While Ahmed was enthusiastically talking about the Arabic language, sitting among the young children, his eyes lit up with a sparkle of passion, as if his words were telling about a world that was distant yet close to his heart. He was talking about letters that did not exist in Japanese, about sounds that resembled the breeze when it passes through the palm trees of Yemen, and about words that were like poetry when spoken with sincerity.
At that moment, one of Misaki's younger siblings, a child no older than eight, approached and extended his small hand with innocent curiosity towards Ahmed's arm. He carefully touched his bicep, then said in an astonished tone:
The child: "Ahmed-niisan... are you strong? Do you have muscles like the cartoon heroes?"
Ahmed laughed lightly, and raised his eyebrow with feigned astonishment, before replying to him with a joke:
Ahmed: "Hmm, maybe. But not the size of a superhero's muscles!"
Then the rest of the children came, surrounding him from all sides, with astonishment filling their small faces. They were looking at his arms with curiosity, as if they had discovered a hidden secret.
Another child: "Show us your muscles, Ahmed-niisan! Please!"
Ahmed smiled, scratching his head with a slight shyness, then said:
Ahmed: "Alright... but only because you asked so politely!"
In the corner of the room, Misaki was watching the scene in silence, smiling without realizing it, and her eyes were following Ahmed with a curiosity mixed with something else she didn't know the name of yet.