A/N: I'm alive! Well... I've got nothing new to say so... Here is Chapter 1.

Chapter One: Yoko

Everybody thinks they know me.

But they don't.

They only look on the outside, but never on the in.

Who am I?

Five years later…

Growing up in San Fransokyo, I was a competently unique little 5-year old hoyden. I had dark, curly-course hair like my mother, but in an ebony color like my father's. My skin was in a tan, caramel-like shade combination I got between my parents. A nose like my father's, and lastly, I had my father's large eyes, but they were normal-shaped like Cass' and mother's, plus the irises are dark green instead. My mother thought that I was going to be almost, though not entirely, like my father. Sure I had the brains of a whiz kid and the skills of communicating properly whenever giving out explanations for my next big project, but still I could never be just like him.

I want to be me.

Which is why having some of my mother's personalities has helped me to do some other activities besides building and creating new subsidiary gizmos.

Fun avocations include playing the wonderful, magnificent instrument that brings joy to all young performers: the piano. Nobody in my family's history background had ever played a musical instrument before, so now I am the first to ever try one out. At first, my father feared that this would lead me into not focusing on any else, but soon enough, my mother calmly explained to him that it'll be one of my hobbies during my times of not freelancing on inventing the latest technology.

There are a few more enjoyable avocations that I enjoy growing up: bike riding, dancing, singing, reading, and researching. I ride on my aunt Gogo's old, supersonic bike that was given to me on my 5th birthday, which was equipped with electro-magnetic suspension wheels. Good thing that uncle Wasabi prepared me with a bike helmet, otherwise my parents and Cass would've died if I had gotten hurt. Dancing and singing were really my mother's aspects. Her soft, sweet voice soothed me whenever I was asleep, in pain, or crying in the hospital bed over the grief of my sickness. She would dance for me every time when I come back home from the infirmary. Reading and researching are considered to be one-in-the-same for me. I learn new information and facts about humans in society, and society in general from the past history, every day. From fiction to nonfiction, England to America, and Civil War to Civil Rights I would discover what life has done through out the ages. And when using this type of knowledge from the past, I can now avoid all the mistake made back then and venture into making sure no errors could interfere with my inventions.

I have created over two inventions over the past five years of my life. There was one time where I had created The No-Touch Toaster where it'll pop toast up without the use for hand but using the mind instead, but of course it ended up in a disaster for I almost set my mother's hair on fire. Before that though at age three, I invented the Music Opener. It was where one would have a box of collective jewels, and, to open the box, they would have to use the right melody from their i-pods. Of course, the burglars arrived at banks (the only banks who actually appreciate my innovation) which then caused great chaos in San Fransokyo leading Baymax, my father, my aunts and uncles to destroy all the Music Openers in the city before it could be sold through out the world.

So since I'm going to avoid the topic, since things get real ugly from there, let's articulate about my lifestyle. For a little girl like me, I was given an arduous life. Unlike girls who would run around in the streets with their peers and not have to worry about the weather conditions so much, I would normally stay indoors to prevent my body from being so sensitive to the harsh, cold air. Every once in a while, I would receive instantaneous pain all over in my physique in a unexplainable way. Even though it would lead to where I would end up in the hospitals every time, it was normal for me.

It was normal to be in this type of condition.

The doctors thought that I wouldn't be able to live for the next two years since I was born. But they there proven dead wrong.

At age five, I still stand to this very day with a proud grin and give a laugh in the face of dying. I guess my father finally understood how dangerous it was for me to be with this unbearable disease that was "killing me softy", since I am here lying in this bed at the same old hospital, awaking from my silent stroke. Miraculously, there was no deform anywhere and the doctors thought that I'll be just fine. However, all my family, including Baymax, thought otherwise. They where all standing around me with sad expressions, wondering if this stroke will affect my chances of living a longer life, or how will my brain have the strength to muster though and not give up. At least…that's what I'm assuming that they're thinking.

"I can't lose you," Dad whispered to me, taking my hand into his. I smiled weakly at him and whispered back, "You won't, daddy. As long as I'm still here, I will keep on fighting until the end."

Five more years later…

During the first three years of my life, people everywhere thought that I wouldn't be able to speak. So I was taught sign language. But then when it came to the more advancement in only talking in sign language, my mother jokingly told me that was when I began to actually communicate to others effectively. And because I was a very bright toddler, my mother suggested that I should be placed in school. Father, however, didn't agree that I should because he himself was teased a lot in school and this would probably not be the safest choice for me anyway.

I think ever since I had that stroke from the last couple of years ago, my father had become what some people call it "overprotective". I never looked at it as a negative way, but more positively because of how I was born and etc.

But anyway, I was home schooled by a couple of female retired teachers who had a lot of experiences with high-tech as well; but if I were really honest with myself, I would have to say that I was really the one who was teaching me. While father would be traveling through out the when helping others in business companies in robotics and in his superhero form, mother would be laboring in her field of being a nurse practitioner. Usually half of the time, this would leave me with either staying over at Cass' or being at home alone with Baymax.

