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The small brown hand grasping Souma’s fingers has been part of his life for only a few months, but he’s started to find it difficult to remember what things were like without her and her brother. The children had entered his heart from the moment he saw them, nervously clutching each other’s hands as the matron of their temporary home introduced them.
What he does remember, quite clearly, is the look on Adonis’s face when he suggested they bring a child from his homeland into their family. His husband’s eyes had widened and it was as though his entire face had lit up.
"Are you sure?” he’d asked, reaching out to brush Souma’s bangs out of his eyes and cup his cheek. “I’d thought you would certainly prefer a more… Japanese bloodline.”
Souma leaned into his touch. “They would bear my name, would they not? I believe that would make them plenty Japanese.” He smiled softly. “The children we met appear to love you just as much as I do, so it would be cruel not to give them a place in our home.”
Adonis had kissed Souma’s forehead, then made his way down to his lips. “Thank you.”
Amira was five and Husam was almost three when they finally brought them home to Japan. After spending another month in their home country getting to know them as to not immediately thrust them into an unfamiliar land with unfamiliar people, the time had come for the siblings to start their new life far away from the pain and loss that had followed them to that point.
It’s been four months since that change, and their family has settled into something that feels quite natural. Earlier today Amira had kicked off her sandals, small enough to currently be in Souma’s pocket, in favor of letting her toes run through the cool sand as they walk on the beach. Husam is perched on Adonis’s shoulders, and the medley of sound from his son’s mix of Arabic and some new Japanese as he tells a story and his husband’s laughter above the crashing waves fills Souma’s heart with warmth.
He had been pleasantly surprised that Amira chose to walk with him. He understands that the children would likely have a stronger attachment to Adonis, given the man’s familiarity, but Adonis had told him that they likely associate Souma with safety. A reminder that they’re in a new place, away from abandonment and fear. Souma liked the sound of that. His daughter does seem to enjoy spending time with him. The first full sentence she’d spoken in Japanese was said to him, as she stumbled through her words to ask him to brush her hair. He cherishes the moments in the early hours of the day when he styles her seafoam locks and occasionally is treated to her attempting to do the same for him.
Amira lets go of Souma’s hand. He tries reaching out for her again, his heart assuming the worst but his brain being unsure of what “the worst” actually is, but she’d simply crouched over to look at something in the sand.
“Ma hatha?” he asks her, hoping she’ll understand despite his difficulty with pronunciation. Spending time with his beloved’s family and accompanying him in following in his mother’s footsteps has allowed him to get somewhat of a grasp on the language, but his tongue is truly most suited to his own. “What do you see?”
“Sadaf!” she says happily, holding up a tightly coiled shell. Her smile is incredibly bright. He’s blessed to have been seeing it a lot more lately.
“Sadaf?” Souma repeats. He points at the shell and she nods. “Sadaf. Seashell,” he tells her.
“Seashell,” Amira says uncertainly, looking at him to determine if she said it correctly. “Sadaf seashell.” Souma smiles. “Seashell!”
“Very good. You’re a fast learner.” He isn’t sure if his daughter understood every word he said, but her grin tells him she understood their meaning.
“Baba! Husam! Seashell!” She holds it in the air, struggling to be heard over the ocean sounds. Adonis turns around and Souma’s heart lurches in his chest when Husam goes limp on his shoulders, trying to fall off onto the soft sand to run over to his sister but restrained by his father’s grip on his ankles. The boy giggles when Adonis lets go with one hand and lifts him by just one foot, bringing him down to touch the ground with his hands and then allowing him to tumble down. Souma knows he shouldn’t worry, as he knows very well that little boys truly are indestructible, but he really can’t help it.
Adonis comes over to pat Amira’s head, then crouches down to her level. “A seashell? May I see?” She holds her treasure up for him to inspect. “That’s lovely, Amira.”
Their daughter tilts her head. “Lo…bely?”
“Lovely,” Adonis repeats. He uses Arabic to tell her the meaning of the word, tracing her cheek with his thumb, and judging by her smile and the way she covers her face Souma’s certain his explanation includes how lovely she is.
“Lovely,” Amira says. “I am… lovely. Seashell is lovely.” She turns to point at Souma. “Daddy is lovely!”
Souma can feel his face growing warm from the compliment, and Adonis laughing and agreeing with her doesn’t help at all. “You’re right. He is very lovely. That’s why I married him.” She asks him something else Souma can’t quite understand and his husband’s expression changes almost immediately. He tilts his head, asking what’s made him so nervous all of a sudden, and Adonis quickly assures him it’s nothing… she just wanted to hear a story about them, that’s all. Souma brings a hand up to his mouth and laughs.
