Day.0, June 12th, Prologue.

On June 11th, my father passed away. Having suffered from cancer for seven years, he spent his final months receiving care at home, passing away just before noon on a Sunday. His life was one of recognition for his long-standing service in the fire department, and he was even awarded a medal for it.

Like many father-son relationships, we hardly spoke. Because we didn't talk much, I believe we communicated our intentions through our actions.

When I started working after graduating from university, my father said to me in one of our rare one-on-one moments, "Akira, being a man is not just about earning money. It's about fulfilling your duties as well."

"Duty" means contributing to your community or region. It was a fitting sentiment from my father, who had dedicated more than 55 years to serving in the fire department. His words have remained in my heart ever since.

During the Great East Japan Earthquake in 2011, in a time when "earning" was unstable, I started the Project Consortium to at least fulfill my "duty". I ended up working in recovery and reconstruction for over 10 years. I also had the opportunity to work in public service at the Reconstruction Agency.

In February 2022, Russia invaded Ukraine. I told myself that this situation of altering the status quo by force was not my place to intervene. Then, one day, a friend was collecting donations for buses to evacuate people from Ukraine and messaged me, asking, "Can't you help somehow?"

This was the catalyst for me to start the War Disaster Relief and Reconstruction Center (WDRAC).

Within my friend's network, I kept doing what I could do steadily. At the end of 2022, I was approached by Simon and Travis from Actions Beyond Words (ABW), based in Medyka, a town on the border between Poland and Ukraine. They said, "Akira, you should see the situation on the ground." I prepared and was set to leave Japan on June 13th.

When my father's death was confirmed by a doctor at noon on June 11th, things started to move quickly. On my way to pick up my wife and daughters, I was torn about what to do with my upcoming visit to Europe.

"What would Dad say at a time like this?"

Placing my hand on my chest, I think back on the time I spent with my father.

I have always lived my life freely, which continually worried my mother.

During such times, my father would always say to my mother, "Let Akira do what he thinks is right."

I didn't choose the option not to go. I'm sure my father would say, "Go and fulfill your duty."

After finishing the wake on Monday, I dropped off my wife and daughters at a hotel near the funeral home and returned to our home in Shimokitazawa. The date had passed, and it was 8 hours until takeoff. I began to prepare for the journey.

The 40-liter backpack is just small enough to carry on the plane.

I prepare only the bare essentials.

My father was preparing for his departure, and so was I.

At 1 a.m., I took a shower and lay down on the living room sofa to avoid oversleeping. As I traced back my oldest memories of my father with my eyes closed, I fell asleep.