Minamoto Ren - Looking For You

Minamoto's finger's tapped against his thigh, a nervous habit he had picked up in the facility.

"Hey, stop it. You're going to freak him out."

His finger slowed as he glanced at Akemi. "So? How do I know if he's even the one? What if he's someone I'd want to freak out?"

Akemi just laughed, pushing her glasses up with her index finger.

"Relax, Ren. I know him very well, ok? You can trust him. He was in the facility alongside us, so you don't need to worry." She placed her hand on his, slowing his hand.

Minamoto's fox ears twitched as he sighed. Akemi had dragged him here to meet a friend of hers, Shiro Fuyuki, a potential solution for Minamoto's ongoing search for him.

He looked up as who he assumed was Shiro walked up them. Instantly, his eyes looked him up and down, evaluating every small thing.

White hair. Dog demi. Wearing a white, oversized hoodie paired with teal-ish sweatpants. Hands shoved into pockets. Posture slouched. Expression screaming "I'd rather be home." Probably the introverted type.

Minamoto frowned at Akemi, wondering how she'd managed to pick up someone who looked so reclusive when she was... well, her.

"He's not the one." He said loudly, ignoring the guy in question.

Akemi frowned. "Ok, rude. And how do you know?"

"Because I spoke with him. Even if he changed, I would've been able to recognise him on sight, alright?" Minamoto snapped, then sighed. "Sorry, Akemi. It's just... stressful."

The guy, Shiro, cleared his throat and scowled.

"Alright, Akemi. Why did you call me here? You said you had someone I might've known from my time at the facility. If this is the guy you were talking about, I've definitely never met him." He glared at Minamoto, who barely resisted responding with a snappy retort.

Akemi rolled her eyes, looking between them clearly unimpressed. "Listen, Shiro. I met Ren at the facility too where we became friends, like you and I. Except, during his time Ren met someone. A guy. One who he lost track of, and is trying to find again. We don't have a name. And Ren refuses to describe him so, I'm trying to call in all my male friends from the facility..."

Shiro crossed his arms. "And? Why do I need to help? You just called me to see if I was him, right? Well, since I'm not, can I go?" His tail swished behind him, ears folded back.

"Shiro!" Akemi frowned, her own tail bristling. "Sorry, Ren. I thought he would be more helpful. But we can continue looking!" She smiled at him hopefully.

Minamoto sighed, standing up. "No, it's fine really. I shouldn't have dragged you into my problems in the first place. I'll leave now. Thanks, man for bothering to come all this way though." He nodded the last part at Shiro, who startled and had the decency to look slightly guilty.

"W-wait! Ren!" Akemi stood up. "This doesn't mean I'm going to stop helping you!" She called after him, but Minamoto merely waved, not bothering to look back.

He felt slightly bad, walking out on her when she really meant well, but Minamoto knew he couldn't rely on her too much, or he'd feel even worse.

No, his problem was something only he could solve.

Minamoto slipped into a small café, and went up to the counter placing his order. He ignored the way the cashier's eyes followed his ears, the way she wasn't focusing on him. Minamoto was tempted to say "Hey, my eyes are down here." But he held back. No point in causing a scene about something that happened too many times a day.

He moved and sat down at one of the small tables, waiting for his order as he pondered him.

Him. The demi Minamoto had met during his time at the facility. The one who guided him through all those torturous sessions, the prick of an injection against his skin always there.

The facility had been hell. A place all demi's were dragged to once they started showing up. Minamoto had tried to resist. It didn't matter. In their eyes, he was nothing more than an interesting test subject, an experiment.

They had tattooed that barcode into the back of his neck, one that was still there. Some times when he slept, he thought he could physically feel it, feel the ink etched into his skin, an eternal reminder of everything he had been through.

But in that entire hell, there was one ray of light.

Him.

The nameless demi who Minamoto had, or at least somewhat, befriended.

It started when Minamoto had been hiding, a year in the facility. He had heard the scientists were trying a new drug on the demi's, one that had already killed at least 10. Minamoto didn't want that to be him.

And then he walked up.

Minamoto almost attacked, until he saw it was another demi. Then he just tucked himself in more, hugging his knees to his chest and burying his face in his arms. He sat there silently, hoping he would go away.

But he didn't.

Instead, he sat next Minamoto. No words. No touch. Just there. Close enough for Minamoto to feel the heat of his body.

After a few minutes, the first touch came. It was just a hand ghosting over his shoulder. Minamoto had flinched, at first, but relaxed as the hand eventually came down.

A shift closer. The raise of another hand. Another body pressed up against his. Arms wrapped around him. A hug.

Minamoto had let out a shuddering breath, and didn't push him away, instead leaning into their touch until his breathing slowed and he became calmer.

A while later, Akemi had ran up and told them the tests had been stopped. He had broken free from Minamoto, barely glancing back as he walked away. Minamoto could only stare, taking in each feature silently as his heart pounded.

Is this love? Minamoto had wondered as he walked back with Akemi. But how? He had barely been with him for more than a few minutes. And yet his heart wouldn't stop pounding. But he was a guy. Did it really matter?

The rest of his days at facility, Minamoto tried to look for him, but never managed to. He didn't tell Akemi.

Finally, all the demi's were released from the facility and Minamoto gave up on ever seeing him ever again. He didn't even get a name, all he had was a mental image that had started to slip.

"Order number 43!" The barista called, jolting Minamoto out of his daydreams.

"Coming." he mumbled to himself, standing up and walking to the counter.

A body bumped into him, making him stumble and swear.

"Hey, watch where you're going dumbass-!" He broke off, eyes focusing on who it was.

Him.

That nameless demi who had helped Minamoto through one of his darkest moments. The one he had been searching for all this time. And here they were, right in front of him.

Minamoto's mouth opened and closed, making him look like an idiot but he didn't care.

"Y-you!" He finally managed to splutter out. "You were the one... at the facility..."

Gasps filled the air, most of the eyes in the café glued to them. No one spoke about the facility. No 'proper' people, at least. It was something to be ashamed of, something that everyone pretended didn't happen.

Minamoto stepped forward, and then immediately his face flushed. His heart was pounding so hard, to the point that he knew without a doubt that this was him.

"Do you... remember me?" A flicker of worry passed through him. What if the answer was no? Minamoto would've made a fool of himself. "I-it was that day- the one of the testing- you came to me and- I-"

Breaking off, he dropped his head and waited to be told 'no', maybe even laughed at.