Tokyo: Are you even a proper lawyer?

The temperature of late autumn quietly faded away on a certain unexpected night.

By the time people came to their senses, Tokyo was already deep into winter.

A light snow fell last night, and a thin layer of unmelted snow remains on the eaves and car roofs on both sides of the street.

In Masashi Akiyama's private law firm, an old electric heater struggled to operate in the corner, emitting a low "humming" sound, and the hot air it emitted barely dispelled the chill seeping in from the cracks in the window.

Rio Arimura sat at her own desk, the steaming black tea in her mug had gone half-cold, and the succulents on the windowsill were barely clinging to life in the sunlight.

At that moment, she was engrossed in organizing a thick stack of documents.

That was a labor dispute case that was closed last month. The client was a convenience store clerk who was dismissed without cause.

The case was won, and the shop assistant received three months' worth of compensation, but Masashi Akiyama only charged the minimum legal fee of 50,000 yen.

Rio Arimura looked at the pitiful number on the ledger, then glanced at the leaden sky outside the window, and exhaled a puff of white breath that quickly dissipated in the cold air.

Sighing won't make you richer.

Masashi Akiyama's voice came from the other end of the line. He was facing the computer screen, his fingers rapidly typing on the keyboard, without looking up.

A dark gray cashmere cardigan was worn over a white shirt, with the neat shirt collar peeking out from the neckline, and the stray hairs on her forehead were gently ruffled by the dry heat of the room.

"I know..." Rio Arimura muttered, pressing her cold fingers against the warm teacup to draw some warmth.

"But two weeks of this month have passed, and we've only taken four cases—finding a lost dog, divorce counseling, labor disputes, and that one... tracking a cheating husband."

When she said the last sentence, her voice trailed off, and the tips of her ears turned slightly red.

That was her first time participating in a "non-traditional" commission. She followed Masashi Akiyama and waited for three nights in the cold winter nights. The white breath she exhaled was clearly visible under the streetlights. Finally, she took a photo of the husband embracing a young woman as they entered a love hotel.

The client was a housewife in her forties who was shivering despite being wrapped in a thick down jacket. She cried her heart out when she received the photos, but in the end she still paid the agreed-upon fee.

That money was only enough to pay for this month's heating bill.

"That's just how it is in the legal profession." Masashi Akiyama stopped tapping, leaned back in his chair, picked up the hot barley tea on the table, took a sip, and the steam clouded his glasses, blurring his eyes behind them.

"Especially for small firms like ours. We don't get the big cases; we can only pick up the scraps that others don't want."

"However, there are ways to take on small, unconventional cases. The key is to be selective, to pick those cases that may seem small but have the potential to become big and attract attention."

"Something that's attracting attention..." Rio Arimura mused, her gaze falling on the last vestiges of snow clinging to the bare branches outside the window. "Like Fukuyama's case?"

"Hmm." Masashi Akiyama nodded, his gaze also turning to the desolate street scene outside the window, where a few unmelted snowflakes shimmered with tiny light on the edge of the eaves.

"Wrongful conviction, violent interrogation, media attention... all these factors combined transform a case from a simple 'murder case' into a social event. Once it becomes a social event, attention increases, our exposure increases, and the likelihood of taking on larger cases..."

Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by a series of urgent knocks on the door.

"Knock knock knock!"

The force was great and urgent, as if someone was chasing something in the cold wind.

Rio Arimura and Masashi Akiyama exchanged a glance. The latter nodded, and Rio Arimura got up to open the door.

The moment the door opened, a biting wind carrying fine snowflakes rushed into the room.

The person standing outside the door made her pause in surprise.

The person who came was Rieko Uchida.

At this moment, Rieko Uchida was wearing a thick winter uniform, with a beige duffle coat over it and a hand-knitted dark red scarf that stood out against the pale winter background.

She was wrapped up very tightly, with only her reddened cheeks and nose exposed, and tiny, unmelted snowflakes still clinging to her eyelashes.

"Who are you?" Rio Arimura asked in surprise, stepping aside to let her in, a chill taking the opportunity to sneak into the room.

"Is Mr. Akiyama here?" Rieko Uchida interrupted her, her voice a little hurried, her breath quickly dissipating in the cold air. "I have something very important to ask him for help."

In the reception room, the heating caused a thin layer of white mist to condense on the glass windows due to the temperature difference between the inside and outside.

Rieko Uchida sat on the sofa, holding the hot tea handed to her by Rio Arimura in both hands, her fingertips slightly red from the cold and the force of the tea.

She didn't drink it immediately, but stared at the rising steam in the cup, remaining silent for a long time before slowly speaking.

"It's my friend... Sakura Yuna. Something happened to her."

Masashi Akiyama sat opposite him, his hands folded on his knees, a section of his white shirt peeking out from the cuffs of his cashmere cardigan.

"What happened?"

"She..." Rieko Uchida bit her lower lip, which was already cracked from the cold. "She's been accused... of stealing from the convenience store where she works. The manager says she stole a box of chocolates worth 5,000 yen and is going to call the police. Yuna says she didn't steal it, but the manager doesn't believe her and says he'll tell the school and her parents..."

"Yuna's parents are very strict... If they found out she was mistaken for a thief, they would definitely beat her to death. And if she has a criminal record, her future is over... She won't be able to go to university, she won't be able to find a job, her life will be ruined..."

"So," Masashi Akiyama's voice remained calm, sounding particularly steady in the warm room, like a steadily burning flame in a fireplace, "you want me to defend her?"

"Yes!" Rieko Uchida looked up, her eyes welling up with tears. "Mr. Akiyama, you can definitely help her, right? Just like you helped me..."

"Uchida-san," Masashi Akiyama interrupted her, leaning forward slightly, his cashmere cardigan creased with the movement, "theft cases, especially small thefts like this, usually don't go to court. The store manager saying he'd call the police is mostly just to scare her, trying to get her to admit her mistake and pay compensation. If your friend really didn't steal and insists on denying it, and the store manager can't produce solid evidence, it will most likely end up being dropped."

"But..." Rieko Uchida's eyes reddened, tears welling up. "The store manager has already told the school about this. The homeroom teacher spoke with Yuna, and although she didn't say it explicitly, she implied that 'admitting her mistake and compensating for the losses would allow the school to handle the matter leniently.' Yuna is under a lot of pressure now and hasn't come to school for two days... I've tried calling her but she doesn't answer, and no one answers her door when I knock... I'm worried she might do something rash..."

As she spoke, she took out a brown paper envelope from her bag, and then took out a stack of banknotes, all in ten thousand yen denominations, about twenty in total.

Rieko Uchida pushed the banknotes in front of Masashi Akiyama with both hands.

The edges of the banknotes were wrinkled, as if they had been repeatedly clenched, and even in the warm indoor air, they seemed to carry the chill of winter from outside.

"This is my saved allowance and part-time job earnings. Two hundred thousand yen. Please, help Yuna... at least, at least meet with her and hear what she has to say..."