I am really thankful that Baymax was created, because without him, I don't know if I would still be alive to this very day. But sometimes, there can come a time where he would have to be there for father and my aunts and uncles, since he is still part of Big Hero 6. I never questioned about what made them become Big Hero 6 in the first place because my father had already told me the true story of what happen to the uncle that I never knew, about Yokai, and how everything spiraled from there.

My mother told me her bizarre, yet oddly true story about aliens taking over the whole world, except for San Fransokyo (which is unexplained 'til this very day), and how she befriend one to stop them from erasing the human race.

Getting back on topic, I remembered this one time was where I showed off a teacher in front of a whole class while I was visiting to see what school was like for students older than me.

I sat in the back with my uncle Wasabi and observed all the students including the teacher, who calls himself Mr. Glass, as they constantly jot down notes about mathematical equations that were nothing new to me.

"Who in here can figure out what 'x' equals?" Mr. Glass asked, scanning at each student who looked at one another and hid their faces on the desks. I didn't really know if I should be the one to volunteer since I wasn't part of the class, but then everything changes when I timidly raised my hand up in uncertainty. Unfortunately, Mr. Glass saw me and called out, "Ah, Miss Yoko. Would you like to show the class?"

Every eyes turned on me, some wide-eyed some frowned. Feeling like a victim in a pack of wolves who would like to eat me, I stuttered, "Y-Yes."

"Every well than," he said, smirking at me. I could tell that he was not pleased for me to be there, but I didn't say anything as I casually walked up to the chalkboard and quickly began to solve the problem effortlessly. I could feel the stares of the classroom as I continued to write down my work. They weren't stares of jealously, but rather of amazement. After I set the chalk down, I glanced over at my uncle Wasabi, who gave me the thumbs up, then back at Mr. Glass. I had to say, Mr. Glass looked quiet impressed as he said, "Wow. Yoko you are impressive." But then his smile turned into a glacial look instead as he coldly added, "You're a lot smarter than you look."

This earned a "Oooohh" from the class, making uncle Wasabi to become enraged as he stands up to give Mr. Glass a piece of his mind. But I calmly reassured him that it's okay. I got this. So as he sat back down, I gave Mr. Glass a similar smirk and stated, "Mr. Glass, you told one of your students—I believe it was, what, Bill—that if he continued to not attend school, he will become a garbage man."

"Exactly," Mr. Glass nodded, "and if you become like Bill, that's exactly what you'll become."

Putting on a kind smile, I began to write on the broad explaining to everyone, "Well I found out that a teacher makes twenty-four thousand a year; and that a garbage man makes twenty-eight thousand…" Glancing over at Mr. Glass, who was surprised about me showing off, I enunciated especially for him, "…a year."

Uncle Wasabi and the students smiled as they waited for me to continue. I gladly did so and lastly said to Mr. Glass, "Bill here is going to make four thousand more than your silly butt."

That was when I got into trouble with only my father, everyone else in the family cheered me on, as he explained that using my cockiness would only get me into trouble and it's also another reason why I couldn't attend school. I wouldn't let anyone beat me down without a fight. If somebody does something to me, I do something back at them. Just plain common sense, as what my mother would always say.

I have unusual dreams at times whenever I come back from the hospital for so long. Ever since the stroke, I would constantly have them every once a month. Sometimes I wonder if they mean something. Sometimes it would be about happiness, sometimes it would be about madness. There are some times where it will be about what happens to me and Big Hero 6 if San Fransokyo never existed.

Or worse…if I never existed.

I wondered how life would be like without me. I don't like how cameras are always flashing everywhere when I'm with my father. People asking me question that even an idiot couldn't answer because it was all not true. I hate how people now and days would sell their life away to only spread libels about me, Big Hero 6, or just my parents in general. Sometimes it becomes a point to where I would wish that I wasn't born into popularity by my own father. All that anybody could see was that I am just a daughter to whom name shall ever be forgotten: Hiro Hamada.

Being a Hamada is only the cover of my book..

I never figured out who I truly am just yet (Heck, I'm only ten!), but I just don't want to only be known as Yoko Hamada. How about something more like…The Yoko Hamada. Yeah…that would be swell. If only the world wasn't so judgmental by another person's status from a blood relative then I would probably use labor instead. If only society wasn't so blind by all the falseness in newspapers, or magazines then I probably wouldn't tell lies. If only…if only…if only…

I could go on and on about my confused life, but I would rather not waste any more on it at this precious time of age, because I know for a fact that when it comes to going to college soon, I would have to save all the worrying by then…I just hope that I can survive with so many people at that time.

A/N: Oh! NOW I remember. This is my first time ever writing in First Person, so don't flame me if I made a mistake. The story will be switch from Yoko's POV to Third Person.

Next Chapter: The actual story! :D