Tokyo: Rabbit Police and Her Evil Partner

Chapter 404 Not Guilty Defense
Court hearings usually begin around 9 a.m. to 10 a.m. on weekdays. If it is a full-day hearing, it may last until 5 p.m. or even later, with breaks in between.

Yuan Yuzi had asked Section Chief Kinoshita for leave in advance and was waiting at the courthouse entrance at seven in the morning.

After dropping Hirako off at school, Fushimi Shika also came to watch, partly because Minamoto Tamako insisted, and partly because he had to keep an eye on Attorney Kikuta to prevent any mishaps.

Chief Inspector Fujiwara suppressed the news; the Criminal News Agency did not report it, and other local publications dared not offend the Metropolitan Police Department Chief Inspector. In this era when news media was not yet well-developed, the voices of ordinary people were negligible.

There were no reporters or onlookers in front of the courthouse. When the courthouse opened, there wasn't a single person in the audience.

Yuan Yuzi sat alone in the audience, her thumbs twitching nervously.

The judge yawned as he stepped onto the bench. Detainees led Fujiwara Homare to the defendant's dock and bent down to unlock his shackles. Attorney Kikuta, carrying a briefcase, strode in, sat in the defense attorney's seat, and began organizing his documents.

“The prosecutor might be half an hour late,” the clerk said, glancing at her watch. “He just called to say he was stuck in traffic.”

The old judge frowned and muttered something, probably criticizing the prosecutor for being late.

Yuan Yuzi was anxious and uneasy. She didn't see Yoshikawa Rio's family members. The bailiffs were standing aside, dozing off. The trial didn't seem as serious as she had imagined, nor as high-profile as she had expected.

The group waited until around 9:30, but the prosecutor still hadn't arrived.

As usual, Fushimi Shika had Hirai Sakura push him to school. After that, he would call Kazama Takusai for help, but the latter was drinking with Watanabe Shun during the day, cultivating his mind and healing his soul, so he naturally had no time to pay attention to him.

Left with no other option, he took a taxi to the court and paid the driver to wait and look after his throne wheelchair.

"What's going on now?"

Fushimi Shika sat down next to Minamoto Tamako and reached into her pockets: "Did you bring any food? I haven't had breakfast yet..."

"The prosecutor is late, saying he was stuck in traffic," Minamoto Tamako slapped away his wicked hand and muttered in dissatisfaction, "You can't eat in court!"

Fushimi Shika let out a 'roar' and looked around. He didn't see any family members and found it a bit strange.

Immediately afterwards, Director Fujiwara arrived with his wife. The two sat down in the front row of the gallery. Mrs. Fujiwara had been wiping away tears with a handkerchief. When she saw her son standing in the defendant's dock, her tears flowed even more uncontrollably. Between sobs, she said, "It's all my fault...it's all my fault..."

The presence of his parents made Fujiwara Homare extremely uncomfortable. He lowered his head, turned his face away, and remained silent, his fingers digging hard into the dead skin on his wrist.

An awkward and heavy atmosphere permeated the air, making Minamoto no Tamako restless. She wanted to say something to Director Fujiwara, but felt it was inappropriate for her to approach him and strike up a conversation.

Another half hour passed, until after 10 o'clock, before hurried footsteps could be heard outside the courthouse.

"We've already said no comment! The trial is about to begin, can't you just sit in and listen?!"

"I just want to know how my daughter died... I don't believe what the police are saying... Please, I'm begging you, I'm kneeling down..."

"Get out of my way! If you want to kneel, then kneel, don't grab me!"

A commotion arose outside the gate. Everyone turned around and saw the prosecutor push the door open and enter, followed by a middle-aged couple. They were pulling on the prosecutor and demanding an explanation.

The plaintiff's lawyer kept urging the couple to calm down, saying that the trial was about to begin and that doing so would be detrimental to the case proceedings.

Doi Yuzuki followed at the back. She seemed unaccustomed to the chaotic situation, keeping her head down and occasionally whispering words of comfort to the couple.

Minamoto Tamako thought to herself that the elderly couple must be Yoshikawa Rio's parents.

The bailiffs stepped forward and pulled the Yoshikawa couple apart. The prosecutor finally breathed a sigh of relief, straightened his suit, glared at the Yoshikawa couple, and strode to his seat: "Sorry, I'm late..."

"Let's get started," the judge said impatiently.

Before the trial began, bailiffs asked everyone to turn off their cell phones and declared that court order should be maintained, requiring spectators to comply. After everyone complied, the judge struck the gavel to announce the start of the trial. The prosecutor spoke first, briefly and clearly explaining the contents of the indictment and the claims made in the lawsuit.

According to the case report submitted by Minamoto no Tamako, the prosecutor presented the investigation results, reconstructed the course of the case using certified physical evidence and the murderer's confession, and, as is customary, charged Fujiwara no Homare with intentional homicide.

Given that the perpetrator confessed voluntarily, did not go into hiding, and was a first-time offender, the prosecutor recommended a sentence of 13 to 20 years in prison.

According to Japanese law, the prosecution's case was quite reasonable and fair. It did not show favoritism because Fujiwara Homare was the only son of Director Fujiwara, nor did it try to destroy him because he was the only son of Director Fujiwara. It was simply a matter of handling official business.

