Tokyo: Are you even a proper lawyer?

"I'm so sorry!"

The autumn rains in Tokyo are always accompanied by an oppressive damp chill. The moment the glass door of the convenience store is pushed open, the sound of the pattering rain outside mixes with the angry curses of customers and rushes in.

Store manager Yusuke Nakamura and employee Masaji Fukuyama bowed and scraped as they saw the customer, who was furious because of the defective product, out the door.

The moment the door closed, Yusuke Nakamura's fawning smile vanished.

He grabbed a small silver tin box labeled "Ultra-thin 001" from the counter and smashed it hard on Masaji Fukuyama's head.

"How many times has this happened already! Fukuyama, you idiot!"

The edge of the metal box grazed his forehead, leaving a small bloodstain.

Masaji Fukuyama didn't dodge; he just lowered his head and his shoulders hunched slightly.

"You always mess things up! We're the ones losing money! You can't even do simple sales right, what are you doing? You idiot!"

Yusuke Nakamura's roar echoed through the empty convenience store.

"You're fired! Get out of my sight right now!"

After finishing his sentence, Yusuke Nakamura, still not satisfied, threw the things at him—a pack of chewing gum, a few magazines, and a bottle of mineral water—at Masaji Fukuyama in turn.

The plastic bottle hit his shoulder with a dull thud, and water splashed onto his uniform shirt.

It wasn't until other employees couldn't stand it anymore and stepped in to stop him that Nakamura reluctantly stopped and turned to walk towards the warehouse.

Welcome!

The automatic door opened again, and a new guest walked in. Nakamura Yusuke immediately put on a fawning smile to greet him.

No one paid any attention to Masaji Fukuyama in the corner.

He stood there, blood trickling down his cheek from his forehead, dripping onto the collar of his light blue uniform and spreading into a small, dark stain.

The light filtering through the window from the rain cast interplay of light and shadow on his face.

"Kill him..."

He spoke in a low voice, so softly that it was almost inaudible in the sound of the rain.

"I'm going to kill him..."

The shop assistant next to him glanced at him worriedly, nudged his shoulder, and whispered something.

"Fukuyama-kun, why don't you go outside and calm down first..."

Masashi Fukuyama was half-pushed, half-helped out of the convenience store. The automatic door closed behind him, shutting out the warm light and Yusuke Nakamura's fawning laughter.

The rain fell on him, quickly soaking through his thin uniform. He stood under the eaves, watching the pedestrians hurrying by on the street, and the Tokyo night view blurred by the rain.

He must be killed.

…………

Three days later, Yusuke Nakamura's body was found in the convenience store warehouse.

A kitchen knife was stuck in his chest, and Fukuyama Masaji's fingerprints were detected on the handle.

One week later, at the Metropolitan Police Department detention center.

"Is this your motive for murder?"

After listening to Masahiro Mizutani finish his statement, he sneered and made a heavy mark on the record.

He was a serious-looking middle-aged man with two deep wrinkles between his brows, as if they were marks left by years of frowning.

He should have retired long ago, but I don't know why he is still working on the front line.

"You think you can get away with this? Murderer!"

"I didn't...it wasn't me..." Masaji Fukuyama weakly retorted, his voice hoarse from days of interrogation.

Masahiro Mizutani completely ignored him. He opened another document.

"According to the investigation, you were verbally abused by the store manager, Yusuke Nakamura, every day, to the point where you were about to be fired. So you couldn't take it anymore—"

"No, it wasn't me..."

"Shut up!" Masahiro Mizutani interrupted rudely, slamming the photos of the scene onto the table.

The fingerprints on the bloodstained knife were clearly visible in the close-up shot. "Your fingerprints are on the knife! Still trying to deny it?"

"I didn't do it..."

Before Masaji Fukuyama could finish speaking, Masahiro Mizutani, unable to bear it any longer, stood up and kicked over the chair he was sitting on.

"Bang!"

He fell heavily onto the cold cement floor, scraping his elbows and drawing blood.

"You brat, didn't I tell you to shut up?"

Masahiro Mizutani crouched down, grabbed Masaji Fukuyama's hair, and forced him to look up.

"What right does a piece of social scum like you have to live in this world?"

Mizutani leaned closer, his voice low, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, "Don't worry, no matter how many hours or days it takes, I'll stay with you until I completely get you in there."

Two weeks later, at the Tokyo District Court.

"The verdict is as follows: The defendant is sentenced to ten years in prison, and the number of days detained before the verdict is rendered shall be counted in the sentence."

The gavel fell, its sound echoing long afterward in the solemn courtroom.

"No, it wasn't me! I didn't do it!"

Masaji Fukuyama abruptly stood up from the dock, the handcuffs striking the bars with a piercing sound.

He was held down by two bailiffs, but he still struggled to look at his defense lawyer, Rio Arimura.

