Tokyo: Are you even a proper lawyer?

The sunlight outside the courthouse was blindingly bright.

Rio Arimura stood on the tall steps of the courthouse, watching Masaji Fukuyama's slender figure disappear around the street corner.

Just a moment ago—before Masaji Fukuyama turned around, his lips moved silently, and a flash of murderous intent crossed his eyes.

Like a cold needle, it pierced her heart unexpectedly.

"Damn scumbag."

"Kill him..."

"I really want to kill him..."

She "heard" it.

Even across the entire courtroom, even without any sound, she clearly "heard" that sentence.

That familiar tone, filled with violence and despair, that I had read in the interrogation records, was now silently uttered from the mouth of the young man who had just been declared innocent and regained his freedom.

Rio Arimura's body trembled almost imperceptibly.

Did she... send the wrong person?

This idea is like a poison ivy; once it takes root, it begins to spread wildly.

While Masahiro Mizutani's interrogation methods were certainly problematic, his use of violence to extract confessions was certainly shameful, and his chain of evidence certainly had flaws.

But what if, what if Masaji Fukuyama really is the murderer?

What if those words "I want to kill him" were not just angry outbursts, but real, repressed murderous intent?

"What's wrong?"

Masashi Akiyama's voice sounded beside him. He had already packed his briefcase, casually draped his suit jacket over his arm, and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt to his elbows, revealing his well-defined forearms.

He followed Rio Arimura's gaze to the street corner, where it was deserted, with only the afternoon heat radiating from the asphalt.

"Mr. Akiyama..." Rio Arimura turned her head, her voice a little dry, "Just now... Mr. Fukuyama, he..."

"What's wrong with him?"

"He seemed to..." Rio Arimura bit her lower lip, but finally said it, "He said something like 'I want to kill him' to Inspector Mizutani."

Masashi Akiyama did not respond immediately; he adjusted his glasses.

After a long pause, he finally spoke softly:

"yes."

There were only two words. No surprise, no doubt, not even a trace of curiosity.

"Don't you think..." Rio Arimura's voice rose slightly with urgency, "that this might mean he really does..."

"What does it mean?" Akiyama Masashi interrupted her, turning his head and calmly looking at her face.

"Does it mean he had murderous intent? Does it mean he might have actually killed someone? Does it mean we helped a potential killer get away with it?"

Rio Arimura was speechless at this series of questions.

She opened her mouth, but couldn't say a word; she could only stare blankly at Masashi Akiyama.

"Attorney Arimura," Masashi Akiyama's voice remained calm.

"Determining whether someone is guilty is the job of a criminal investigator. Gathering evidence and investigating the truth is the job of a prosecutor. Examining evidence and bringing charges is the job of a judge."

He paused, then spoke slowly and deliberately:

"And our job is simply to win our clients' cases, nothing more."

The sun was blazing, baking the square in front of the referee's office.

The distant rumble of trams passing by, mingling with the city's hustle and bustle, sounded like a never-ending background noise.

Rio Arimura stood there, watching Masashi Akiyama turn and walk away.

It was simply winning the client's case, nothing more.

The words echoed in her mind, creating a subtle yet undeniable crack in something she had always firmly believed in.

She is someone who is extremely obsessed with "black" and "white".

The law is white, but breaking the law and violating discipline is black.

Justice is white, evil is black.

Innocence is white, guilt is black.

In her world, everything is black and white, with clear boundaries; there are no gray areas or ambiguous spaces.

But Masashi Akiyama is different.

He walks the line between right and wrong. He uses public opinion to exert pressure, employs psychological tactics, and will stop at nothing within the bounds of the law.

As long as he can achieve his goal, he doesn't care whether the client is "truly innocent" or whether the truth is "fully revealed." All he cares about is the outcome of "winning the case."

Is a lawyer like this truly "just"?

Arimura Lio doesn't know.

Three days later, Rio Arimura was summoned to the office of her partner, Mikoto Takagi.

Mikoto Takagi is a senior partner at her law firm and also her mentor.

