Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers Prime or any form of the Transformers franchise

Title: The Problem With Being Different...

Summary:... is that being accepted isn't as easy as it should be. AU-ish.

Warnings: Transgender MtF Miko, follows the same storyline as the show.

...

Her mother had named her Hisato, "One With A Long Life", in hopes that she would live long and age gracefully. Later on, as she got older, she'd joke that she should have named her Arashi, "Storm."

When she was little, she liked runing up and down the stairwell in a little white sundress one of her friends had given her to feel the rush of air. Her mother had chuckled at first, but eventually had grown tired of trying to get her to take it off.

"Hisato, that's not proper wear for a boy your age."

She shrugged and twirled on her feet, giggling. "I like it."

Her mother sighed and shook her head, as she was prone to do. She did that a lot around her, and she could only guess it had something to do with her sundress. But it was one of the only things she had that she liked to wear, so she wore it anyway.

She scrambled down the stairwell as the front door opened, signaling her father's return. "Dad!"

Seeing her skitter down the stairs, he kicked the door shut behind him and picked her up and draped her over his shoulder, dropping his bags. "Careful, Hisato. Wouldn't want the neighbors to see you." He grunted, slowly thunking his way up the stairs, perched across his shoulder, staring at the closed doorway behind them. "Come'on, let's go get some proper house clothes on."


She didn't like her name.

It didn't have anything to do with the name itself, actually. She liked the way it sounded coming from someone else's lips and she liked and respected the meaning behind it. But with the name Hisato came with the familiar blue symbol, because it was a blue name. Not a pink name, not even a mix of the two, but a bright blue one. And that made the name alien to herself, unwanted and untrue.

She really liked the name Miko. She liked it even more than she liked the name Hisato. It slightly ironic and bittersweet- as she was far from a religious person (but, then again, their was nothing ironic on the other meaning for the name "Crimson Truth")- but she would take it as her own legally in a heartbeat.

Hisato Nakadai. Miko Nakadai. The second one had a certain ring to it that the first couldn't compete with, didn't it?

And so, she chucked Hisato aside and became Miko.

At least, that was what she wishes she could say. Her parents loved the name Hisato, and the school addressed her by that familiar blue symbol she loved to hate. She just couldn't find it in her to break it to them just yet.

She was okay with calling herself Miko in private, really. It was just a name, right?


"Hisato, you need a haircut."

"But, I like having my hair long."

"It's not proper. The way you wear it..."

"I like keeping it in a ponytail. It keeps it out of my face."

She sighed. "Alright, you can keep it long-"

She pumped a fist. "Yes!"

"For now."

"Ugh."


Japan is a rather sexist country.

Don't get her wrong, she loved Japan. She loved the people and the safety and the beauty, but anyone who stepped back and took a good look at things knew that Japan was a little behind the times.

Women were to be treated delicately. They were supposed to be forever innocent and naive and be happy housewives who raised the kids and cooked the meals. Men were the ones who went out and earned a true living, coming home to take care of the wife and kids while also striving to do their best and their jobs and at life in general.

It infuriated her at times, but she wasn't really mad at the people. They'd lived that way for thousands upon thousands of years. She could understand their inability to change, even if she didn't like it.

Sometimes she did it too. Sometimes in the dead of night, she found herself scoffing at her dreams of rock and roll and wondering what she was doing with her life. She would snap out of it after a few days of moping, then get back on track.

If there was ever a reason for her to want to hide Miko from the world, the sexism was it.


She'd tried being Hisato before.

Well, being isn't the proper term here. Becoming is more like it. Hisato felt like a mask, a false hood.

And she really had tried. She'd tried to learn to enjoy boys clothes and keeping her hair in a boy's fashion (never a boy's cut, though. She loved her hair to much to cut it). She'd tried to not get upset by the improper use of pronouns everyone used around her, and she'd tried her best to truly become Hisato, to accept the name and gender involved with it, instead of just playing the role given to her.

It never worked.


Her parents had given the okay for hormones, and for that, she was grateful.

Her coming out went as well as she had expected it to. They'd shaken their heads and copped the unoriginal 'it's just a phase' phrase. They still used the incorrect pronouns and she'd never bothered to tell them her chosen name. It'd hurt, it'd hurt badly, but she'd shrugged it off and went about her life, chucking out the old boy's clothes she had and buying herself the girls clothes she'd always wanted using years of saved allowances.