But from a purely personal perspective, the Yoshikawa couple could not accept this outcome.

Their daughter, in the prime of her youth, was murdered without cause and now lies buried underground; while the murderer before them can run, jump, breathe, and speak, and only needs to serve a dozen years in prison before being released as if nothing happened. How could they possibly accept this?

Even if he served twenty years in prison, Fujiwara Homare would only be in his forties when he was released. If he behaved well in prison, he might be released early, in his thirties, still in his prime, able to enjoy a wonderful life. Mr. Yoshikawa vehemently disagreed, shouting for the death penalty and demanding that the murderer pay with his life!
Fujiwara Homare lowered his head even further, as if he wanted to let his head rest on his knees.

The judge had to strike the gavel to maintain order in the courtroom and announced that there would be a session later where the victim's family would present their sentencing opinions. If the Yoshikawa couple continued to disrupt the proceedings, he would have the bailiffs remove them.

Upon hearing this, the Yoshikawa couple fell silent.

Yuan Yuzi's heart clenched. She watched Mrs. Yoshikawa sobbing in her husband's arms, unsure how to tell them the truth—if they knew their daughter had committed suicide, they would be even more heartbroken and remorseful.

Fushimi Shika was used to this kind of scene and was quite numb to it, so he didn't feel anything special about it. However, the familiar courtroom environment stirred up some unpleasant memories, which made him feel uneasy.

Next, it was the defendant's and his defense attorney's turn to speak.

Attorney Kikuta took off his glasses, wiped them with a cloth, put them back on, stood up, and presented his corresponding defense arguments against the charges brought by the prosecution.

He pleaded not guilty.

The judge and prosecutor were not surprised; lawyers typically inform the judge and relevant personnel before trial when advocating for an acquittal. In Europe and America, this is to clarify the focus of the case and facilitate the court's arrangement of subsequent trial procedures.

However, unlike the Anglo-American legal system, Japanese criminal proceedings do not have explicit plea bargaining, and the relevant procedures require the defendant or defense lawyer to clearly state their defense position before the trial.

There is only one reason why this unspoken rule is retained:
In Japan, a lawyer's defense of innocence is tantamount to declaring war on prosecutors and law enforcement agencies.

The Yoshikawa couple stood up in surprise, but before they could open their mouths in anger, the judge struck the gavel again, forcefully silencing their questions.

"Are you sure, Attorney Kikuta? At this point, advocating for a not guilty plea is not a wise choice."

The prosecutor casually reminded him that asserting innocence could be troublesome, potentially requiring another appeal, and he didn't want to go through all that trouble; he preferred a definitive verdict.

As any lawyer knows, the risk of arguing for acquittal is extremely high, with a 90% chance of losing the case and potentially facing a heavier sentence for refusing to plead guilty. Unless there is conclusive evidence and absolute certainty, lawyers generally do not argue for acquittal.

But in the prosecutor's view, there was really no point of defense in this case.

It must have been the Fujiwara family that put pressure on Kikuta, forcing him to give up entirely.

Under everyone's gaze, Kikuta Meiji took a deep breath and subconsciously glanced at the audience. Fushimi Shika was sitting there. Their eyes met, and everything was understood without words.

"determine."

After Kikuta Meiji finished speaking, he dared not look at the Yoshikawa couple.

He took out two prepared documents from the table, asked the clerk to pass one to the judge, and projected the other onto a white screen for everyone to see.

Everyone looked up and saw that the screen was projecting fingerprint analysis of a fruit knife and photos of the evidence. The bloody fruit knife was magnified, and every detail was clearly visible.

"Please look, everyone," Kikuta Meiji said, "this is the fingerprint analysis on the fruit knife. "This is the decisive evidence for convicting Mr. Fujiwara."

“I know,” the prosecutor said, turning to the side, resting his arm on the table, and spreading his hands. “Is there a problem with that? Are you going to question whether the fingerprints on it are actually Mr. Fujiwara’s?”

Kikuta Meiji did not refute this. He continued, "As you can see, the fingerprints originated from the hilt of the sword. It was stained with a lot of blood. After the blood dried, it left clear fingerprints, which proves that Mr. Fujiwara held the sword after the hilt was stained with blood."

"So?" the prosecutor asked.

“But that doesn’t prove that Mr. Fujiwara was holding the knife before it was stained with blood.” Kikuta Meiji scratched the tip of his nose.

The courtroom immediately went out of control. Not only was Minamoto Tamako's eyes wide open, but the Yoshikawa couple also ignored the judge's warnings and protested loudly, as if they wanted to grab the nameplate on the table and smash Kikuta's nose.

The prosecutor laughed in exasperation and said, "Are you trying to fool me like a three-year-old? Playing word games in court? How could you even think of that..."

Kikuta Meiji interrupted, "Please look at the next page. This is also a fingerprint identification report, taken from the fingerprints on the surface of the knife handle after the scabs were peeled off."

"Whether it's the surface of the knife handle or the back of the congealed blood scab, there are only the fingerprints of the deceased, Rio Yoshikawa."

"This is enough to prove that Mr. Fujiwara only grasped the murder weapon after the blood had coagulated or even partially coagulated."

Upon hearing this, the entire room fell silent.

(End of this chapter)