Chapter Text
You know, it really is amazing just how quickly things can change.
"What's your problem?! You should watch where you're going!"
"I-I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to..."
"Try to be a bit less clumsy next time!"
"I-I didn't... It was just because of this--Ack-!"
All it takes is a single moment for everything to come undone.
"Suspect, you have a letter... A gift from someone you know well."
One moment...
That's all it's ever taken.
Do what must be done.
And mine finally came.
March 15
The Old Bailey
Defendants' Antechamber
9:35 AM
To say that this was set to be the worst day of my life felt like an understatement.
I stood in the courthouse doing my best to take deep breaths and keep myself calm, but that was much easier said than done. Each time I tried to ground myself, something seemed to get in the way. Most of the time, it was my anxiety. I shouldn't have been surprised. Anyone would be anxious if they were put in a situation like mine. Still, I knew that getting worried about it wasn't going to help anyone. It certainly wouldn't do me any favors. If that was the case though, then why couldn't I just make it stop?
"You look like you haven't slept all night."
I let out a small yelp at the sound of a voice from beside me, and I turned to face the one and only Evander Lasseire. He wore a kind smile on his pale face. His black hair was tied into a ponytail at the base of his neck, though a few threads of white pierced through the darkness. A small scar could be seen across his cheek, though that did nothing to stop the bright blue shine of his irises. He had always looked older than he actually was, and the aged look in his eyes was a large part of that.
As for his clothing, Evander wore a white long-sleeved shirt with a dark blue vest lined in gold. A purple ribbon was tied to his collar, and it only accentuated the kindness in his features that much more. His trousers were dark navy much like his vest, and his belts were black. Perhaps the most standout feature all when it came to Evander though was the katana that hung from his belt. It always seemed to speak even louder than he did whenever he entered a room, and that was beyond impressive.
I took in a careful, deep breath to try and calm myself down. It didn't exactly work, but it was the thought that counted. "I-I did my best," I told Evander with a weak smile. The fact of the matter was that he was right; I hadn't slept much the night before. I didn't know how I could have been expected to given the circumstances.
Ah, I suppose I should back up a bit. My name is Hiroshi Bushida, though I often prefer to go by Hiro. I'm a defense lawyer... Or, at the very least, I was. That job of mine has been unfortunately cut short. A few days ago, I was arrested for murder, and I was placed behind bars while awaiting my trial. As much as I hate to admit it, this seems like it's set to be the end of my career as an attorney. It seems like everyone has already decided that I'm the one responsible for the crime, and there's not much I can do to change their mind.
As for Evander, he's meant to be my attorney... But that's not quite how it's going to end up. Of course, he doesn't know that yet, but... It's a complicated situation. I received a letter last night just before I was set to go to bed. It offered some... Unexpected instructions, to say the least, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about them ever since. How could I possibly move on from something like that? I haven't broken the news to Evander yet either... It's not going to be easy to say, though I suppose that's why I'm waiting until the last possible second to do it...
Evander let out a small sigh, either unaware of my internal conflict or choosing to not acknowledge it openly. Both were equally possible. "I would say that you need to take better care of yourself, though I suppose that's a bit of a moot point at the moment," he murmured. "I doubt this is where you expected to end up though. You're a lawyer, but instead of taking on a case..."
"I'm the suspect in one," I sighed, finishing the statement for him. Evander nodded, and I did my best to swallow back my nerves. As was to be expected, it didn't work, but I at least had to put in the effort. "I-I'm going to do everything I can in the trial though! I won't let this be the end!" That was an awfully optimistic way of saying that I was about to completely change Evander's life and the way he approached this case, but it was better than being upfront with the truth... That was what I was telling myself, at the very least. As for if this would be the best course of action or not... We would just have to wait and see.
"You have nothing to worry about though," Evander assured me. He placed one hand on my shoulders, and the butterflies in my stomach redoubled their efforts to make me lose what little food I still had left in my stomach. "I'm going to do everything in my power to see you freed from suspicion. No matter what, I'll ensure that you go home free."
"Thank you, Evander," I smiled to myself. Somehow, when he said that I was going to be alright, I believed it. He had done so much for me already. When I first passed the bar exam and became a lawyer, I couldn't seem to find any place willing to accept me as an apprentice. Evander was different though. He reached out to me before I could fully succumb to my despair, and he had saved me as a result. He had tried to save me here too by defending his mentee before I could be put on trial for a crime I didn't commit.
Unfortunately for him, it wasn't going to be that easy. He didn't know that yet though, and I couldn't bring myself to shatter his dreams quite yet. That was something that could wait another few minutes until after the trial started.
