Ahmed cooks a Yemeni dish(part16)

.............................Silence filled the place for a moment... no sound but the whispers of the air and the beats of two hearts trying to calm. (16)

Ahmed realized with one glance that Misaki's exhausted body and trembling soul needed a warmth that words could not provide.

He rose quietly and headed towards the small kitchen.

He took off his jacket, then wrapped a simple Yemeni shawl around his waist, just as he used to do at home in Sana'a,

In those moments when he was suffering from sadness, and his mother would tell him with her warm smile:

"Aseeda expels sadness, Ahmed, just as fire expels cold."

He opened the drawer, took out the yellow corn flour, filled a small pot with water,

And began stirring the mixture over the fire, with the nimble hand of someone accustomed to doing it often.

A little ghee... then honey...

A tender, earthy scent began to spread, warm as a childhood memory.

From the sofa, Misaki watched him silently.

Her eyes followed his every move, with a mixture of wonder and curiosity.

She had never seen anyone cook in this manner... or wear attire that expressed his country with such pride.

In her heart, the tiny point of light that had been born on the rooftop began to expand.

He wasn't just a student who spoke Japanese.

He was another world... a different sky...

A sky she was beginning to feel didn't scare her.

She moved closer to the edge of the sofa,

And allowed her eyes to smile slightly, without him noticing.

And at that moment, Ahmed was pouring the Aseeda into a small wooden bowl,

And raised his eyes towards her with a pure, childlike smile:

Ahmed (in Japanese):

"Have you ever tried Yemeni Aseeda before?"