Tokyo: Are you even a proper lawyer?

"Let me go! What are you doing! Stop it!"

Junko Imai's scream was drowned out by a cacophony of shouts and the sound of things being overturned.

A thick hand grabbed her neatly styled hair, forcing her to lift her face.

With her other hand, she roughly tore at the front of the nurse's uniform, the sturdy cotton fabric making a ripping sound as it was overwhelmed.

They laughed as they frantically tore at Junko Imai's nurse uniform, and the bipolar patient even climbed on top of her and bit her shoulder hard.

"No--!!"

Junko Imai struggled in vain, desperately pushing and kicking them with her hands.

But her actions were less a form of resistance and more like adding fuel to the fire.

Sure enough, a loud slap landed hard on her face, so forceful that it made her head snap to one side.

A few stray strands of hair clung to her instantly swollen cheeks.

After beating Junko Imai until she couldn't move, the patients laughed and continued to tear off the remaining fabric.

More hands reached out.

Someone ripped off the other side of her shirt, and someone else pulled at her skirt.

The sound of tearing fabric repeatedly pierced Miyuki Nagai's eardrums.

She saw Imai-senpai's fair shoulders, collarbone, and other private skin that shouldn't have been exposed to the air, forced to be exposed to everyone.

"Get out of here! You beasts! You animals..."

Junko Imai's cries and curses came in fits and starts. She twisted and turned in despair, trying to curl up and protect herself.

But the disparity in strength between men and women was too great. Her wrist was gripped tightly, and her fingernails scratched across a patient's arm during the struggle, leaving bloodstains. This only provoked a more ferocious reaction from the other party.

"Slap! Slap!"

Several more slaps followed.

Blood trickled from the corner of Junko Imai's mouth, and her cheeks quickly became red and swollen.

Her ears were ringing, and the world seemed to be spinning and fading.

She stopped screaming and, like a puppet without its strings, let those hands tear off her last clothes.

Then, the patients ran around the room with the small piece of cloth in their hands, tearing it to shreds and throwing it into the air while shouting.

"It's snowing! It's snowing! Hahahahahahaha!!!"

At that moment, Miyuki Nagai felt fear.

Junko Imai stared blankly at the door, while Miyuki Nagai, who would have instinctively helped her, hesitated.

Miyuki Nagai wanted to move, to scream, to rush in, to tear those hands apart, to plunge the tranquilizer in her hand into the bodies of those beasts…

But her feet felt like they were nailed to the ground, filled with lead, and rooted to the ground.

An overwhelming fear bound her firmly to the spot.

Just then—

"Get out of the way!!"

Miyuki Nagai was violently shoved aside and staggered, managing to grab the door frame to avoid falling.

It was the male doctor on duty, surnamed Kobayashi, a middle-aged man who usually seemed somewhat serious. Without the slightest hesitation, he bypassed Nagai Miyuki and rushed straight into the chaotic break room.

"Junko! Look at me! It's alright, I'm here!" Dr. Kobayashi said in a low, urgent voice. He wrapped the naked Junko Imai up and then hurriedly rescued her from the rest room.

When Junko Imai was helped out of the lounge, Miyuki Nagai was standing at the door.

She watched as Dr. Kobayashi helped Senior Imai, who was wrapped in a white coat, approach. She noticed Senior Imai's disheveled hair, his swollen and cracked mouth, and the glaring bruises on his exposed calves...

Her lips trembled violently as she stammered, trying to say something.

Apology? Explanation? Concern? Countless words stuck in my throat, yet I couldn't squeeze out a single complete syllable.

Large, uncontrollable tears rolled down her cheeks, blurring Miyuki Nagai's vision.

Junko Imai simply walked past the doorway without any expression.

She didn't even glance at Miyuki Nagai.

"Waaah..."

Miyuki Nagai slumped down the door frame and sat on the floor, the syringe in her hand falling to the ground with a "clatter".

The lingering noise in the lounge, along with the footsteps and shouts of more medical staff in the distance, were all muffled and indistinct, as if seen through a thick layer of frosted glass.

She hugged her arms, buried her face in her knees, and let out a suppressed, broken sob.

"I'm sorry..." she said, "I'm so sorry...senpai..."

Junko Imai took sick leave.

She lay on her dormitory bed all day without making a sound. If Miyuki Nagai hadn't noticed that Junko Imai's chest was still rising and falling, she would have even suspected that the person sharing the room with her at that moment was a corpse.

After the incident, Miyuki Nagai mustered all her courage and stammered an apology to Junko Imai.

To her surprise, Junko Imai forgave her very easily.

"It's okay." Junko Imai reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to give a gentle smile. "It's okay, I know, Miyuki, you didn't do it on purpose, and those patients didn't do it on purpose either."

Junko Imai twitched the corners of her mouth, finally managing a bitter smile. "They're patients..." she said.

Junko Imai stared blankly into the distance as she spoke to Miyuki Nagai, word by word.

"It's okay...it's okay...they're patients...they're patients...it's okay..."

A week later, Junko Imai walked out of the dormitory. She was wearing her crisp, starched nurse's uniform again, her hair neatly tied up. Apart from looking slightly pale and thin, she seemed no different from usual.

She greeted her colleagues, smiled, and went about her work as usual.

Even when she encountered those patients who had assaulted her in the corridor, she could stop and ask them in her usual gentle and patient tone whether they had taken their medication on time and if they felt unwell anywhere.

Just when Miyuki Nagai thought everything was going in a good direction.

Junko Imai committed suicide!

That morning, Miyuki Nagai sensed something unusual while still half asleep.

She groggily opened her eyes and instinctively looked at the bed opposite her, but the next second, she quickly discovered that Junko Imai was lying quietly beside her.

The other person's body was already stiff and even bluish. Junko Imai's left hand hung on the ground, and the blood from her wrist slit had dried.

Miyuki Nagai stared blankly at the other person's seemingly sleeping face, then couldn't help but let out a scream.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!"

Tokyo, Nerima Ward, Masashi Akita's private office.

A sharp, urgent telephone ring shattered the silence.

On the first floor, Rio Arimura, who had arrived early to clean and tidy up, answered the phone.

A few minutes later, she put down the phone and, almost without pausing, quickly walked up the narrow staircase leading to the second floor. She stopped outside Akiyama Masashi's bedroom door, took a deep breath, raised her hand, and knocked hard on the door.

"Attorney Akiyama! Attorney Akiyama!"

A slightly drowsy response came from inside the room.

Soon, the door was opened, and Masashi Akiyama, dressed in pajamas, asked with a hazy expression.

"Arimura? What's wrong?"

"Attorney Akiyama," Rio Arimura said gravely, "something terrible has happened!"