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It was concerning to find Protoman’s blankets folded but no Protoman. In his haste he forgot his scarf which had been taken off to be washed. Taking it from where it was left to dry; after Protoman requested it not be put in the dryer to not risk fraying. The fabric was soft light and somehow held warmth very well. There wasn’t a question why Protoman liked it so much. It was a wonder where or who he got it from. 

Getting dressed to leave, tucking the scarf into their jacket, they took off to look for their friend. Rain pelted the asphalt of the road and the tin roofs of the neighboring houses. The pattering sound of the rain hitting the roofs would have been distracting if they weren’t desensitized by years of living in this town. 

Places that Protoman liked to loiter ran through their head. Open wide places with few people. Liking his independence and solidarity. 

It was unexpected to find him cooped up in a cafe. He didn’t have his helmet on(also leaving it along with his scarf) but his hair and shades were undeniably him. He didn’t have a drink for obvious reasons. The staff didn’t seem to care, probably busy enough with people coming in for shelter. 

“Proto?” their voice caught him off guard, him not seeing them come in. He adjusted himself in the booth to let them settle next to him. It was easy to see he was upset. Often tried to hide his feelings from those around him but after a long time of being with him; his tells were obvious. Fighting back the want to ask him wants wrong they pulled his scarf from their jacket. He never liked being questioned if he wanted to tell someone something he would.

“You forgot this… You forgot your helmet too but I didn’t grab it,” Protoman glanced at the yellow cloth before hesitantly taking it from his friend. “You want to go on a walk?” the question was said softly. Protoman looked at his scarf tracing over a stitch. He remembers when it had gotten caught and tore, it pained him. He didn’t wear it for a while after he noticed that it had been sewn. Questioning led him to learn his friend practiced sewing to mend it for him. They joked that the stitch added character: individuality. 

Eventually Protoman turned away from the scarf, putting it on then, moving his attention to his booth companion. 

“Yes, I would like that,” Proto waited for them to slide out of the booth to follow. He grabbed something from the booth on the way out. It got a chuckle out of them.

“I thought you didn’t like that umbrella.” they say in a teasing tone as Protoman opened the umbrella it was a transparent plastic with multicolor polka dots that varied in size. When he first saw it he said he hated it but then always took it when he went out while it was raining. 

“It’s not as bad as I first thought,” he admitted letting them slip under the umbrella next to him. He fell silent as the two of them started walking. Neither with a destination in mind. The rain had seemed to have lightened up but still hit down on town. The air is a little chilly.

Thinking about how to figure out was wrong with him without asking him directly. The two of them stop at a street light, Protoman looked at the ‘don’t walk’ sign. At least that’s what it looked like with his shades blocking out his eyes. 

“Who am I?” the robot starts surprising his friend. Usual behavior for Protoman, a hint of insecurity in his tone. He was very human feeling to talk to and it was easy to forget he wasn’t. 

“You’re you Proto. I can’t give you an identity.” Protoman hummed at the answer starting to walk across the street now that the sign has changed. 

“How am I anything but what I’ve been built to be? The others have a reason to be. I.... I’m just a blueprint for them to be based on,” his tone sour, sad. He truly believed it. Lifting the hand that wasn’t holding the umbrella to pull his scarf to cover his face. 

His companion stopped walking; Protoman walked a few steps before realising his friend weren’t next to him anymore. He walked back to make sure they didn’t get too wet. He didn’t want them to get sick. Didn’t humans get sick when caught in the rain? It’s how it happened in shows.

“I wouldn’t say that, Proto. Maybe one time in your life you were just that. A prototype. Now you’re more than that. You’ve grown learned. Though if you’d ask me you never were just a base. Instead I’d say you’re an inspiration. What other robots expire to be.”

Protoman was silent, his scarf still covered the bottom of his face and his shade hiding his eyes as always. Impossible to see how he feels about it. He didn’t entirely know how he felt at the words himself. 

“You know what. You’re like Blues!!” Protoman visibly flinched at the mention of the word Blues. He tried to play it off.

“What do you mean by that, per say?” He asks. 

“Blues is a genre that it’s own thing but it was built on genres from before it and inspired genres after. Like Jazz for example. Plus you’re always mopey and sad so you got the blues. “ They tease nudging Protoman’s side. 

Protoman didn’t respond. To their words nor actions. He felt warm. For a second he thought it was his core overheating ready to go kaput. It didn’t feel physical to him. He looked over at them, their smile. The rain seemed to have stopped during their time talking yet they still stood under the umbrella with them.

“Thank you,” Protoman let the words slip out. He wasn’t good with feelings, how could he tell someone this feeling he doesn’t have a name for. At least not yet. He felt something akin to it before. When he was with Dr.Light but this was more: different. Protoman reached over and grabbed their hand. They didn’t say anything and gave him a squeeze.