Do you want to be students forever?" The boy closest to the door, snorted, crossing his arms in defiance. "No way! I'm going to pass the graduation test and become a Genin in no time, then a Chuunin, then a Jounin, and I'll be an even better sensei then you Nasal-sensei!" Nasaki-sensei balked, cheeks coloring in embarrassed fury as she sputtered to form a reply.

"It's true, you do have a nasally voice." Gaara blurted in a sudden rush of confidence, and all four turned their attention to him, stiffening rapidly as they noticed he was the only one left in the classroom besides present company.

"Gaa-Gaara-sama." Nasaki-sensei paled. "You-you're still here." She clasped her hands together and he noticed how they shook, "Ah- is there something you need from me?"

He frowned, which only seemed to exacerbate her reaction, as she wrung her hands tighter to steady the shake that had taken over her body.

One of the boys directly in front of her had recovered from his shock in the meantime, and whirled back around to face their sensei, a mask of bravado on his face. "Well, if the monster of Sand says it, it must be true. Maybe you should stop nagging so much before he kills you!"

At the mere mention of it, Nasaki-sensei's tremble worsened, and her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "I-I'm sorry, Gaara-sama." Her voice was a whisper that had Gaara shrinking behind his books. This wasn't what he wanted to accomplish, he thought he was just poking fun.

"Well then, we're going to go," The middle boy, the apparent leader, spoke again and sniffed as if he hadn't just used Gaara to threaten someone's life. "Waste of time." He grumbled under his breath. And he and his crew skulked out the door quickly, leaving Gaara with a trembling teacher. The redhead was at a loss, torn between apologizing to his teacher and running after the crew, his eyes rapidly shifting between the ajar door and the hyperventilating teacher. His morals had just won out, rationalizing that he could catch up with them, but as he opened his mouth to apologize, his teacher, who had been eyeing him like a cornered skittish mouse, backed into the blackboard and gave a whimpered "please" that knocked all breath from him. He turned his eyes from her, and threw a gruff, "sorry" over his shoulder as he marched out the room, heart lurching the whole while.

He'd made it halfway to the playground before he spotted them headed for their usual goal. Spite the earlier incident, he didn't just want to give up without at least asking. Feeling some energy return to him, he quickened his pace.

"Ah, wait!" He called, but they were laughing too loudly to hear him. "Wait!" He called again, catching up to them at, of all places, a sandbox.

The children turned, curiosity turning to sneers when they recognized who it was. "What do you want?" The leader questioned loudly, attracting the attention of the other children in the playground.

"Ah, um, I just wanted to see if I could..." The rest of his sentence was mumbled into his chest.

"Ha! For the most feared monster in the village you sure are timid, what's so scary about you anyway?" The boy jeered, his companions backing him up with taunts of "speak up, stupid!" and "where's your voice now, monster?"

That's right, I shouldn't be so weak, if I want to play with the tough boys, I have to be strong like them!

"I, I just want to play ball with you guys!" He shouted, little fists balled up in determination.

The boys suddenly hiccupped, backing away a little, as multi-colored glittering sand rose from the nearby sand box, swirling around Gaara threateningly.

"A-as if we'd w-want to play with you, leave us alone!" The leader tried to make himself look big, feet spread, shoulders out, fists balled, but his back bowed a little, his eyes shifted from Gaara to the sand and back, and he could hear his companions backing away slowly.

"B-but, I-" The sand lurched forward, sending the two boys behind the leader to the ground screaming and backing away, tough act crushed immediately.

"S-stop! Leave us alone I said!" He shouted, to the chorus of the children's screams all around them. "You-you beast!" The boy picked up a nearby rock and hurled it at the tear-faced Gaara's head. The sand whorled, crushing the rock with ease and charged towards the boy, narrowly missing as he scrambled away.

"W-wait, please! I'm sorry!" The redhead cried, reaching out to the retreating figures. It seemed as every grain of sand from the sandbox rushed to his aid, reds, purples, blues and oranges surged forward and snapped at the heels of the retreating figures, but just failed to catch them.

Seeing how he'd failed again, Gaara trudged over to the now empty sandbox, still sobbing, the sand cocooning him in a less-than-satisfactory hug. He moved his arm to coax the sand back into the box, when his blurry vision caught something large and dark lying amongst the remaining few grains.

He walked closer, rubbing his eyes furiously of the remaining tears. "What's this?" He kneeled to inspect it, a dark colored bottle, almost as large as he was, apparently buried in the sandbox, if it's dusty appearance was anything to go by.