“If she wants to know how we met, tell her she can ask me for the story once she learns more Japanese.” Adonis doesn’t seem to want to relay the message, but his daughter is tugging at his pant leg waiting to hear what Souma said.
Husam seems tired of not having all the attention on him, and grabs the seashell from his sister’s hands. “What’s this?”
“Seashell, Husam. I said that already!” She doesn’t seem happy about losing her treasure, trying to grab it back from him before he runs away giggling loudly. “Husam! Khalas!” She stomps her foot in the sand and chases after him, yelling things Souma doesn’t need to be able to translate to understand.
Time seems to slow down when Husam’s foot hits a piece of driftwood and he comes crashing down into the sand. The seashell almost seems to fly from his hands in slow motion
Souma’s mind goes blank. The only thing stopping him from running over to help him is Adonis’s grip on his arm. “Wait,” he tells him. “Let it happen.” That’s the last thing Souma wants to do, as every part of him is screaming to go make sure his son is okay, but if the kindest man he knows tells him it will be alright, he has no choice but to wait and see.
Amira’s expression goes from anger to concern in an instant. Whatever she was going to do when she caught him is completely disregarded when she kisses her brother’s forehead, checking his arms and legs to make sure he’s not hurt anywhere. She presses a finger to his lips when he starts whimpering and pets his hair until he’s smiling again. Adonis moves his hand from Souma’s arm to lace with his and nods that now they should go over to them.
There’s no trace of the boy who was seconds from crying, rather Husam turns to Adonis to happily announce: “Baba! I fell!”
Adonis laughs. “Yes you did.”
“Did you see?”
“Yes. But I knew you would be strong.”
“Strong!” Husam repeats the word happily. “Like Baba!”
Adonis’s smile is truly a beautiful thing. Souma has always thought so, and their years of marriage haven’t changed the way it makes him feel. “I’m sure you’ll grow to be even stronger than me when you’re bigger.” Their son’s eyes grow wide, in awe of the possibility that someone as small as him could possibly reach his father’s brawn. Amira, on the other hand, is busy looking for her seashell now that she knows her brother is okay.
Souma kneels down to help her. There are a couple similar-looking shells around but she seems to be determined to find hers. He feels around for one he thinks she may like if she's unable to find it again, and holds it up once he finds a suitable one. "This one?"
Her eyes sparkle at the beauty of it, but she still shakes her head. "No." Souma can't help but smile. How honest she is. Behind them he can hear the mingled laughter of his husband and son as Husam tries to chase a seagull, but Amira still isn't distracted. "Husam was bad."
"It was wrong of him to take your seashell, yes. But I don't think he himself is bad." Her head tilts to the side, and he realizes he may need to simplify his words. "Husam isn't bad. Taking the seashell is bad." Amira nods, and Souma's relieved to get through to her.
"Husam doesn't know a lot."
"Amira, you're his big sister. You can teach him."
"I don't know a lot too."
Souma laughs. "Maybe, but he still needs you. And us."
"Really?"
"Yes. You love him, right?" She nods. "He loves you too. And he's little. He will learn."
Amira shrugs. "Okay. I want my seashell." Souma can't even worry about if his words got through to her. Her determination is incredibly endearing, and he's truly excited to watch as she grows. "Ah! Ha huwa!" She holds her treasure up triumphantly. "Here! Look!"
"Good job." Souma smiles, standing up and offering his hand to her. "You worked hard."
She grins, taking his hand to help herself up before she tucks the seashell in the front pocket of her overall dress. "I don't want to... to find it again."
"You don't want to lose it. So you don't have to find it again."
"I don't want to lose it."
"Very good." Amira looks up at him as if she wants to say something else, but a concerned expression crosses her face and she looks back down and kicks at the sand. Souma's heart aches a bit. It's going to be a while before they're going to be able to truly communicate, he knows that. He accepted that it would be a part of adopting children rather than an infant. He sometimes thinks about how the children must wish he could understand them rather than them seeking to understand him, however, and how frustrating it must be for them.
Amira tugs at his hand. "Daddy."
"What is it, Amira?"
"Not just Husam. I love you, too." Souma's eyes widen, and he gets back down to her level. "Daddy... has hard words. But I love you." The warmth shining in her brown eyes nearly brings tears to Souma's. He cups her face in his hands and presses his forehead to hers.
"'Uhibbuki ya Amira." She giggles, putting her hands over his.
"Good job, Daddy."