Chapter-11

The room was a fortress of solitude, steeped in inky darkness. A sanctuary mirroring the obsidian labyrinth of Aki's mind. He sat huddled in the dim corner, his back against the cold, unforgiving wall, surrounded by towering shelves of books. His fingers traced the spines absent-mindedly, his gaze unseeing, his mind elsewhere.

The heavy door creaked open, spilling a hesitant beam of light into the room. It felt intrusive, like a spotlight on a stage, illuminating Aki's hunched figure. His father stepped in, his eyes adjusting to the gloom.

"Aki," he began, his voice echoing softly in the room. It was a statement, a greeting, and a question wrapped into one.

Aki didn't move, his focus remained tethered to the book under his hand - a worn-out encyclopedia of astronomy. His fingers, thin and pale, clung to it like a lifeline. His autism rendered him indifferent to his father's presence, his connection to the world outside his mind remained a tenuous thread.

"I see you've found a new friend." His father motioned towards the book. A feeble attempt to penetrate the thick wall of Aki's solitude.

Aki glanced up, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "Not new. Familiar. Safe." His words were short, stilted, a testament to the whirlwind of chaotic thoughts that his schizophrenia often stirred within him.

His father sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Aki, you've been holed up in here for days. You need to sleep." He knew his plea fell on deaf ears. Insomnia had long held his son in its grip, reducing nights to a relentless cycle of wakefulness.

Aki's lips twitched into a grimace. "I can't forget, Father. Every event, every moment, it's like a film on a loop in my mind." His hyperthymesia was a curse, compelling him to relive each memory with acute clarity.

His father's heart clenched. "Aki, I understand. But you must also understand that there's life beyond these books, beyond this room."

Aki's gaze hardened. "This is my life."

"No, son." His father's voice held a note of determination. "Your life is out there, waiting for you. You just need to step out and embrace it."

Aki looked at him, confusion clouding his eyes.

"I'm sending you to Africa, Aki. A place far from here, a place where you can learn about life and empathy. A place where you can build connections, feel the pulse of the world, and maybe, just maybe, find a way to quieten your mind."

Aki stared at his father, his mind whirling with a mix of fear and anxiety, he didn't feel excited even thes slightest. As the weight of his father's words sank in, Aki's immediate reaction was a firm shake of his head. "No, Father. I can't. I won't." His voice trembled, his words filled with the fear of the unknown.

His father silently moved closer, kneeling down in front of him. He reached out, gently lifting Aki's chin, forcing their eyes to meet. In his father's gaze, Aki saw a depth of love and hope that stirred something within him.

"Trust me, son," his father whispered, his eyes holding Aki's. "You can do this. You are stronger than you think."

Aki saw the unwavering faith in his father's eyes and felt a surge of determination. He nodded, his acceptance coming more from a desire to honor his father's faith in him than his own will.

Weeks later, Aki found himself in the heart of Africa. The sights, sounds, and smells were overwhelming, a sensory overload that threatened to drown him. But it was the suffering that struck him the most. The lack of basic necessities, the struggle for survival, the stark reality of life in the raw. It was a world far removed from his sheltered existence.

One day, he found himself standing in front of a makeshift hut, watching a young boy roughly his age. The boy's clothes were tattered, his body thin and malnourished, his eyes holding a sadness that seemed too heavy for his tender years. Yet, there was a spark in his eyes, a resilience that spoke volumes about his spirit. Every day, and hour, he saw such things that made him question himself.

Aki felt a lump in his throat as he watched the life there. He realized how privileged he was, how protected his life had been despite his afflictions. His heart ached for the people, for the life they was forced to endure, for the unfairness of it all.

Three years passed. Aki, now a different man from the boy who had first landed in Africa, prepared to return home. The experiences, the lessons, the encounters, had all left their mark, molding him into a person who understood life beyond the confines of his mind.

As the airplane ascended into the sky, Aki looked down at the vast African landscape, a sense of melancholy settling within him. He had found a purpose here, a connection with the world that he had never known before.

Suddenly, the plane jolted violently, shaking Aki from his thoughts. Alarm bells rang out, piercing the air with their high-pitched wail. The overhead compartments flew open, suitcases and bags tumbling out. The lights flickered and went out, plunging the cabin into darkness.

In the midst of the chaos, Aki felt a strange sense of calm. As the plane plummeted, his life flashed before his eyes - the lonely childhood, the dark room filled with books, the years in Africa. He felt a pang of sadness, not for himself, but for his father, who had believed in him, who had pushed him to experience life.

As the airplane plummeted, a memory surfaced in Aki's mind. It was a fragment from his early childhood, a moment of innocence and promise.