"A bottle? Did someone lose it?" He grasped it, and with the help of the sand nudged it closer to himself. Upon closer inspection, he could make out golden characters around the base and neck of the bottle. "It's heavy," he huffed, squinting as the sand helped lift it into his vision to get a better look.

"What does it say? I can't read it, it's too dirty." He mumbled. His little palms wiped away the pesky grains clinging to the bottle, revealing it's deep purple color and pulsing gold characters.

"Waaah, it's glowing, cool." He continued to dust off the bottle, unbeknownst to him, the porcelain cork had fallen off, and tendrils of inky dark purple smoke had begun to plume out of its top.

"Who-who-so-ever owns this lamp, owns the great power inside." He read aloud, unnoticing of a shadow looming behind him, the remnants of smoke dissipating to reveal a woman.

She stretched, toes digging into the sand warmed by the waning afternoon sun, rolling bare shoulders and working out the kinks from being stuffed in a lamp for who knows how long with long fingers.

She was a map of bronzed skin bared to the world, small golden chains jingled around otherwise bare feet, a long left leg peeked out the slit of an ankle length sheer purple skirt, the top corded with little golden chains resting just below her natural waist. From the waist up she was a scandalous show of skin, with only a purple bikini styled top laced together with more tiny gold chains covering her chest. Her neck was wrapped in a choker styled cuff that sported a keyhole in front and slightly larger, but still dainty gold chains splayed across her back. Finally, her expression was masked by a silken purple veil over her nose and mouth, but bright purple eyes gave way to curiosity, fingers moving to unconsciously tug at long, dark curls that cascaded from a high ponytail and just kissed her waist.

"A child?" She wondered aloud, eyes crinkling when the boy started, little palms still holding the lamp.

"Who-who are you?" One hand came to curl a little defensively in front of his chest, his seafoam eyes staring into purple cautiously.

The woman slowly kneeled, her palms coming to rest on her knees and bowed her head. "Little master, I am the genie of this lamp. What is it that you wish from me?" Her voice was smooth, but brusque and Gaara frowned a little.

"Genie? Genies don't exist." He grumbled, eyes distrustful.

The woman raised her palm into the air between them, eyes looking on boredly, "They don't? Then maybe you don't want to see me do something cool without a handsign?"

Gaara's eyes widened. "A jutsu without a handsign! Not possible!" He crowed, unconsciously scooting closer to the woman who's eyes once again crinkled in amusement.

"Who said anything about jutsu? I can do magic." And then, with a wiggle of her fingers, a small little fireworks show started in the palm of her hand, multi-colored swirls and bursts splashing in miniature right in front of little Gaara's eyes. He jumped, but then approached once again to marvel, mouth opened into a little o and both hands clasped into excited fists, sand unconsciously wriggling around them.

"Cool!" He reached out to touch the moment she closed her fist and it vanished.

"Ah, ah." She rested her palms back on her knees. "You see, magic. Now do you believe?"

Gaara hummed and hawed, but nodded his head eventually, as he'd never seen something like that before.

"Now then, what is your wish little master?" She repeated, observing as he squirmed slightly.

"Wait! Before that, we have to introduce ourselves!" He stated, quite firmly, nodding to himself.

The woman blinked, a little shocked. 'He's cute' She thought fleetingly. "Very well."

"I am Sabaku No Gaara, I'm 5 years old, and I'm a student at the Academy." He announced proudly, eyes shimmering in the steady twilight. "What's yours?"

The woman dug her fingers into the sand, eyes staring out into the landscape unseeing. 'Sabaku? After so long, how could I not have noticed?' She traced her eyes back to the eager little boy, a warm look in her eyes despite herself. 'That hair,' she roved her eyes to the still shifting sands, 'he commands the sands. Surely he must be your relative.'

"Um…miss?"

She blinked back into reality to see little Gaara waving a hand in front of her face.

"I'm so sorry little master. My name is Kurosawa Miyako." She paused, briefly scolding herself for giving out her full name, but this was a child, he'd hardly know who she really was.

"Oh, hi Miyako-san! Ah, but wait, how old are you?" He questioned innocently, finger to his lip, and one hand, she noticed, still on the lamp that was being held up by sand.

"Hmmm, little master, don't you know you shouldn't ask a woman her age?" She would've chastised herself for teasing the kid, but his blush was too cute.

"Ah, I'm sorry." He looked right scolded, toeing the ground nervously.

"It's alright, to tell you the truth I don't really know." She shrugged, further amused by his shocked expression.

"What? Don't you have a birthday? Ah well, I've never had one, but haven't you ever had a birthday party?" At this point the little boy was inches from her, seafoam eyes staring up at her curiously.

