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The marks on Merle's wrist had perplexed him for a very long time. He supposed he was lucky they weren't a simple greeting. He had a few friends with a mere “hey” or “hello” written on their wrists, and they were left wondering if each new person they met or passed on the street could be their soulmate.
No, the words on Merle's wrist were much more baffling. They didn't seem like a greeting at all. They certainly weren't the kind of words that a stranger would say to someone they had just met. These words were far too familiar, much too well-acquainted to just be the words of some passerby. So how could they possibly be the first words his soulmate would say to him?
When he left on the Starblaster, when he watched the world he had called home for so long be destroyed, Merle was surprised to see that the words on his wrist didn't fade to grey. That meant that somewhere, somehow, his soulmate was still alive.
During cycle three, he started to wonder if the words remained because that was his... what had Lup called it? His 'recorded state,' that was it. The words had still been an inky black when they left the planar system, so what if they were going to stay like that forever? What if he would be stuck, always wondering about the fate of his soulmate, never truly knowing whether they had lived or died?
Lup and Barry assured him that wasn't the case... probably. Given all the research that had been done on the subject of soulmates on their home plane, Lup and Barry agreed that a few interplanar jaunts almost certainly wasn't enough to mess up the system.
By cycle twenty, Merle realized he had a new worry, one that he had been trying to not to think about: What if he met his soulmate on one of these cycles? He wouldn't be able to stay, no matter how hard he tried. He knew that much from Fungston. The best he could hope for is that the crew would manage to secure the light of creation before the year was up. At least that way, his soulmate could have a chance at survival. Not that he'd ever see them again.
Eventually, Merle gave up on looking for his soulmate. Either he'd meet them, or he wouldn't. That was the way soulmates had always been, after all.
That said, he didn't just stop trying. He didn't limit himself from talking to people, from making new friends, even from talking to the man who was causing all this destruction. At some point, though, he started to think there was a good chance he'd never meet his soulmate. And that suited him just fine. He had enough to worry about as is, with his family going out and getting hurt all the time.
When he lost his memories, the mark on his arm made even less sense. Without the decades of wondering, deducing, and making peace with the words on his arm, he went straight back to worrying. The worry was different this time, not that Merle knew it. Some part of him seemed resigned to never finding his soulmate. He figured it was probably because of his age, even if he couldn't exactly remember a time when he did care about finding them. He must have cared at some point, right?
Perhaps it was because he was so resigned that he ended up marrying Hecuba, despite the fact that neither of their marks matched up. He couldn't say he was surprised when they split up, though he was saddened. It looked like he just wasn't meant for love, soulmates or not.
When he drank the water from the second Voidfish, the thought of his soulmate didn't even enter his mind. He had much bigger things to worry about, namely the huge black pillars descending from the sky, spilling out armies of corrupted, consumed beings.
During the fight with John, during his dark transformation, during Taako's incredible Whirlwind spell, it was all Merle could do to just hold on and try to survive the moment.
Which is why Merle was almost startled when he found himself in near-silence, looking out at a sunset over a beach. The only sound in his ears was the gentle cadence of waves, slowly retreating with the tide.
He looked over, and saw John, casually sitting on the sand. John met his gaze, and spoke quietly.
“Merle… will you sit with me? Just… just for a moment?”
The words hit Merle harder than anything he had ever experienced. He stared at John, not speaking, trying to understand how this could have happened.
Why was it that now, after everything, John had spoken the words that were written on Merle's wrist?
He realized he was taking too long to answer.
“...You got it, buddy.” he said, and sat by John's side.
“We don't have to talk. Let's just... let's just watch this together.”
Merle sat in silence. He was disappointed, confused, devastated, filled with so many questions but aware he couldn't ask any of them.
As the sun sank deeper, and the sky turned dark, Merle realized.
All this time, John had been speaking for the Hunger. He'd been acting as its mouthpiece, channeling the will of millions of souls at once. Even when the Hunger turned against him, it still filled his being so much that its power, its identity, could not be separated from John's.
But now, the Hunger defeated, its ties to John finally broken, he was free to speak of his own will.
Those were the first words Merle's soulmate truly said to him.
And they were the last.
The sun finally slipped below the horizon, and the sky turned to black.
Merle turned back to look at John, to say something, and found that he was gone. He was left alone on the beach, under a starry sky that extended infinitely into the dark.
A few days later, when Merle finally had some time to himself, the first thing he thought of was John.
Merle had never realized John was his soulmate because it had never truly been John, on his own, talking to him. But Merle... Merle had always been himself with John. Which meant that whenever he met John... he must have known.
After all the times John filled his chest with black flame, of course this would hurt the most.