He was five. His father had taken him to a park where they sat on a wooden bench under the shade of a large oak tree. Aki, in his oversized sweater and scuffed sneakers, was playing with a toy airplane, his young mind oblivious to the world around him.

His father, watching him, had said, "Aki, promise me something."

Aki had looked up, his large eyes meeting his father's. "Yes, Father?"

"Promise me, Aki, that you will help others. That you will stand up for those who are treated unfairly."

Aki had nodded, his young mind barely comprehending the weight of the promise. "I will, Father."

His father had smiled, ruffling his hair. "And promise me, Aki, that wherever you are, whatever happens, you will remain hopeful. That you will face the unjust without fear."

Aki had looked at his father, his eyes shining with determination. "I promise, Father. I will."

Now, as the plane descended rapidly, Aki clung to that memory, to that promise. At the face of death, It is said you forget the unimportant and remember what really matters. At the end of his life, this is what he remembered- His father and the promise he made.

Then, there was a blinding flash, a deafening roar, and then... nothingness. Aki's journey had come to an abrupt end. His struggles, his growth, his experiences - they all culminated in this final moment. 

***

Aki's dark eyes glimmered with a mischievous glint as he clenched the sand tightly in his hand. Standing on the beach, his gaze fixated on the endless expanse of the sea, he emanated an aura of danger.

"What's our next move, captain?" Law's voice reverberated, blending with faint concern.

Aki, keeping his composure, walked beside Law, their footsteps imprinting on the sandy shore. "I wonder!"

Aki's eyes scanned the vast expanse of the sky, his gaze shifting to the submarine lurking beneath the surface.

"Fetch me a large sheet of paper and a table," Aki instructed, his tone resolute. Sachi and Penguin, ever dutiful, scurried off to fulfill his request. The room fell into a focused silence as Aki positioned himself before the blank canvas, his hand gripping the pencil tightly.

An outline began to emerge, rough and unpredictable, as Aki poured his thoughts onto the page. Time passed in a blur as an hour slipped away, the graphite dancing across the paper until the rough sketch took a more defined shape.

With purpose, Aki turned his attention to the task at hand. Lists of required items were meticulously jotted down, each accompanied by a corresponding drawing. He handed the sheets of paper to Law. "Bring me these items," he instructed, his gaze locked with Law's. "I will do my part."

Law's eyes studied the collection of drawings and saw a range of diverse objects, yet he recognized the potential to forge them from a distance. Nodding in agreement, he set off into the forest with Penguin in tow, leaving Sachi to support Aki.

They looked over at the submarine's engine, "Let's remove the engine," Aki directed Sachi, his voice had a touch of excitement. Together, they rolled up their sleeves, delving into the machinery.

Law swung his sword in room, the sound of wood splitting echoed through the forest. Penguin scurried around, diligently collecting the freshly cut logs, their beady eyes focused on the task at hand. Hours passed, and as the pile of wood grew steadily, Law and Penguin made their way back to the shoreline, where the sun had already ascended in the sky, casting its warm rays upon them. Beads of sweat dotted Law's forehead as he surveyed the gathered timber.

"We have the raw materials, but now we need to transform these logs into the precise shapes," Law muttered, a glimmer of uncertainty in his voice. He used 'Room!' , where he attempted to carve the wood into the desired form. However, his attempts were met with frustration, each cut yielding imperfect results. The morning bustle of the villagers began to fill the air, their footsteps echoing.

One curious villager caught sight of Law's struggle and approached him. His eyes fell upon the scattered sketches strewn across the ground, his gaze alight with recognition. "I'm a carpenter," the villager offered, extending a helping hand. "Let me lend my expertise to your cause." Law's wearied features softened as he accepted the unexpected assistance. Word spread, and soon other villagers joined in, as gratitude for what he had done.

Scent of wood mingled throughout the makeshift shore, the clatter of tools mingling with laughter and snippets of shared stories. Each villager embraced their assigned tasks, their hands shaping and molding the wood with precision and care. It was a united effort, born from the understanding that their very survival depended on the success of their creation.

One after another, their names became intertwined with the crafting process, each person contributing their unique skills to breathe life into the wooden pieces. Henry, the carpenter, meticulously carved and refined the body of the plane. Martha, known for her delicate touch, shaped the wings with a finesse reminiscent of an artist. Samuel, who possessed a knack for intricate mechanisms, assembled the propeller with expert precision.

As they toiled under the watchful eye of the sun and moon, days passed, the wooden plane began to take shape, transforming from a mere pile of timber into a symbol Propeller plane carved up of wood. 

Meanwhile Aki and Sachi worked tirelessly, modifying the engine with parts, fitting them to create a working propeller plane. From the collective effort, within a week a propeller plane was made.