After they finished the delicious Biryani, everyone sat back in comfort and contentment, with laughter still echoing throughout the apartment. The evening was leaning toward stillness, but it was not an empty silence, but a gentle warmth wrapping around everyone like a blanket of affection. Ahmed quietly rose from his place and said, smiling:
"Now it's time for the real Yemeni surprise."
He disappeared for a moment inside the kitchen, and after a few minutes, the scent of authentic Yemeni coffee, heavy with aroma, began to slowly seep out, filling the place with an ancient flavor that carried something of the mountains of Yemen and its memory. Misaki watched the scene with curiosity and a proud smile, as if she saw a piece of Ahmed's homeland pulsating in the heart of Tokyo.
Ahmed returned carrying a small tray on which sat delicately engraved porcelain cups, from which warm steam rose, and next to them was a small plate of biscuits he had prepared himself—a mixture of light crunchiness and a sweet taste blended with the scent of butter and vanilla.
Misaki's mother hesitantly took the cup, then a look of admiration appeared on her face. Her father took a small sip and nodded with contentment, saying:
"It's a completely different coffee... warm, as if it's telling a story."
Ahmed laughed softly and began to explain to them the traditions of coffee drinking in Yemen, and the coffee gatherings that bring people together after sunset, when the sound of conversation blends with the aroma of fresh coffee. The children looked at him in wonder, picking up words they didn't fully understand, but sensing their meaning.
In that moment, between the coffee cups and the sounds of laughter, Misaki felt that something had changed in her heart. Ahmed was no longer just a person she loved... he had become a part of her family, and a part of her world that she could no longer imagine without him.