The aroma of the Biryani permeated the apartment, blending with the scent of Yemeni spices that filled the air with a special warmth, as if carrying something of Ahmed's spirit and his distant homeland. Misaki's family arrived on time, and Ahmed received them with his clear smile and usual calmness. He seemed a little nervous at first, but he quickly composed himself when he saw the welcoming expressions on their faces.
Everyone sat around the small table that he had carefully prepared. The dishes were neatly arranged, the rice gleamed with its golden color, and the roasted chicken sent forth an appetizing scent that made everyone smile before tasting anything. Misaki's father laughed as he praised Ahmed's cooking skill, while her mother looked admiringly at the table details, as if reading a sincere, heartfelt taste in its arrangement.
The conversation flowed lightly and cordially, and laughter scattered through the place like small lights of joy. Ahmed spoke calmly and respectfully, answering Misaki's father's questions and sharing some stories about Sana'a and his memories with his family. The conversation was not formal, but full of sincerity and simplicity, as if the distances between two cultures were slowly dissolving over one dining table.
As for Misaki, she watched him with a warm silence, a faint smile never leaving her face. She saw something in him that she had never seen in anyone before—a blend of kindness, courage, and tenderness. She felt that her life had become brighter with his presence, and that this simple dinner was not just a family gathering... but a small moment that encapsulated the meaning of "home" in her eyes.