"I've done everything in my power to investigate the case too, and I'm sure there's something the police missed during their search of the area that will allow the truth to come to light," Evander went on. He was still trying to cheer me up, and I found myself smiling despite it all. "I can promise you that everything will be okay."
I nodded at that, though I wasn't entirely convinced he was right. I wanted to believe it, but it wasn't as if I had much of a choice at this point. After all, that optimism was about to come crumbling down, and I was going to be the one to--
"Suspect! Defense!"
Evander winced at the harsh, sudden cry of the bailiff near the door to the courtroom. "I suppose that's our cue. We should go inside," he said. He tightened his grip on my shoulder ever so slightly, and I was halfway convinced I was going to melt into the floor before I had the chance to even set foot into the courtroom. "I promise you that everything will be alright. As long as you have faith in me, I'll have faith in you. That's what a lawyer does best, after all."
I nodded with a weak smile as Evander started into the courtroom. He released his grip on my shoulder along the way, though I instantly yearned to have that bare thread of connection back once again. I let out a small sigh once I was certain he was out of earshot, and I reached into my pocket to pull out the letter I had received. This small piece of paper was set to change everything once I entered the courtroom, and I was dreading it with every fiber of my being:
'Defend yourself in your trial... Or else. Do what must be done.'
It was an oddity for a suspect in any case to receive a letter while they were awaiting trial, but this... It was a special type of awful. I had no idea who the letter had come from, but I could feel the enmity and condescension leaking through the page. Whoever was responsible for sending the letter was trying to make their message very clear, and I knew better than to stand up to that. as much as I appreciated Evander doing what he could to help me after I was arrested, I knew this was something I would need to handle on my own... I could only hope he was ready to figure out what that meant for us both.
March 15
The Old Bailey
The Old Bailey Courtroom
10:00 AM
To say that my body felt like it was on fire when I entered the courtroom was, once again, a grave understatement. I didn't think I had ever been this nervous in my life, and that was certainly saying a lot. I had already partially resigned myself to the idea that I would be spending the rest of my life behind bars, but thinking that and facing it by stepping into a courtroom... Those were two very different things, and as soon as I entered the courtroom, all I could think was that I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't ready to follow the directions the letter had given me, and I especially wasn't ready to hear the verdict that would mark the end of my life as I knew it.
Evander, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind what was happening at all. Instead, he had a small smile on his face. It was a desperate attempt to calm me down, I was sure, but it wasn't working as intended at all. If anything, all it did was make me feel worse about myself. I didn't want to have to disappoint him, but I knew I had no other choice. Evander deserved better than all of this, but instead... Well...
I turned my attention across the courtroom, and my heart sunk into my feet. There was a man standing behind the prosecutor's bench, and he wore a proud smirk on his face. His suit was beyond extravagant, fancier than just about any clothing I had ever laid my eyes on. The fabric was a deep wine color, and a ruffled cravat rested over his chest to add another hint as to just how much influence and wealth he had at his disposal. The man's hair was brown and combed perfectly to frame his features. Everything about him was twisted with cruelty, though it was held together behind a mask of calmness. In many ways, it was impressive, but in even more, it was terrifying.
Even though I had never taken to the courtroom before today, I knew who this man was. Hugo Barnaby was perhaps the most famous prosecutor in all of Britain. He had made a name for himself over the course of the last few years thanks to his perfect streak in the courtroom. He knew how to get suspects a guilty verdict, and as far as he was concerned, I was just the next victim who had been placed on the chopping block. Nothing about the case mattered aside from my guilty verdict.
I had already told myself that this was the end of my life as I knew it, but somehow, seeing Prosecutor Barnaby across the room only made it hit harder. I felt as if I had been punched in the stomach. The folded letter in my pocket was a weight that seemed to want to drag me into the earth and leave me to be buried alive. To say it was miserable was yet another understatement, and I had dealt with understatements more than enough today.
The sharp hit of a gavel against the podium drew my attention away from Prosecutor Barnaby. Instead, I turned my attention up to the judge waiting at the center of the courtroom. Her skin was a warm tan color that complemented her brown eyes perfectly. Her hair was red and tied into a braid that wrapped around the back of her head in the picture of elegance. She wore a red robe that reached the floor behind the podium, and the hem was lined with gold. A pin of a pair of scales could be seen on her chest, and it shone brightly even in the limited lighting of the courtroom. The gavel in her hand was a navy color with gold accents. If Prosecutor Barnaby was the picture of horror in my mind, the judge--who I had heard was named Clara Graves--was the picture of grace. It was certainly a sharp contrast, and I welcomed it.