They hadn't wanted her to have hormones. They would mess with her body, they'd said, and it would make things that much messier when she 'came to her senses.'

Still, they'd gone to the doctor with her and gotten her a hormone prescription. Life was good.


While she wasn't particularly fond of the boys school uniform, she hated the girls uniform even more.

It was probably the V-neck that bothered her the worst. Or perhaps it was the tie. Either way, it showed to much skin for her liking, and she'd rather don the uncomfortable boy's uniform than the even more uncomfortable girls uniform.

Which is why she's extremely grateful that public schools in America usually don't have uniforms. It made things much easier that way.


She likes performing at train stations.

Sure, it doesn't have any cool amps or the type of echo that would maximize her performance, but there's always an audience and sometimes people will actually stop and listen to her. Sometimes they even compliments her.

"Your music is loud, but it's interesting."

"Did you write that song yourself? Wow! How did you come up with it?"

Sometimes the people aren't that nice. One time a business man had come up to her and told her that he hoped her future husband would give her better taste before stomping away muttering about 'foolish girls.' Another time an older women had hobbled up and informed her that heavy metal was the music of demons before mumbling a quick prayer over her ("in an attempt to purify her") and practically jogging away.

The worst time had been when a man, disgruntled by her loud mouth and the fact she was wearing the male school uniform, had demanded he meet her parents to inform them of her 'un-lady-like' behavior.

He'd gotten tired of following her after a couple of train stops and had wandered away, grumbling under his breath. She hadn't gotten home until almost one in the morning, but it was worth it to keep her secret past-time a secret.


She hadn't been the one to fill out the paper work for her to go to Jasper, but she had been the one who went behind them and changed her name and gender on the papers before slipping them into the mail box.

She'd been ecstatic to go. How could she not be? This was her big chance! She could play her music as loud as she wanted, she could practice whenever she wanted, she could be herself.

And, yeah, she had to admit, it was a bit of a cowards move. Running away from the place that knew Hisato and Miko to a place that would only know Miko. But, hey, it was more than worth it if she got some time to herself away from her family, right?

So packing her bags had made her feel a little bit guilty, but she still walked onto the plane with her head held high.

Goodbye, Japan. Hello, Jasper, Nevada, 'Entertainment Capital Of The World.'


Giant robots, space ships, juggling school work (and failing horribly), sneaking hormone pills when she could and being on withdrawals when she couldn't, lot's of weapons, lot's of off-linings and car parts, two new best friends, a set of awesome amps, and lot's of heavy metal music.

It could be said that she was very entertained. And busy. And slightly scared. And seriously stoked and for the cause.


The Wreckers don't pick candidates based on gender, Wheeljack had told her. They judged new members by strength, tactical abilities (or lack thereof), mental stability (or lack thereof), and just plain pure awesomeness. Most Wreckers didn't even consider species.

So, yes, it could be said that Miko fist-pumped when she'd heard the news. It also could be said that she'd done a small happy dance/jig/thinga-ma-bob in the privacy of her room, music blaring.

It also could be said that that was the first time in many weeks that she didn't think about Hardshell and missles, and that moment had paved way for her slow forgive/forget process.

What could she say? She was simple like that.


She told Bulkhead the truth one night, sitting on the edge of a cliff and watched the stars.

She gave the 'bot credit; he didn't say a word throughout her entire spheal. Instead, he quietly sat next to her and tried to make sense of the mess that was her body, just like she had for years before him.

After a long bout of silence, he spoke. "Most 'bots can have their body structure changed- a select few can change and be whichever they like whenever they like- pretty easily... does Earth have anything like that?"

"Dude, I wish..." She chuckled, flopping onto her back with a sigh, palms flat against the dusty ground as she stared up at the stars. "They do, but to get the full package... It costs a lot of money. And, if you haven't noticed, I'm kinda broke." She nodded to herself. "My parents are in denial, so they'll never fork over any money. Besides, I hear the surgery hurts a lot, so I'm a no go." She swallowed. "It's bad enough I'd have to trust a buncha people I hardly know to knock me out and mess with my body, but it's gonna hurt for awhile afterwards? Pssh, no thanks." She chuckled, roughly swallowing down tears. It wasn't like she'd planned on surgery down there anyway, so she wasn't sure why she was getting all teary-eyed talking about it. Hormones, she guessed. They made her sensitive about the strangest things.

