The Journalist

Part 44: Feeling Lose and Not Compete

Ahmed led me to a dining room that was almost the size of a hall. The children were sitting neatly with food on their desks. The adults sit on the back. My eyes were immediately fixed on Ameena who had just sat down while carrying a plate of dessert fruits.

Unknowingly, my feet stepped towards him, as if a magnetic field was taking me fast to move there. I immediately sat down beside him to make him aghast.

"Mina-chan, I'm glad we could meet again here! I thought it would be our last meeting. Look, I'm fluent in Arabic, though the accent and pronunciation might sound weird."

Instead of answering my question, Ameena lowered her gaze while clenching her hands. At the same time, I heard a loud sound of darkness being thrown around me.

I then turned to the left row beside where I was sitting at this time. All who sit down are women! Then I turned to the right side of the row where Ameena was sitting. Women too! It turns out I'm the only guy in this line. Unfortunately my sitting position is currently in the middle of them.

I then turned my head forward, in front of me the men looked silently at me with sharp expressions. It was as if their eyes were bows ready to dart towards me.

Ahmed hurriedly walked up to me from behind, saying politely, "Sorry, Sir, you better sit in the front there!"

"Sorry, excuse me!" kaku. Ah, I really don't know if they differentiate between a man and a woman.

With my knees, I inched slowly forward. Move to where the men sit. However, my position makes me and Ameena now face each other. Given all the things Khalila revealed, it made me unable to hold back a smile.

Shortly after, someone informed us that Mr. Ali had arrived. Some people immediately stood up and went out to welcome the arrival of Khalila's father and the owner of this foundation. Seeing Ameena also rushed out, I could not help but be curious to know the figure of a generous man who was very respected in this village.

Just as I walked out of the door of this place, my eyes were amazed to see the figure of a large tall man in a white robe and a turban covering his head that made his appearance look unpretentious. His face was extremely radiant even though his chin and the area around his jaw were covered in dense fur. It truly represents the level of good looks of men in this country.

"Abiu ...." (Dad)

I could see Khalila running towards the man. The man called Mr. Ali carried her. "Alhamdulillah, you're home. You're okay, right?" asked Mr. Ali as he examined the body of his son with concern, "Ameena, look Khalila is home! God helped!"

Ameena nodded with a face filled with delight. Looking at the three of them who looked harmonious as family figures, my spirit suddenly shrank. For some reason, my body seemed to be grinding. Just by looking at the man, it had already made my confidence collapse. Age-wise, that guy looks a lot more mature than me. It even feels right with Ameena.

Ameena then looked at me who could only stand foolishly in front of the door. Apparently Mr. Ali's eyes also followed his direction.

"The man ...." Mr. Ali is pecking at me.

"He's Blonde Brother! The man who saved me and brought me here" Khalila said.

"God willing!"

Mr. Ali approached me. We shook hands and introduced ourselves.

"Thank you for saving Khalila, looking after her and also trying to deliver her to this place. May the blessing always be upon you," said the man.

"Ah, no ... You're too flattering, sir. This is a common thing that fellow humans do," I bowed my head.

"Have you served dinner for this young man?" ask Mr. Ali to the foundation manager.

"Of course, Sir. We're just waiting for you."

We went back in to enjoy dinner. Mr. Ali took a seat beside me and served me food directly. It is a great honor for me to have such a warm welcome from the people of this place.

"What's your name?" ask sir Ali.

"Ayano Kei, you can call me Ayano or Kei."

"I heard you're a Japanese journalist?"

"Yes. I've been here a year to hunt for news."

"Well, we don't allow you to cover anything here!" A loud voice sounded from a man who was older than the men here.

"Mr Umair, you're overreacting," reprimanded Mr. Ali with the usual intonation, "Brother Kei, please forgive him. He was just too careful of outsiders. Maybe you can guess we are in the territory opposite the government. May you be wise as a journalist" said Mr. Ali.

"Ah, it's okay. I-i understand. Don'worry. I'm not on duty and I'm not carrying out any missions other than escorting Mr. Ali's daughter. Tomorrow morning I will also return to Damascus soon."

"Thank you." I bow my head before them all.

"Oh, yes, we are too busy chatting until we forget to eat the dish." Mr. Ali then invited everyone to enjoy the menu.

Just like the others, I started to taste the menu. Honestly, I did not enjoy the dishes in this place. Even after a year on duty, my tongue still needs to adjust to eating foods with a strong spice mixture. As a Japanese in general, I like the original taste of food without any mixture. That's why we like processed fresh raw food, because we want to feel the authenticity of the food.

"Ameena, eat a lot! Khalila has returned to health, you must restore your appetite!"

Mr. Ali's attentive speech to Ameena, made me pause for a moment. I raised my eyes. At the same time, Ameena's eyes and eyes were rubbing. Suddenly, I remembered Ahmed's words about Mr. Ali who was considering questioning Ameena.

After the dinner, Khalila led me to a room that had been prepared for me.

"Big Brother Blonde, tomorrow you have to promise me to get up early so we can play first before you go home!" khalila.

"Ready! Just so you can help me meet your mother in person. There's something I want to show him, "I reply while thrusting my little finger.

Khalila also knitted her little finger. "of course! We are friends. Friends should help each other!"

"Yes, we are friends!" I said while shaking our little fingers that were interlocked.

I went into the room too. The room was not very spacious and only wore dim lights, but very clean and neat. Just putting a backpack on the floor, the door of the room was suddenly knocked from the outside.

I quickly opened the door, hoping that Ameena would come to see me. Unfortunately, what appeared before me at this moment was Ahmed. The man brought me a glass of a thick green drink.

"This is limonana¹ our country's signature dessert drink. Please try!" Ahmed held out a tray containing the drink.

"thank you. You don't have to bother like this."

"Ah, no! It's from Ameena's sister, she made a special for you and asked me to deliver it directly to you."

My eyes widened instantly. Made Ameena? No need to think long, I immediately took the tray from Ahmed's hand. I put the tray on a small table, then raised the drink glass to taste it.

Eh? I was stunned to see a small folded paper under the glass I just lifted. I immediately opened the small paper and saw the writing of a bald arab. Because I have not been able to read the letter, I use an automatic translation machine on my phone.

^^^I'm sorry if the dinner doesn't fit on his tongue. In return, I hope you like this drink.^^^

My breath suddenly caught. How can Ameena know I'm not enjoying their dishes? Did he keep watching me during the meal? Is my expression too clear?

I immediately slammed my body on the bed and hid my face under the pillow. What is this feeling? There was a feeling of embarrassment and awkwardness but also on the other hand feeling happy.

I raised my head, then took a prone position with both hands supported on my chin. Smiling, my eyes turned to the glass of drink made by him. I took my camera, then took a picture of the drink complete with Ameena writing that I displayed under the glass. I reopen the file of the collection of sky photos I took a year ago right after we split up. I have to show Ameena this collection of photos. I hope Khalila can help me.

I started tasting the drink. The refreshing aroma of mint blends in with a sweet taste, luring me to finish the drink. I stared at the movement of the wall clock. I don't want this night to end. Because, once we meet tomorrow, we must go back apart.

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Footprint 🦶🦶

Limonana: a typical Middle Eastern drink is a combination of lemonade and mint as the main base ingredient.

visual Mr. Ali