The lawyer, in her early forties, with exquisite makeup and a powerful aura, was sitting behind a large mahogany desk, her hands folded on the surface, her sharp gaze scrutinizing Rio Arimura, who stood in front of the desk with her back ramrod straight.

"Arimura," Takagi Mikoto began, her voice calm yet carrying an undeniable authority, "you did a great job with Masaji Fukuyama's case. A successful overturning of the verdict, resulting in the client's acquittal—a remarkable achievement for a rookie lawyer."

Rio Arimura felt a little relieved. She bowed slightly.

"Thank you, Attorney Takagi. It's what I should do."

"However," Takagi Mikoto changed the subject, tapping her fingertips lightly on the table, "I heard—in this case, you privately contacted Masashi Akiyama, a former lawyer from your firm, asking him for 'assistance'?"

Rio Arimura's heart sank.

"Furthermore," Takagi Mikoto continued, a hint of coldness in her voice, "you also paid him 200,000 yen in 'service fees' in your own name—using your own money, didn't you?"

"I..." Rio Arimura tried to explain, but Mikoto Takagi raised her hand to stop her.

"Arimura, you know the firm's rules. All cases must be handled through official channels, and all fees must be paid through the firm's accounts. Your private contact with external lawyers and payment of fees privately violates the most basic professional ethics."

"But Attorney Takagi!" Rio Arimura couldn't help but speak, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. "Fukuyama-kun is truly innocent! If we follow the normal procedure, the appeal will drag on for months, and he might break down in the detention center! I just want to get it over with as soon as possible..."

"You want to help him as soon as possible," Mikoto Takagi continued. "I understand how you feel. But rules are rules. The legal profession isn't about passion, but about rules, procedures, and discipline."

She paused, took a document from the drawer, and pushed it in front of Rio Arimura:

"This is your termination notice. The firm has decided to terminate your employment contract. Your salary for this month will be settled normally, and you will also receive three months' salary as compensation."

Rio Arimura was stunned.

She stared at the thin document on the table, at the cold, bold words "Termination Notice" on the cover, her mind blank.

After a long while, she finally found her voice, a voice as dry and hoarse as sandpaper.

"Why...why? Just because I secretly hired Attorney Akiyama? But we won! We saved an innocent person! Isn't that a good thing?"

"It's a good thing." Mikoto Takagi nodded, her tone softening. "It's a good thing for Masaji Fukuyama. And perhaps it is for you too—you've proven your ability and courage."

She stood up, walked to the window, turned her back to Rio Arimura, and looked out at the towering buildings of Tokyo:

"But Ayamura, you need to understand—a law firm is not a charity, nor is it an embodiment of justice. We are a business, surviving by providing legal services to our clients. Our primary responsibility is to our clients and to the firm, not to 'justice'."

She turned around, her gaze returning to Rio Arimura's face:

"You're too 'naive.' So naive that you think the law is black and white, so naive that you think lawyers should fight for 'justice.' This kind of naivety is cute during an internship, but dangerous after becoming a full-fledged lawyer."

"Danger?" Rio Arimura asked, puzzled.

"Danger," Mikoto Takagi repeated, "because you will break the rules and cross the line for the sake of your own 'justice.' Today you might secretly seek outside help for an 'innocent client,' but tomorrow you might conceal evidence and forge documents for another 'sympathetic client'—even if you think your motives are good."

She walked back to her desk, placed her hands on the surface, and leaned slightly forward.

"In the legal profession, the worst thing is to be 'self-righteous.' Once you start judging what to do based on 'right and wrong' instead of 'legality,' you're not far from the precipice."

Rio Arimura wanted to argue back, to shout, "I did nothing wrong," and to say, "Isn't it right to help innocent people?"

But looking into Mikoto Takagi's calm, all-knowing eyes, all the words stuck in his throat, and he couldn't utter a single one.

"Pack your things." Takagi Mikoto sat back in her chair, picked up her pen again, and focused her gaze on the documents on the table, no longer looking at her. "I wish you all the best in the future."