Cashback System From The Heart

The gentle Kyoto morning unfolded with the serenity only an old city like this could offer. The trees were still blooming with the lingering softness of late spring, brushing their petals against the wind. The Yamamoto family, along with Phuby's family, were up early. Today marked a milestone in Hana's life—a deeply personal and spiritual step forward.

The destination was the Kyoto Mosque, a modest but welcoming place that nestled quietly within the district. Its simple minaret peeked over the nearby buildings, a symbol of faith embraced even in lands where Islam was a minority. For Hana, it wasn't just about a new belief—it was about unity, commitment, and love.

Hana walked slightly ahead with her mother, Aiko, while Phuby kept pace behind them with Mr. Haruki Yamamoto and his own mother, Mrs. Wulan. Om Luky strolled beside them, his expression calm and supportive.

"This place… it's peaceful," Hana whispered, as they stood before the entrance. The calligraphy over the door, the sound of gentle Arabic recitation within, and the faint scent of oud in the air all seemed to wrap around her like a warm shawl.

Phuby gave her a reassuring smile, one that held both admiration and quiet nerves. After all, it wasn't easy asking someone to walk into your world like this.

The conversion was witnessed by both families, and a few kind-hearted locals and mosque staff who offered their guidance. The imam, a gentle-faced elderly man with a soft-spoken manner, helped Hana through the shahada—the testimony of faith.

"أشهد أن لا إله إلا الله، وأشهد أن محمدًا رسول الله."

The words, though new to Hana's tongue, left her lips without hesitation. Her voice trembled slightly, more from emotion than fear.

Everyone clapped lightly, exchanging warm hugs and smiles. Phuby blinked a few times—either from the mosque lighting or the swelling feeling in his chest.

The imam turned to Hana with a warm smile. "Do you have an Islamic name in mind?"

Phuby, already informed and somewhat giddy, grinned and replied before Hana could answer. "Yes, we thought about 'Zahra'. Zahra Yamamoto."

The imam nodded approvingly. "A beautiful name. Zahra, meaning flower—pure and radiant."

Hana looked at Phuby, her expression slightly amused. "Zahra, huh?"

"It suits you," he whispered.

She narrowed her eyes playfully. "But you're still calling me Hana, right?"

Phuby laughed, "Of course. I'm not used to calling you anything else. Besides, Zahra sounds too elegant for when I'm yelling at you to stop stealing my fries."

Everyone chuckled, even the imam, who understood enough English to catch the joke. Mr. Haruki leaned toward Aiko and muttered in Japanese, "Well, as long as she's still Hana to us."

Mrs. Wulan added, "Yes, the name is for official and spiritual records, but we all know she's still our Hana."

Aiko nodded. "In Japan, Zahra sounds exotic, but it's not a common name. We'll keep calling her Hana—feels more like her."

The group left the mosque, the sun now higher in the sky and casting soft shadows across the cobbled paths of Kyoto. They stopped briefly at a café to celebrate with tea and Japanese wagashi, a tradition that neither Islam nor local culture would mind blending.

While sipping his drink, Phuby leaned closer to Hana and whispered, "Officially Zahra, but forever Hana in my heart."

Hana rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "That's so cheesy, it might melt."

"But you like cheese," Phuby teased.

"I do," she admitted. "Especially on your weird toast combos."

As the families joked and bonded over tea and sweets, the mood remained lighthearted. The conversion had been a serious moment, but it wasn't one drowned in heavy solemnity. It was joyful, welcoming, and laced with love.

Even on the taxi ride back, Phuby's phone buzzed with a message from the system, almost comically interrupting the emotional mood:

[System Notification: Congratulations. Partner 'Zahra Yamamoto' has successfully completed religious conversion. Milestone event recorded. No cashback awarded. This is a life achievement.]

He chuckled softly and showed it to Hana.

"Your system sends congratulation messages?"

"It tries its best," he said with a grin.

"And doesn't give cashback for this?"

"It knows some things are priceless."

She leaned her head against his shoulder, "You're lucky I like you, cheesy man."

He kissed the top of her head, whispering, "Zahra, Hana—whatever your name is, you'll always be mine."

Behind them, Mrs. Wulan and Aiko silently snapped another picture, whispering between themselves.

"Should we upload this to the family group?"

"Not yet," Aiko said. "Let's wait until the wedding. Then we flood it with everything."

And as the sun cast golden light over Kyoto, one name changed, but the bond between them only grew deeper—sealed not by paper or label, but by love and choice.