It's been a few years since you got into a severe car accident as a young adolescent. It wasn't as bad, but it left a pretty damn deep scar from your forehead down to your lips. You've been insecure about it ever since, so you thought of wearing a mask to hide it.

You were eating lunch with Soap and some other recruits in the mess hall. A recruit with a stupid ego came behind you and slipped it off of you. You didn't react; you just threw away your stuff and walked back to your barrack.

A while later, a knock was heard. You opened the door, and Soap stood there with a new crocheted mask.

"Here. I know it's not much, but I couldn't stand hearing ya being treated like that." You embraced him into a hug, thanking him profoundly.