She tried to school her befuddled expression quickly, her practiced mask taking its place once again.

"I do have a birthday, and I have had birthday parties, but it's been quite some time." She explained. The little redhead titled his head in wonder. "Why?"

Miyako pointed to the lamp still being grasped at by the sands. "I've been in there for a very long time, so I've lost track of my age." She shrugged at his gape. "You lived in there?" He pointed to the object as well, as if just to clarify, causing Miyako to throw her head back and laugh heartily. She ran her hand through his hair as an apology, his pout and blush a killer combo.

"It must've been cramped." He mumbled, shuffling closer to her and leaning into her petting.

She put her two fingers together, measuring her discomfort and causing him to erupt into a fit of giggles.

"So you're a genie." He continued, finger back on his chin. "And you're going to grant me 3 wishes?"

"5 wishes." She corrected, her hand stilling on his head.

"5? Why?" He titled his head back up to look at her.

"Well you're 5 aren't you? So you get 5 wishes." She traced a finger down to boop his nose, causing him to go cross-eyed much to her amusement.

"And what would the little master like to wish for?" She prompted after a stretch of silence, and he pouted again, thinking hard.

"Can I think about it?" He finally said and she dutifully nodded, it wasn't her job to rush her masters after all.

"Great! Can we talk while I think?" He lit up, grabbing Miyako's hand and awaiting her response eagerly.

Miyako blinked, not at all used to a master asking for something, much less asking her for permission. But she supposed it was normal, he was a child and she an adult, he naturally looked to her for guidance even though the power was entirely in his hands. Obviously he didn't understand what he'd found, and she wasn't necessarily eager to let him know. He was a cute kid to boot, but she was world-weary, and naturally distrustful of every master that held her lamp until proven otherwise.

"Of course." She agreed amicably. He then started insistently tugging on her arm, prompting her to rise to her full height. "C'mon!" He cheered, tugging her away from the sandbox.

"Where are we going little master?" They paused next to her lamp being carried by sands, Gaara mumbling that they should probably bring it because it was her house. She stifled giggles as he struggled to balance himself under the weight of the lamp.

She took pity on him, her finger lighting up slightly, and ran it once over the length of the lamp, shrinking it down to where it fit perfectly into his little palm. He cheered again and gave her a bright thank you, before carefully pocketing her lamp and grabbing her hand again.

"We're going to my favorite spot! You can see the whole village, and the moon!" He tugged her along, pointing up to an opening that appeared to be in the village's perimeter walls.

"You climb up there all by yourself?" She wondered aloud. He beamed up at her, pausing momentarily to puff out his chest. "The sand helps me, but yeah! I get up there all by myself." He then went back to firmly holding two of her fingers in his tiny fist and tugging her along again; she easily keeping up with his jogging gait in two or three long strides.

Finally they reached the wall and sand started to gather around their feet. "I hope I can get us both up there though." He mused, though he looked very determined.

"Do you want to see something else I can do that's cool?" She offered, and he nodded eagerly, his expression already prepared for amazement. She bent down and scooped him cradling him to her side as they rose from the ground gently, hovering just above the pavement.

Gaara clapped, though he clutched his hands around her neck in the next second when they suddenly took off, letting out a peal of excited laughter. They swooped up the side of the wall, rapidly ascending and ascending until they reached a little nook just big enough for three people to squeeze into comfortably. Miyako gently sat Gaara down, who wiggled to the side so she could crawl in as well, the purple light cloaking her vanishing as she settled down.

"That was so awesome, you're awesome Miyako-chan." She laughed as he pumped his fists and didn't protest when he crawled into her lap and proceeded to ask her all sorts of questions.

When he'd lulled to a little of a quiet, resting his squishy into the crook of her shoulder, she traced the red raises across his cheeks. "You were crying before I showed up." She stated simply, barely holding back a coo as he cracked one eye open to gaze at her.

"I…some kids were being mean to me. They called me all sorts of names, I just wanted to play with them." He said sadly, turning his gaze out to the village, which from this vantage point, was bathed in sleepy blue light, dotted with soft yellows as far as the eye could see. Over it against an inky sky was a half moon.

"You don't want to play with kids like that Gaara, kids who call you mean names are bullies." She pulled his red strands through her fingers again and he turned back to her, looking solemn.

"But all the kids are like that, and the adults. No one wants to play with me, not Dad, not Temari or even Kankuro." He sniffed, burying his face into her side.

"Temari and Kankuro, your siblings?" She guessed and he nodded still refusing to come out of her side.

