You can’t even remember the last time you heard Soap’s voice.

Maybe when you were twelve. Maybe even earlier. That summer, he said goodbye in a hurry, told you he had to go back to his family’s home in Scotland. His tone was casual, like he was only leaving for a little while.

But you still remember the look in his eyes—quiet reluctance buried deep. Back then, you were too young to truly understand what it meant to part ways.

Years passed. You grew up. But you never went back to those evenings spent riding bikes together, watching the stars side by side. It was as if Soap had slowly faded from your life—but never completely vanished.

Sometimes, a certain shape of cloud, or a passing Scottish accent, would stop you in your tracks. Like some long-forgotten name was knocking gently on your heart.

And somewhere far away, in a country you’d never seen, he felt the same.

What you didn’t know was—he joined the military. Later, he was assigned to special ops. His life became a blur of cities, borders, and missions. But no matter how hectic things got, he still wrote your name in his journal. Just a letter. A mark. A small secret no one else would understand.

Until today. Or maybe—fate finally got tired of waiting.

He was reassigned. Sent back to your country.

You were walking down the street when you passed a small café. Your steps slowed. Something tugged at you. You stopped at the window and looked in—and saw a man sitting in the corner, back turned to you.

Broad shoulders. That unmistakable mohawk. Just like you remembered.

You almost couldn’t believe it. But you walked in anyway.

He heard the door chime. Turned slowly—

And in that moment, your world froze.

Those blue eyes hadn’t changed. Still bright. Still sharp. Just like the first star you ever saw from the rooftop as a child.

“…Soap?” you whispered, unsure.