"In the name of Her Majesty the Queen, I hereby declare this court to be in session for the trial of Hiroshi Bushida," Judge Graves announced, and the chattering in the gallery immediately fell silent. I was suddenly left all too aware of how many people were in the room and watching me at any given moment. They all thought I was guilty even before the trial could start, and that knowledge made me feel sick to my stomach. Perhaps I hadn't given up on my life as much as I had thought. "Are the defense and prosecution prepared?"
Prosecutor Barnaby let out a small huff of an exhale as he brushed a few strands of his brown hair out of his face. "I am always prepared, Your Lord," he announced.
Judge Graves turned her attention over to the defense next, and she watched me and Evander for a long moment. This was the moment of truth. I was going to have to speak up now if I was going to follow the instructions outlined in the letter, and I knew I had no other choice. "What about the defense?" Judge Graves questioned. "Are you--"
"Yes!"
Before I knew it, I had answered her question, though I had cut her off in the process. Judge Graves was, to put it simply, taken aback by the sudden intrusion. She glanced down at me with a frown on her face. "My apologies, but... I was under the impression that Evander Lasseire would be leading the defense of this case," she said warily.
"Y-Yes, that is--" Evander started from beside me. He was just as surprised as Judge Graves to hear me interrupt the trial, and he stared at me as if I had lost my mind. In many ways, that was a correct assumption, but I didn't have the time to tell him that, not when he was on the verge of blowing my chance.
"T-Things changed," I explained simply even though I knew it wasn't much of an explanation at all. I cleared my throat, raising one hand in front of my mouth to try and seem at least a bit polite after I had so crudely interrupted the judge a few moments prior. "M-My name is Hiroshi Bushida, and I will be defending myself in my trial."
The gallery burst into chatter once again at that, and I resisted the urge to wince at the noise. Judge Graves was beyond shocked at this, and she reached for her gavel to try and silence the onlookers. However, her surprise didn't even come close to Evander's shock, and he reached for my sleeve to pull on it and get my attention. "H-Hiro, you can't be serious!" he hissed. "You've never defended anyone in a court of law before, and you can't just--"
"I will," I assured him before raising my voice to address the rest of the courtroom. "I will be defending myself in my own trial. I will be allowing my previous attorney to act as my assistant in the courtroom." That was the most the letter allowed, so it was all I was going to do. The person who had sent the note hadn't specified if that would be alright or not, but it was the best idea I could come up with that didn't completely reject Evander, so I was going to press on with it for now.
Judge Graves took in a thin breath, and I could feel her uncertainty from across the courtroom. "This is highly unusual," she murmured. "It would hardly be regular for the suspect to defend himself from the charges placed against him... I'm afraid I cannot--"
"It's fine with me," Prosecutor Barnaby declared from his place behind the prosecution's bench. He wore a smirk on his face, and if anything, he seemed almost impressed with my confidence. "If he wishes to try and play defender, then who are we to stop him? He is technically accredited as an attorney, so there should be few issues. If he wishes to take his fate into his own hands, then that is his decision... Though it will make this trial pathetically short."
"I can't agree to this!" Evander declared as he slammed one hand against the defense bench. "I said I would be the one defending him, and I--"
"Your client disagrees, and you have been released from your primary service," Prosecutor Barnaby interrupted, raising one hand to silence him. "You heard him yourself. This is what he wants to do, and we're in no position to deny him his requests. Now, if you have no other objections, we have a trial to begin. We should concentrate on that... Especially now that things have become considerably more interesting."
Judge Graves hesitated for a long moment, contemplating everyone's words, before she let out a careful sigh. "If this is what the defendant requests, then... So be it. He will be taking care of himself in this trial regardless of how unorthodox it is. That settles it."
Evander continued to stare at me in overwhelming shock as Prosecutor Barnaby cleared his throat. "This trial is certainly off to an interesting start... Though I have to wonder if it will change the outcome of the case at all. If I had to guess, I would say that the answer is no," he said. "No rookie will be able to best me, and the case against him is incredibly tight... Regardless of who defends him or if he defends himself, the fact of the matter is that he is the guilty party, and everyone will come to know it with time."
Rather than listening fully to Prosecutor Barnaby's crowing, Judge Graves nodded to herself. "Please, Prosecutor Barnaby... The court would like to hear your explanation of what happened on the day of the crime. I understand the murder in question is rather simple... Is that correct?" she questioned.
Prosecutor Barnaby nodded as he reached for a paper resting on the bench before him. "The murder took place in the back alley of a street near here," he began. "Construction has been taking place on Baker Street over the course of the last few weeks, and it was at the heart of that construction site that the victim's body was found. The victim of this case, Mary-Ann Shawe, was found collapsed with a pool of blood around her head in the alleyway... And the defendant was seen standing just in front of her corpse."
