The courtroom went completely still—an unbroken hush.
"Prosecutor, please answer my question."
Heiji's voice sounded unusually loud in the silence.
Rustle, rustle—!!
But the only response was the steady sound of pages turning.
Reiko Kujo frowned, absorbed in the documents. The testimony transcripts were packed with text, and she hadn't even registered Heiji's words.
Bang! Bang—!!
"Prosecutor, answer the question."
The judge brought the gavel down hard. Like a stone thrown into a calm lake, it sent ripples through everyone's nerves.
"Prosecutor Kujo…"
Her assistant leaned in to prompt her.
Kujo snapped back to awareness, stood quickly, and gave the Chief Judge a small nod.
"Your Honor."
"Prosecutor, please answer my question," Heiji repeated.
"Prosecutor, answer," the judge pressed again.
Kujo nodded once more toward the bench, then turned to Heiji.
"In the witness testimony records… it's true that no one explicitly states they saw it with their own eyes, but—"
"No 'but.'" Heiji cut in cleanly. "If the testimony does not state that anyone witnessed it directly, then the charge of intentional homicide against Shiratori Ninzaburo lacks truly conclusive proof. In other words, the evidence is insufficient."
Heiji looked squarely at the Chief Judge.
"Your Honor, I request a postponement of these proceedings, and that the case be retried once the evidence is conclusive."
"Objection."
Kujo's voice sharpened immediately.
"Mr. Hattori's statements are nothing more than subjective inference. They do not align with the objective facts. Even if no one witnessed the moment Shiratori Ninzaburo fired the shot, that does not mean they saw nothing. Before the killing, multiple witnesses saw him pointing a gun at the victim. That fact is not in dispute."
"Objection sustained," the judge said. "Defense, present a reasonable argument."
Heiji smiled faintly.
"Your Honor, please allow me to tell a story."
"Objection," Kujo fired back. "This court concerns objective facts, not storytelling."
"Very well." Heiji's tone remained calm. "Since the prosecutor also emphasizes objective facts, let me ask this directly: did any witness actually see Shiratori Ninzaburo shoot and kill the victim?"
The courtroom fell silent in an instant. Every gaze converged on Heiji.
Shocking.
"He's saved… Saburo is saved." Mrs. Shiratori's face was wet with tears.
"Yes… yes." Shiratori's father nodded repeatedly, trembling with relief.
They were both intellectuals. Even without legal training, they could tell Heiji had seized the advantage—and it was overwhelming.
Kujo froze, words caught in her throat.
"If no one witnessed it directly, then subjectivity exists," Heiji continued, his voice firm. "And the law demands objective facts. Therefore, I again request that Your Honor postpone this case and retry it when the evidence is conclusive—so the law, and everyone involved, can be given a clear answer."
His words rang through the room with force.
"That's right—the law must be fair."
"If someone can be convicted on insufficient evidence, then the law becomes meaningless."
"I agree. The trial should be postponed."
In the quiet courtroom, the murmurs from the gallery carried clearly.
The Chief Judge struck the gavel hard.
"Prosecutor—do you have any additional evidence?"
"Your Honor…"
The question made Kujo's expression shift sharply. Damn it. Am I going to lose again?
Unwillingness flashed in her eyes.
"Mr. Hattori is just twisting words. If you have evidence proving Shiratori Ninzaburo did not kill anyone, then present it—don't stand here nitpicking."
"Nitpicking?" Heiji sneered. "Then let me ask the prosecutor: what exactly does your evidence prove? At most, it shows he is under suspicion. But for a conviction, the evidence is still insufficient—am I wrong?"
"These are conclusive pieces of evidence," Kujo said coldly. "You're questioning my competence as a prosecutor."
"I apologize," Heiji replied, measured. "That was not my intention. However, if you insist on convicting Shiratori Ninzaburo based on incomplete evidence, then I have to question your professionalism—and your true motive."
Anger surged across Kujo's face. She glared at Heiji as if fire could burn through him.
The Chief Judge struck the gavel several times in quick succession.
"Prosecutor and witness—this is a courtroom, not a place for personal quarrels."
"Understood, Your Honor," Kujo said stiffly.
Heiji only gave a faint smile and said nothing.
"Prosecution—do you have any more evidence?"
"None," Kujo answered, composed but tight.
"Defense—anything further to add?"
"Nothing further, Your Honor," Eri Kisaki stood and said.
"Court is in recess. The bench will confer. Court will reconvene in thirty minutes."
"Recess!"
The judges filed out one by one.
Officer Shiratori was escorted away by two police officers.
As he passed Heiji, he spoke in a low voice.
"You owe me a sincere apology."
Heiji simply turned and walked off.
Shiratori stared blankly at Heiji's back, only snapping out of it when the officers nudged him forward.
Out in the corridor—
"Heiji, you were incredible."
Kazuha threw herself into Heiji's arms, practically vibrating with excitement.
Heiji lowered his head, kissed her lightly, and smiled with confidence.
"Being a lawyer isn't that hard. You just find holes in the other side's argument. Not bad."
Kazuha puffed out her cheeks and rolled her eyes at him.
"How can you say that? Finding loopholes means nothing unless you actually understand the law. Otherwise you'd have zero credibility."
"Kazuha," Eri Kisaki said as she approached, "Mr. Hattori's legal knowledge is even better than yours."
She looked at Heiji, and behind her gold-rimmed glasses, a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes.
"Teacher, just call him Heiji," Kazuha said, looking at Eri expectantly. "When you keep saying 'Mr. Hattori,' it sounds so strange."
"I don't mind," Heiji said, shrugging casually under Eri's gaze.
Eri smiled elegantly.
"Then I'll call you Heiji from now on."
"Hehe." Kazuha smiled sweetly.
"Oh? What a loving little family."
A cool, arrogant voice cut in.
Eri turned, meeting Reiko Kujo's eyes with calm poise, her lips curving slightly.
"Prosecutor Kujo, it seems I've undermined you again."
Tit for tat.
Even Kazuha, who didn't know the history between them, could feel the powder keg in the air.
Kujo glanced at Heiji evenly.
"So this Mr. Hattori must be Lawyer Kisaki's new boyfriend. A bit young, perhaps—but his ability is indeed not bad."
Heiji's face darkened. Why drag me into your grudge?
Kazuha frowned.
"Prosecutor Kujo looks pretty young—about thirty, right? Are you married?"
[Thirty?]
Eri Kisaki couldn't help laughing out loud.
Kujo's face went black. I'm thirty-three. Calling me thirty—does she mean I look older than I should?
Heiji patted Kazuha's head.
"Watch your manners when you speak."
Kazuha stuck out her tongue, muttering under her breath.
"She started it—she targeted you."
"Kazuha is my apprentice," Eri said with an easy laugh. "Please don't take offense at what she said."
Kazuha looked at Eri strangely. Isn't Kujo Reiko her rival? Why is she being polite?
"Hah…"
Then Kujo laughed too.
"Miss Kazuha is quite something. Looks like there'll be another great lawyer in the future."
They were opponents, but only in court. Outside the courtroom, they could still be considered friends.