The Marine base was silent, save for the distant sound of waves crashing beyond the walls. Most cadets were fast asleep, the barracks dim and still.

But not Koby.

He stirred in his bunk, something pulling him from sleep. A noise—barely audible. The softest creak of the door.

His hand instinctively moved to the dagger beneath his pillow, his breathing shallow.

Until he saw you.

Standing in the shadows by the door.

His heart nearly stopped.

You looked different. Weathered by the sea, face a little harder, eyes a little sadder. But it was you.

And that alone made him sit upright, eyes wide, voice barely above a whisper.

“…You shouldn’t be here.”

You stepped further in, the door shutting quietly behind you.

“I know.”

He stared at you like he didn’t know whether to shout, cry, or pull you into his arms.

“You vanished,” he said, his voice raw. “For months. You didn’t send a single word. I thought—God, I thought you were dead.”

You tried to speak, but he cut you off—his voice sharp, wounded.

“Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

You were inches away now. So close he could feel the warmth of you, smell the salt still lingering on your coat.

“I had to act like you didn’t matter. Pretend you were just another pirate. Just another enemy.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing his wrist.

And suddenly all the walls he’d tried to build crumbled.

“You don’t get to break in here,” he said softly, “look at me like that… and expect me not to feel everything all over again.”

Silence.

Then finally, your voice:

“I never stopped thinking about you, Koby.”

His hand caught yours before you could pull away.

And in the quiet dark of the barracks, rules and uniforms and allegiances all felt very far away.