"I don't have any friends," he looked up at her forlornly. "Yashamaru is the only one who is nice to me."

"Yashamaru?" She encouraged.

"He's my uncle." He then looked back up into her eyes, transforming for a second from a child to a forlorn soul who'd clearly seen too much in his 5 years.

"My mommy had purple eyes too. Yours are brighter though, I wonder if she brought you to me."

Miyako didn't miss the "had" in that sentence, nor the fact that he hadn't mentioned his mother in the list of people who wouldn't play with him. She lifted his chin, smiling sadly at his already watery eyes.

"I'm sure of it. She wants you to be happy, Gaara." He let out a little hiccup, burying his face back into her shoulder.

"B-but, everyone thinks I'm a monster, and mommy died because of me." He leaned back a little to hold his heart, expression tormented and Miyako rubbed his back, hating how miserable he looked.

"The sand, it protects me, but—" His lower lip trembled, "my heart still hurts." He whimpered and suddenly he clambered up to hold Miyako's shoulders.

"Miyako-chan, can you fix my heart?" He brought one hand to it, "I don't want it to hurt anymore."

Miyako gently wiped away his tears with her fingers, the crease in her brow the only outward sign of her discontent expression.

"Gaara, what you have I unfortunately cannot fix for all my power." She cupped his face, now frowning deeply. "Love is one of the only things this magic of mine cannot make."

He sniffed and laid his head on her neck for a bit, closing his eyes and thinking deeply. He didn't want to be alone any longer, but how could he fix that? Miyako implied that he needed love, and that she couldn't make it, so how did he achieve it? What did he have to do?

If he thought about what he wanted more than anything it was friends. He wanted something like what he'd had with Miyako-chan tonight all the time. He wanted to laugh along with someone, play games and train with someone, hold and be held by someone.

"Miyako-chan." He mumbled into her neck and she hummed to show she was listening. "If you had a wish, what would you wish for?"

Her absent-minded stroking of his back stopped, making him whine, but this child never ceased to amaze her, and it hadn't even been a night.

But to be honest? She'd never thought of that before. After all, what was the point? She hadn't been given an opportunity to think selfishly in quite some time.

Her first thought screamed freedom. She would wish to be free from this existence, this long existence she'd lost count of. But she imagined Gaara didn't want to hear that, she imagined that Gaara wanted to hear what she would wish for if she was in his position.

It saddened her, he was clearly a sweet child, powerful but sweet. To not only have lost a mother, but in the process to have everyone you ever cared about and an entire village turn their backs on you. She brought her free hand to her heart as it echoed her little master's pain powerfully. The connection she had with this master, this tiny boy, was strong. She felt more powerful than she had before, so powerful that she was wired awake and alert in ways she hadn't experienced.

It somehow felt familiar to her and all-together too much. She searched her brain for where she'd encountered this type of power before, but was drawing blanks for now.

She still had a question to answer. If she were Gaara, what would she want? She stroked his back again lightly before answering.

"I cannot make love, and I cannot change feelings Gaara. But, I would wish for someone to understand me."

Gaara leaned back and blinked, the weight of the situation suddenly dawning on him. He was about to use magic to change the course of his life somehow, he understood now, somehow from her answer, that she was warning him, giving him a way out. It sounded like a good wish, but who would he want to understand him? Who deserved to?

Miyako had said that all the kids that called him names were bullies. Did he really want someone like that to understand him?

But it couldn't be all that bad if he wished for his siblings to understand him right? They were his family. But then…shouldn't they have already made the effort?

He looked at Miyako intensely, her purple eyes regarding him in just as much scrutiny.

If anyone would listen to him, could grasp his life, wouldn't it make sense for it to be someone he'd never encountered before? Someone who was obligated to give him whatever he desired?

Aside from that though, he liked Miyako, he didn't know what it was about her, but he trusted her. He'd told her things tonight that he hadn't gotten the chance to tell anyone, and she'd been nothing but kind to him.

But his still wasn't…sure, he didn't know what he needed to hear to he trusted that it would be obvious.

"Why do you hide your face?" He suddenly asked.

"Hmmm?" She looked to the left. "Well, it's to protect myself." She settled Gaara back into her lap. "There's people in this world who would use this," she enveloped her hand in the fireworks again, "for something terrible." She closed her fist over the fireworks show, though it morphed for a delightful spectacle to crackling energy that sparkled between her fingers, sparks leaping in the air in a deadly fashion.

"So I have to make sure those people don't ever find me. Do you understand?" He nodded and reached a hand up to skim his fingers over the veil. "That's sad, that you can't be truly yourself." He murmured before taking back his hand. "Can I see? Someday?" He whispered. She ruffled his hair once again and sighed.