"I see..." He trailed off, glancing away from her face to search the sky as though it had any real answers. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because..." She sighed. "You won't be around much longer..."

"Miko, that's-"

"Don't lie to me, Bulk. It's only a matter of time before you all can finally ship out back to Cybertron. Sure, we'll still see each other- Heh, it'd take a lot more than Ultra Magnus' and his lectures to stop me from coming along on missions- but,... it won't be the same, and it's best to get this off my chest now rather than later. Like, when they're cutting me open for-emergency-surgery-from-an-injury later."

Bulkhead didn't answer. He didn't have to. It was one of those moments when they were both on the same page.


Jack and Raf found out the day she got on the plane to return to Japan.

Well, it wasn't like she hadn't made it obvious weeks earlier when she'd dragged them along to buy her a change of guys clothing for the trip back (her parents still thought she'd gone as Hisato, not Miko). Or when she'd taken down her pig-tails and styled it in a more boy-ish fashion while also letting the pink dye fade away. Or- well, you get the point. She'd given them plenty of hints.

But still, she was rather sure they didn't put two and two together until her mother had come running up to hug her, jabbering on in broken English on how her 'son' had 'become a man' and how she'd missed 'her little Hisato.'

Or maybe it had been the returned hug and the mumbled "Nice to see you too, Mom." Before sullenly pulling her suitcase behind her, shoulders slumped as she refused to look back.

And, yes, she'd managed to get an upside down picture of their faces as they'd disappeared into the crowds. And, yes, she'd spent most of the flight home staring at the blurry photo on her phone, wondering if that was disgust or just extreme shock on their faces. Did you really have to ask?


Miko spent the next year worrying.

She knew they knew everything- Raf probably hacked into who-knows-what and now knows every single thing she's ever done in her lifetime. Sometimes she'll even get calls from Bulkhead, and he'll be laughing about some embarrassing thing she'd done wen she was little. Suffice to say, she isn't very happy with the invasion of her privacy, even if it was completely called for.

Bulkhead doesn't say much about it, and Bulkhead's the only one she really talks to. Conversation between the others is just... awkward. Jack and Raf avoid any use of her name and pronouns of any sort while they're still working things out, and the other 'bots are too busy and not quite sure what to make of things. Acree is the only one to have brought the subject, and it was mostly a 'explain this to me?' type of thing.

She spends more than a few nights staring at the picture, wondering what they had thought and what they were thinking. Had they even considered it? Did they think it was all a big joke? Were they still in the dark about everything?

She knows it's cowardly (and probably against some Wrecker rule in some way or another) but she considers backing out on going back to Jasper, but this was about more than her problems- this was about war and aliens and a separate world thrust into disaster- so she doesn't even mention it to her parents (then again, her parents don't know much of anything that happened- all they know is that she's got a study club waiting for her ad she knows a government agent. And that's it) but instead merely packs her bags like she had last year and waited for the day to come.

Her mother doesn't fly back with her, thank goodness, so she can wear the clothes she likes and put her hair up into her favorite style (she changes in the airport bathroom), and she spends the flight there sleeping and wondering.

Jack and Raf are waiting for her in the parking lot, and she can see the familiar clash of green parked next to them, a sign that says 'Welcome back, Miko' crudely taped and propped up onto the top, an old drawing of the Wreckers insignia she remembered doodling and giving to someone- who, she couldn't quite put a finger on- photo-shopped onto the front.

It took all of her energy not to drop her backs and do an air-guitar/happy dance/jig-thing that would probably look more like a seizure than it would dancing, because they used her right name, dangit, and they seemed totally at ease about it and that's the best thing ever and she's pretty sure she squealed in the middle of the second floor of a crowded airport but she couldn't care less.

It's at that point she realizes that the old corny phrase about true friends always accepting each other could be true after all and races down the steps as fast as physically possible towards her friends/family, feeling more at home than ever.

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