Her arms burnt like a furnace, the upper arm muscles felt loose. The bottom of her feet stung as she pounded up and down the metallic hall. Her breath never came easy, her throat was in a cold, burning pain as she heaved. Optimus's blade shot past her ear, she fell back, bending her knee and then using that same leg to launch herself forward. The spike at the head of the axe speared his hips. His blank eyes did not even blink as he fell back. A roar ripped through her throat as she swung downwards. Through his collar bone, down to where his lungs should have been, straight down almost following his spine and then it broke down to slide down his hip. The static consumed him as his corpse disappeared. She spun as blue sparks hit the ground beside her boots. She slid along the ground, twisting her body to face the combatant. Bumble Bee stood there, both energon pistols out as he shot vaguely in her direction.

She rolled her eyes, of course he put it into the easy setting…

Scrambling to her feet, she gripped the blade in both hands, stronger hand on the end. She angled it so she dragged it in the air, putting almost her weight forward. She swung downwards and his head came off in half. The static filled her ears as she took her deep breaths. The silence was not complete, she still could hear the softest hums of the engine from several decks below, the air circulating into the room from the vents. She could also hear the scratching of metal as he stroked her chin, watching her progress with great interest.

It was interesting to think, this was all for her. To better her, to improve her. To harness the skills they had almost let go to waste and punish her for. She looked at her hands, wrapped in bandages, and what skin was revealed was bright red. Without the bandages, her skin would have been peeling like mad, friction burns and sores from where she gripped the axe so tightly. She nodded to the control panel, a simple message, continue.

She turned as Arcee materialized and it all started again. She remembered what he said.

Left leg, right leg, left right, dodge, one, two, three, strike!

Left key, right key, left hand, right hand, tap the pedal, one and two and one and two, and chord.

The heat from the lamps was intense, between that and the makeup and the amount of hair products her mother put in… She wasn't to unsure she wouldn't get a heatstroke. She bowed her head, and lifted it as she started on the next line. She glanced to the left and saw the auditorium full of people, students, teachers, parents, guardians, judges, newspaper people and the rest. All eyes on her, watching her and judging her. Scrutinizing every move she made, how she placed her hands against the keys of the piano. How she held her head, how her hair was falling in small strands. The flashes from the phones made her wince, the flashing lights added to the brightness of the others. Her fingers were sore and pink. She had been practicing all last night. She wanted to succeed this time!

…

She needed to.

Again she looked, to the left row, sixth row. She saw her Grandparents first, her Grandmother had the small polaroid. Her Grandfather was clapping along, in time with her. Her mother, bless her, looked so tired. She nodded along as her granddaughter played.

Then there was the empty chair beside her, the chair was always empty. For as long as she was performing. She looked back at the keys, it all felt like a blur. Her throat felt full and hot, like it was about to burst. Finally with a loud note, the song ended. Her head fell forward as she took deep breaths. She stood, turned and bowed to them, all clapped in a mannerly order as her mother and Grandfather stood to applaud. She kept her head down, and tried not to cry.

Finally she looked up.

Her hands raised up as the volleyball fell against it. Bouncing back into the air, there was a great roar as her teammates slammed it back to the other side. She was quick as she ran around. She was the spiker, and she loved it.

She laughed as one teammate bounced the ball away from the ground, falling on his stomach. The other bounced it high and she jumped. Slamming it down to the other side. The other just falling short, as the dust kicked up into his face. The coach blew his whistle and the game ended. She laughed as she high fived the others. She was the only girl on the under-18 volleyball team for Jasper high school. She almost didn't make it, but the coach decided she was too good to pass up. She took her water bottle from her bag and started to chug the litre bottle. Her teammates beside her, laughing and talking. As she pulled the bottle down and joked with them. They responded in kind, she smiled as she picked up the spare volleyball. She threw it up, her hands curled together in, fingers locked together and she bounced it back up. Taking two steps back, she bounced it again. One more time, and she caught it this time. The coach's assistant called her, with his hands raised.

She threw the ball over.

The soft thud against his skull was quieter than she thought it'd be. As she saw it, she had realized what she had done and guilt filled her.

Jack stumbled back, but he just laughed. The soft tennis ball bounced a bit away from them, the others watched, a little stunned by her action. She went red faced.

"Jack! Jack, dude! Did it before I realized!" She stepped forward, pulling the guitar down from her. Placing it back into her bag. He smiled down at her.

"It's fine, just next time answer when I call you." He lifted up the guitar cord in his other hand. It was once plugged into the amp, which had been blaring as she played.

Ratchet 'hmed' and turned back to his work. She sheepishly smiled, the point of attention of everyone else.