"Maybe." A pregnant pause, and then he was shooting questions at her all over again. They continued on into the night until Gaara was yawning, face smushed into her shoulder, whole body curled and cradled to her side.

"Shouldn't you sleep?" Miyako's voice, the longer they spoke, took on a lulling quality that Gaara had to fight not to surrender to. He felt too comfortable, and forced his eyes open to look at her with a half-lucid grin.

"I can't, if I do the monster comes out." He touched his stomach. "He does bad things to people. I don't know why, I think he's angry."

Miyako stilled, a rush of awareness falling down upon her like a ton of bricks. That's why the feeling felt familiar, she remembered, just before Gaara, there was a man called Bee in Kumo who felt the same. She couldn't distinguish it at first, because being able to sense the immense chakra inside of someone and being tied to that chakra were two totally different sensations. She had felt wary the few times she and her previous master had run into Bee, even though he seemed an agreeable fellow, it felt like his presence was pressing against every nerve-ending to encourage surrender. With Gaara it just felt like she was perpetually on a food pill, her alertness, her power, everything felt up, she was wired and more dangerous than she'd ever truly been. She also felt more connected to Gaara than she had to any master before, his feelings permeated her, and confused her a few times this night that they were truly her own.

She would have to search this connection at some point in their time together to understand what exactly this monster was inside of her tiny master.

"Maybe he is Gaara." She pinched his cheek, making him pout, but effectively waking him up. "But you have to remember that the monster inside you isn't you. What has been done to you doesn't give anyone the right to treat you the way that they do." He looked more marveled at that thought than he had the entirety of the night.

He sat up slowly, his hands braced on Miyako's shoulder while she gazed up at him with an arched eyebrow.

"Miyako-chan, I wish that you would stay by my side and understand me," he made little fists, "I want you to be my friend!"

Miyako blinked up at the precocious child. She certainly knew that he would use her earlier suggestion to his favor, but she didn't think he'd use his wish on her. She thought he'd pick someone he already knew, but then again, she knew that nothing was guaranteed with the people around him, who'd grown up with him and knew exactly what his monster was capable of.

Just because you wished for someone to understand you didn't mean that that person would necessarily do right by you. There are plenty of people who can understand a side to a story and still choose themselves and self-preservation. Miyako, in a sense, was like a clean slate. Aside from what he'd told her, she knew next to nothing about him, she didn't have any bias. She wondered if he'd also figured out that she was much, much older than she looked, and had experienced the evils of the world ten-fold. There was very little at this point that could surprise her.

Regardless if he'd thought of all this or not, she had a wish to fulfill didn't she?

"Very well little master, so you wish it so it must be." Her eyes glowed momentarily, before she was suddenly encased in dark purple smoke once again, similar to her entrance into this world.

Gaara watched entranced as it swirled and obscured his vision. It wasn't suffocating, but it was thick, so he closed his eyes and waited, limbs trembling from excitement.

"Gaara?" A voice like bells called, and something small was touching his face. He opened his eyes to a miniature of Miyako, though this time her face was on display, same bright purple eyes, but with a button nose and heart shaped lips that pouted when he didn't react immediately.

"Gaaaaaaaraaa, don't tell me you've fallen asleep with your eyes open?" She waved a small, slender hand in his face and he snapped out of it.

"Miyako-chan, you're a kid!" He cried and then gasped. "And your face is uncovered!" She let out little giggles and let him pinch her cheeks.

"You're so cute!" He blurted, but slapped a hand over his mouth, cheeks coloring violently. Miyako couldn't stop laughing then, and Gaara couldn't stop smiling like an idiot.

When she'd finally calmed down she grinned widely, pearly teeth wide and on display. "I'll race you down to the sandbox!" She suddenly squealed, squeezing his hand between her own before leaping out of the hole.

"Miyako-chan!" He quickly poked his head out, only to find her floating just below him, grinning cheekily. "C'mon!" She urged again, and blew a raspberry. "Last one there has to do whatever the other says tomorrow!" Gaara smirked, "I'm gonna win it then!" And sand rushed up to meet him as he stepped out of their hidey hole.

He chased her bell-like laughter all the way there, grinning wider than he had in all the years he'd lived. And when they crashed into the multi-colored sand together where they first met only hours before, rolling around and laughing like no one was watching, Gaara knew he'd made the right choice.

Chapter 1, (re)done! Let me know what you think if you're still out there! See you at the next one!

She's. Fantastic. Acronym.