Tokyo: Are you even a proper lawyer?

"Enough!!"

Kenichi Nakajima felt as if he had been struck by an invisible electric current; his whole body trembled violently, and he abruptly turned his head to look in that direction.

"K-Kang Ping...?"

Although Kenichi Nakajima's voice was very soft, in the quiet courtroom where you could hear a pin drop, those in the front row could easily hear his name.

Yes, Representative Kohei Nakajima.

He actually came in person, and in such a discreet way.

The judge clearly guessed who the visitor was, and his expression instantly became somewhat subtle, with a fine layer of sweat even appearing on his forehead.

But he suppressed the turmoil in his heart and banged the gavel hard.

"Silence! The public gallery must remain quiet! Anyone found disrupting court order will be removed by bailiffs!"

The man wearing the mask seemed to realize he had lost his composure; he didn't make another sound, but simply sat up straight again.

The courtroom fell silent again, but the atmosphere was completely different from before.

Masashi Akiyama seemed completely oblivious to all of this; he didn't even glance at that corner again.

He simply refocused his attention on Kenichi Nakajima, who looked ashen-faced and absent-minded.

"The story I just told may just be a story, but some feelings in human nature are often universal."

"Mr. Nakajima, I'm assuming—and this is just an assumption—that the older brother in that story really is you."

Akiyama Masayuki paused for a moment, then stepped out of his seat and looked directly at Nakajima Kenichi, whose gaze was darting away.

"If you were the older brother, would you resent the younger brother who always steals the spotlight and leaves you in the shadows?"

Kenichi Nakajima's throat bobbed, but he remained silent and did not answer.

But sometimes, silence itself is a good answer.

"Would you resent him for so easily taking away all your parents' love and attention, making you, the eldest son, feel like an unwanted presence?"

"You can't help but wonder, if he hadn't been born, if you were the only child in the family, would things have been completely different? Would you have received praise and attention instead of always being compared to him and being labeled as a defective product?"

"Enough! Stop talking!"

Kenichi Nakajima suddenly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, and his voice hoarse as he growled.

"Wouldn't you," Masashi Akiyama continued, unmoved, "on some late night when you were being scolded, told what to do, or even verbally abused by your younger brother, feel incredibly humiliated and angry?"

"Don't you feel like you're living like a puppet, without even the freedom to make mistakes or clean up the messes?"

"Could it be... that, in a dark moment, you've considered dragging your arrogant, haughty, and self-important younger brother into this quagmire as well? That he too be stained with indelible filth, that he too taste the bitterness of being looked down upon and controlled?"

"I don't!!!"

Kenichi Nakajima screamed almost uncontrollably, his body shaking violently, nearly throwing him off his chair.

His face was contorted with a mixture of fear, shame, resentment, and the embarrassment of being completely seen through.

He almost subconsciously looked at that corner again, but all he got in response was a black hat brim covering his face.

"Objection!! Your Honor!" The defense attorney could no longer remain seated and abruptly stood up to protest.

"The plaintiff's lawyer's questions are entirely malicious psychological manipulation and personal attacks, and have absolutely no connection to the criminal acts alleged in this case! This is a blatant attempt to interfere with the witness's emotions and distort the facts with irrelevant stories!"

The judge, barely recovering from his shock, glanced at the silent but tense corner, then at Kenichi Nakajima, whose emotions were clearly on the verge of collapse. He cleared his throat and struck the gavel.

"Objection valid. Plaintiff's attorney, please focus your questions on the factual evidence directly relevant to this case, and stop asking such highly hypothetical and leading questions."

"Understood, Your Honor."

Masashi Akiyama bowed slightly and graciously changed the subject.

He reopened the case file in his hands, returning his focus to the case itself.

"Now, let's return to the case itself. Mr. Nakajima, according to the convenience store's internal surveillance footage, a week before Sakura Yuna's death, on the night she was accused of theft, at 8:37 PM, you and she entered your office one after the other, right?"

Kenichi Nakajima took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down, but it didn't seem to help.

"...Yes. I invited her in...to discuss the goods."

"Based on Yuna's description of her friend before her death, and the testimony of another victim later, the first thing you did after entering the office was to lock the door. How do you explain this?"

"I...I didn't lock it! The door got stuck by itself! Or she remembered wrong!"

"Is that so?" Masashi Akiyama picked up a document. "This is the police's inspection report on the door lock afterward. The lock is fully functional, with no record of any jamming. Moreover, according to another victim's clear recollection, she clearly heard the click sound of you locking the door. These two pieces of evidence seem to contradict your claim that 'the door was jammed.'"

"That recording is fake! It's a frame-up!"

"I haven't played any recordings yet, Mr. Nakajima," Masashi Akiyama stated calmly. "I'm merely recounting the police report and another witness's testimony. Why... are you so certain about mentioning recordings?"

Kenichi Nakajima choked, his face turning pale and then red.

"I...I guessed! You must have fabricated evidence like recordings to frame me!" he argued forcefully.

"Whether we forged documents or not, the court will have its own technical analysis to determine, but your reaction is quite interesting." Masashi Akiyama pressed on, "Let's go back to that night. After Yuna entered the office, besides asking about the goods, what else did you do to her?"

"They didn't do anything! They just asked questions!"

"She didn't do anything? Then why was she relatively calm when she entered the office, but a few minutes later she broke down, rushed out disheveled, and ran crying in the cold winter wind?"

Masashi Akiyama's voice suddenly rose, "Would an ordinary part-time worker, simply being asked if he stole chocolate, react so violently? Does this make sense, Mr. Nakajima?"

"She's emotionally fragile! She can't handle being questioned!"

"Psychologically fragile?" Masashi Akiyama sneered, taking a copy out of the evidence bag.

"These are Yuna Sakura's student mental health assessments and report cards over the years. All her close classmates and friends describe her as quiet, introverted yet resilient, diligent in her studies, and of good character. Her mental health assessment results are good, with no record of mental illness or abnormalities. Would a girl described as resilient choose suicide because of a simple, even unsubstantiated, theft confrontation? Does this make sense?"

"How...how would I know what she's thinking! Anyway, I didn't touch her!"