Miko Nakadai, 15 years old. Born April 15, 1995 in Tokyo Japan. The first ever human Wrecker.

"As I was asking, what are you doing for the Easter break, did ya folks keep their promise?" Jack asked as Miko went back to the bag. Her soft expression hardened as she stopped zipping the bag.

"What do you think?" She snapped, the soft thud of metallic footsteps stopped beside her. She looked up as Optimus sat beside her. He, bar Bumble Bee, was the only Bot to sit when talking to the kids. It helped with the height difference, and it made Rafael feel happier and safer.

His expression was soft as Miko looked up at him.

"I'm sorry Miko, that they broke their promise again…" He sighed as she finished zipping up the bag. She walked up the stairs and shrugged.

"Ain't the first time. They said at Christmas they'd come over, they

said it during the Halloween break!" She ranted. The Autobots and humans were still getting use to each other, the Cybertronians getting use to how dramatic the human relationships could be. Miko was a special kind of drama. Many just tried to ignore it, giving nods as their form of support, but Optimus was actually there for her. Sitting down and talking to her to lengthy extents.

"Well, you may spend as much time as you desire with us." He nods to her, Miko smiled as she bounced beside the railing.

"I'll go pack my sleeping bag then!" She laughed as he tilted his head. Humming. It was his version of laughing.

"I would welcome your company. Though I do believe Ratchet would protest." They both looked over the medic who huffed. He did not dignify the two with an answer. Miko looked back at Optimus, "Maybe I could go on a mission then!"

He sighed and looked away, he did not answer for a moment and a silence settled that made Miko shift from one foot to another. He finally answered.

"Perhaps one day, perhaps." He muttered. She knew this answer very well, it translated to a completely different word, 'no'. Miko huffed and went over to the couch again. She fell down, Rafael sat on the floor beside her, doing some kind of homework.

"Have you done the geography homework yet, I need help with this one question." Raf' looked over to her, she shrugged as she scratched her cheek.

"Nope! I haven't looked at it yet." She admitted. Jack frowned and rolled his eyes, muttering something to himself. Miko looked up and eyed him. She then laid back down and watched the ceiling.

.

.

.

.

Miko's bag fell with a thud beside the spare room door. The guitar was set beside it more gently. Miko turned and frowned, her laptop was gone and instead the homework she hadn't done was there. She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked at her feet. She twisted them at the ball of her feet. No computer until the homework was done… Again… Even though she used her computer to type up the homework. Miko didn't have the energy to argue it. She hasn't had a lot of energy lately. She looked at the pile of letters, drafts of one that one day she'd send to her parents. She was supposed to tell them how she was handling America, yet she could never form the right words. How was she able to tell them that after all her begging and whining to come to America, that she was slowly starting to regret it. She sat at her desk, her legs kicking in the air. Her chair was tall.

Her room was the spare room they had. Nothing to fancy, it had one large window on the wall opposite of the door. The side of her bed was pressed against that window. Just down the wall was the radiator. On the opposite wall was the wardrobe, it was the wall actually. Only a quarter of it was used, she didn't have many clothes. On the wall beside the door was her desk and vanity, some old, rickety wooden thing. She was pretty sure it was antique. The wall that the head of the bed rested against was covered in her posters. A shelf for her record player and records and CDs, and her comics.

She found it so hard to concentrate in school, it was so quiet, the classrooms were so bland and it drove her mad. She looked at the metronome on her desk, ticking away as she watched it. Finding herself in a trance, she sighed to herself. The ticking always distracted her. She had no idea why, she was very easily distracted. She was supposed that may be why she isn't doing well in school. She did well in art and sports. Not so much other stuff that needed to be sat down and studied.

The incident at the base played over in her mind again. The way the other Autobots watched her. She frowned. Remembering the way they treated Jack and Rafael, and then how they treated her. She was treated like a sappy dog.

Miko looked at herself in the mirror, she undid her hairband and ran her fingers along her hair. Shaking her head, it all fluffed up. She drummed her fingers against the wooden desk, the offer Optimus gave her played in her head again. Maybe it would be a good idea! Yeah! She could spend the Easter break with the Autobots! She could take some of the classic horror movies and her record player with her! She smiled as she took out her phone and texted Bulkhead, she set it down as she glanced back at the homework. It was an intimidating sight, she stood. She could hear the radio down stairs, some preacher blabbering about something religious. Her host parents were religious people, prayed every time before a meal and all that. Miko did say her thanks before eating, but praying a twenty line pray, before your sandwich seemed a bit much. She messed up her hair again and looked back at her phone.

'Lets go!' and then a first bump emoji. She smiled as she started to pack.

This was going to be wicked cool!