Tokyo: Are you even a proper lawyer?

Higashiyama Park is nestled among residential areas in western Tokyo. Although it is not large in area, it is cleverly planned.

Afternoon sunlight filters through layers of maple leaves, casting dappled shadows on the gravel path.

Deep inside the park is a small wooden cabin with a sign that reads "Higashiyama Tea House," selling simple drinks and snacks.

When Masashi Akiyama and Rio Arimura arrived, the owner of the teahouse, a slightly overweight man in his fifties, was dozing in a rattan chair under the eaves.

Hearing footsteps, he opened his eyes and looked at the two uninvited guests with some confusion.

"Excuse me." Masashi Akiyama bowed slightly and handed over his business card. "I'm Masashi Akiyama, a lawyer. This is my assistant, Rio Arimura. I'd like to ask you about something."

The shop owner took the business card, squinted at it, then sized up the two of them before slowly saying:

"A lawyer? I haven't done anything wrong..."

"You've misunderstood." Rio Arimura stepped forward and took a photo out of her bag.

That was Masaji Fukuyama's ID photo, showing a slightly immature face and timid eyes.

"Do you remember this young man? He may have bought coffee here on a Wednesday afternoon about a month ago."

The shop owner stared at the photo for a long time, his brows gradually furrowing.

He took off his reading glasses, wiped them with the corner of his clothes, put them back on, and examined them carefully.

"I think... I vaguely remember him," he murmured, his fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of the photograph. "There weren't many people that afternoon... This kid seemed to be sitting on that bench over there, drinking coffee for a long time..."

"Are you sure?" Rio Arimura's voice was filled with suppressed excitement.

The shop owner hesitated.

He put down the photo and shook his head:

"However... when the police came to question me, I said the same thing. But they kept asking me, 'Do you really remember?' 'You can't be mistaken, can you?'... After being asked so many times, I wasn't sure myself. It's been so long..."

Masashi Akiyama didn't rush to ask further questions.

His gaze lingered on the shop owner for a moment.

She had a slightly plump figure, wore a faded plaid shirt, and had a noticeable ring mark on her ring finger. Her skin was much lighter than the surrounding skin, as if she had just taken off the ring after wearing it for a long time.

"Excuse me," Masashi Akiyama suddenly changed the subject, "do you run this teahouse all by yourself? It must be very tiring."

The shop owner paused, then smiled wryly:

"Yes... I used to live with my wife. But about six months ago... she moved out."

As he said this, his fingers unconsciously touched the ring mark, and a hint of melancholy flashed in his eyes.

"I see." Masashi Akiyama nodded, then changed the subject, "Actually, we came here today to ask for your help to testify in court that the young man in the photo was indeed here at the time of the incident."

"Appear in court?" The shop owner was startled and waved his hands repeatedly, "No, no... I can't remember clearly, what if I say something wrong..."

"You're not mistaken," Masashi Akiyama said. "Your first reaction upon seeing the photo was a genuine memory. Your subsequent uncertainty stemmed from self-doubt arising from repeated questioning."

He paused, leaned forward slightly, and lowered his voice.

"And—don't you think this is a great opportunity?"

"An opportunity?" the shop owner asked, puzzled.

Masashi Akiyama's gaze fell on the ring mark, then slowly rose to meet the shop owner's eyes:

"Imagine this scenario: In court, you stand on the witness stand, facing the judge, prosecutor, and jurors, clearly and firmly stating the truth. You are testifying for a young man who has been wrongly convicted, helping him regain his innocence and freedom. Your testimony will be the key to turning the entire case around."

With each word he spoke, the shop owner's eyes lit up a little more.

"And when the trial ends," Masashi Akiyama continued, his voice carrying a seductive gentleness, "as you walk out of the courtroom, you might see someone in the gallery watching you. That person used to think you were cowardly, weak, and irresponsible. But now, she sees you standing up in front of everyone, unwavering in your pursuit of justice."

The shop owner's breathing quickened. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but no sound came out.

"She will see you in a new light," Masashi Akiyama said, emphasizing each word. "She will see your courage and integrity. Perhaps... she will remember why she chose to marry you back then."

silence.

A long silence.

The only sounds were the rustling of the wind through the treetops, the laughter of children playing in the distance, and the clear, tinkling of wind chimes under the eaves of the teahouse.

The shop owner lowered his head, looking at the light-colored ring mark on his ring finger.

Then, he looked up.

His eyes changed.

"I..." He took a deep breath, "I remember now. That afternoon, around three o'clock, this young man came in and bought a hot Americano. He sat on the third bench over there from 3:10 until almost 5 o'clock. He even came in for a refill once in between."

He looked at Masashi Akiyama, his eyes resolute:

"I'm sure. I'm willing to appear in court to testify."

One week later, Tokyo District Court, Seventh Criminal Court.

The gallery was packed with people—reporters who had come after hearing the news, citizens concerned about the case, and several uniformed police officers with somber expressions.

Maki Suzuki sat in the first row, a notebook on her lap, pen tip hovering over the paper, ready to take notes at any moment.

In the dock, Masaji Fukuyama wore a gray prison uniform, his hands on his knees, his back ramrod straight.

His gaze kept drifting toward the plaintiff's seat—where sat prosecutor Yuichi Fujita and today's key witness: former police inspector Masahiro Mizutani.

Masahiro Mizutani is fifty-eight years old, with graying temples and two deep wrinkles between his brows.

He was wearing a neatly pressed suit and sat upright, but his eyes revealed a kind of anxiety and impatience, like an old wolf trapped in a cage, still thinking that he could pounce out and tear his prey apart at any time.

The presiding judge struck the gavel.

"We will now begin cross-examination of witness Masahiro Mizutani. Defense attorney, please ask your questions."

Masashi Akiyama stood up. He didn't speak immediately, but slowly walked to the witness stand, stopped, and calmly looked at Masahiro Mizutani.

"Witness Mizutani," Masashi Akiyama began, his voice steady and clear, "did you use violence against Masaji Fukuyama during his interrogation?"

"No," Masahiro Mizutani replied immediately, his tone resolute.

"Did you kick him?"

"no."

Did you threaten him, saying, "If he doesn't plead guilty, he'll regret it?"

"No." Masahiro Mizutani's lips twitched, a sign of his barely suppressed anger. "All my interrogations were legal and compliant."

"Legal and compliant..." Masashi Akiyama repeated these four words.

He turned and walked to the defense table, took a document from Rio Arimura, and then walked back to the witness stand.

"This is Masaji Fukuyama's medical record from the detention center's infirmary." He held up the document and gestured to the court.

"The report clearly states: minor fracture of the left rib, multiple soft tissue contusions on the back and arm. The treatment time was the morning of the day after you interrogated him."

Masahiro Mizutani's expression changed slightly, but he quickly regained his composure:

"That was probably caused by a conflict he had with someone in the detention center; it has nothing to do with me."

"Is that so?" Masashi Akiyama nodded, put away the documents, and changed the subject. "Witness Mizutani, before interrogating Masaji Fukuyama, did you carefully review all the physical evidence and testimonies?"

"Of course," Masahiro Mizutani puffed out his chest. "It's my job."

"Well then," Masashi Akiyama pulled a page from another document, "this is the security camera footage from the convenience store warehouse. It shows that the warehouse door was never opened between 3 PM and 5 PM on the day of the incident. And the forensic examination determined the time of death to be around 4 PM."

He raised his eyes and looked directly at Masahiro Mizutani:

"If the warehouse door was never opened, how did the murderer enter and commit the crime? Did you review this surveillance footage before the interrogation?"