"Attorney Arimura! You promised me! You said you would clear my name!"

His gaze met that of Rio Arimura.

The latter hurriedly looked away out of shame, his fingers gripping the lawsuit documents tightly, the edges of the paper wrinkled deeply.

They lost the case.

Rio Arimura sat in the defense seat, her mind blank.

The first case I took on after becoming a lawyer ended in a complete and utter failure.

The air conditioning in the courtroom was on full blast, and cold air was blowing out of the vents, but she felt that her back was already soaked with cold sweat.

Clearly... Clearly, I promised Mr. Fukuyama that I would help him win the case and clear his name.

I've messed everything up...

The few people in the audience began to leave, their footsteps particularly clear in the empty courtroom.

Rio Arimura sat there blankly until a figure blocked her way.

"Let me see... Your name is Arimura, right?"

Yuichi Fujita, the prosecutor in this case, was also her former colleague at the firm.

He was standing right in front of her, a triumphant smile on his face that he made no attempt to hide.

"Women should stay at home taking care of children and doing housework. Being a lawyer isn't a profession that just anyone can pursue."

He paused, his tone almost overflowing with sarcasm, "We were in the same law firm before... It seems that after firing me, the firm has only trained second-rate people."

"you--!"

Rio Arimura stood up angrily, the chair legs scraping loudly on the floor.

Fujita Yuichi immediately took a few steps back, exaggeratedly raised his hands, and made a gesture of surrender.

"Arimura, don't be angry. What you should be doing now is going to check on your client as soon as possible. That poor brat is probably crying his eyes out right now..."

He laughed loudly, turned and left, the sound of his leather shoes on the marble floor like a silent humiliation.

Rio Arimura stood there, trembling all over.

She bit her lower lip tightly until she tasted blood, forcing herself to calm down. — Rio Enarimura

Now is not the time to act impulsively.

The most urgent task is to see Masaji Fukuyama again.

"...Attorney Arimura, maybe we should just forget about it."

In the detention center's meeting room, Masaji Fukuyama sat across the glass, head down, his voice full of exhaustion.

To Rio Arimura's surprise, the person she trusted and believed to be innocent chose to back down first.

"It's always been like this... Maybe it's just bad luck in my life." He smiled bitterly, a smile more painful than a grimace. "Anyway, I'm just that kind of unlucky person... Oh well."

"No!"

Rio Arimura interrupted him, her voice trembling slightly with excitement.

She would never allow her clients to abandon her, nor would she allow innocent people to bear unfounded accusations.

"I remember you told me you wanted to save money for college, wanted to study photography, and wanted to capture the best scenery. Is that right?"

Masaji Fukuyama remained silent. After a long while, he nodded slightly, the movement so small it was almost imperceptible.

Rio Arimura stood up and placed her hands on the glass.

"No matter what, I will not give up. And please—don't give up hope!"

"Well, although a newbie like me... might not be very reliable."

It started raining again in Tokyo when I came out of the detention center.

Rio Arimura didn't use an umbrella, letting the cold raindrops hit her face.

She wandered aimlessly down the street, her mind a jumble of thoughts.

Although she made a boast to Masaji Fukuyama, she had no idea what to do next.

The chain of evidence is complete, the motive is clear, and even the murder weapon has fingerprints.

This case is considered airtight by everyone. The chances of a successful appeal after losing the first instance are extremely slim.

But if you ask her to give up... Rio Arimura absolutely cannot do it.

Even though the firm has made it clear that the case is no longer her concern after the loss, prohibits her from participating again, and even hinted that if she continues to cause trouble, it may affect her performance review for permanent employment.

Rio Arimura just couldn't bring herself to ignore the weak.

What should we do now?

"well……"

In the office's break room, Rio Arimura stared blankly at the mug in front of her, which had long since gone cold, before letting out a long sigh.

The rain pattered outside the window, and the sky was so overcast it seemed like it would never clear up.

"This is so difficult..."

"Ms. Arimura?"

My thoughts were interrupted by a gentle voice.

Rio Arimura looked up and saw Sayuri Irie standing at the door of the tea room.

That senior colleague who joined the firm a few months earlier than her and was always quiet and low-key.

The two usually had almost no interaction. Rio Arimura simply nodded politely and then lowered her head to continue staring at her teacup.

"I've heard about what happened to you."

Sayuri Irie walked in and gently closed the door to the tea room.

Her movements were hesitant, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the doorknob, as if she had made a great decision before speaking.

"What?"

Rio Arimura looked at her with a puzzled expression, not understanding why her senior had suddenly brought this up.

Sayuri Irie pursed her lips. She didn't seem used to initiating conversations.

She took a deep breath, as if to encourage herself, before continuing.

"If you're not afraid of being punished by Takagi-senpai... I think there's someone who might be able to help you."

"Who is it?"

"His name is... Masashi Akiyama..."