I winced at his phrasing. It had hardly been my finest moment, but I knew that saying that out loud wouldn't win me any favors with the judge or the court as a whole. They already thought I was the killer, and saying much of anything would probably only make them hate me more. Besides, everything Prosecutor Barnaby was saying was correct. I hadn't been the one responsible for the murder, but I had been there when the victim collapsed... But why in the world would I want her dead? I didn't even know her.
In fact, the first time I saw Mary-Ann Shawe was seconds before her death. I had been walking through the streets of London when I tripped over something and ran into her. She responded sharply and seemed to hate me for it. As it turned out, I had tripped over a stray brick that had fallen to the ground in the course of the nearby construction. I leaned down to pick it up and put it out of the way so no one else would risk falling, but--
"Beyond that, he had a weapon in his hand," Prosecutor Barnaby went on. "He was carrying a brick as he stood over her dead body! The instant he realized he had been spotted by the two witnesses nearby, he dropped the brick and froze. The brick was found in the pool of blood around the victim's head, making it seem as if he had struck her in the head and left her to die. He was found at the scene of the murder with a weapon in his hand over the victim's dead body... Truly, what more could you ask for in the way of evidence and proof?"
--That had happened.
The gallery chattered around me, and I bit down on my bottom lip. I hadn't done anything to hurt her, really! I was trying to apologize for running into her while I moved the brick, and she randomly collapsed dead! I didn't even register what had happened until I looked up and saw that she had fallen to the ground. A few people overheard the commotion and came to investigate, and that was when I was framed for the crime. They thought I had hit her with the brick, but that wasn't what happened at all. Instead, I just dropped the brick into the blood, and that was all it took. There was no way to prove that I hadn't hit her with the brick once it was dropped in the blood, and everyone was sure I was responsible. From there... Well, it was just a matter of time before I was arrested for the case and taken away to the prison to wait for my trial.
Judge Graves hit her gavel against the podium. "Order!" she exclaimed, and the gallery fell silent on the spot. "That certainly is an incriminating set of circumstances... The defendant was found standing over the victim's body with the murder weapon in hand..."
Prosecutor Barnaby nodded. "The investigation that followed certified that the victim did, in fact, die from a blow to the head. She was hit hard on the top of her skull, and she died instantly because of the force. A brick was an easy weapon that would do the job in a matter of seconds... And it didn't even leave her the chance to cry out in pain," he said with a heavy sigh. "It's a tragedy that someone so brilliant was taken from us so soon because of the cruelty of a killer..."
"We cannot end the trial right now regardless of how obvious it may seem at a first glance as to who was responsible," Evander interrupted as he pointed to Prosecutor Barnaby with a heavy frown. "The defendant is owed the process of justice, and that right will not change regardless of how incriminating the case seems."
"Hm... Perhaps you're right. It would be a shame if this trial ended before I was truly able to enjoy myself, after all," Prosecutor Barnaby shrugged to himself. He turned his attention to me next, and I did my best to not freeze from sheer nerves on the spot. "Well, suspect? Will you you admit to your crime, or will you draw out this trial as long as possible out of desperation?"
I wanted to shout out of desperation that I wasn't the killer and that he was wrong to accuse me of the crime, but I knew that wouldn't get me anywhere. Getting caught up in my own feelings wouldn't help to prove that I wasn't the culprit. I needed to take this as slowly and carefully as necessary to ensure it ended alright. "I would like to go through with the rest of the trial," I replied evenly. "I can prove that I was not the one responsible for the crime, and I intend to do so."
Prosecutor Barnaby smirked at that, but he offered no rude comment, at least not immediately. "If you're so insistent, then so be it. I look forward to seeing where this takes us," he murmured. "First though, I need to know... Do you admit to being there at the scene of the crime when the victim's body was discovered?"
I hesitated at that. There wasn't anything I could say to change the fact of the matter. I had been there, and multiple people had seen me looking down at the victim's body. Lying about that wouldn't have any point. "I... I was there," I confirmed with a small nod. "However, I was not the one responsible for the murder. I tripped, and I was trying to move the brick out of the way. When I looked back to her, she was just... Dead."
"That's a rather poor excuse, defendant," Prosecutor Barnaby sighed as he pinched at the bridge of his nose. "If you're going to lie about being the one behind the murder, the least you could do is come up with a nice story that will entertain the people in the gallery. People don't just die when you look up at them."
"She died while I was looking at the brick," I clarified. "I don't know what happened, but something must have fallen on her head when I was looking away. That would explain why she was found dead on the ground afterward, right?"
Prosecutor Barnaby snorted and shook his head. "You can say that as much as you like, but that won't change the fact of the matter, especially since there was nothing at the scene of the crime that could have fallen on her head in the first place," he declared. He held up a photograph, and I already knew what picture it was going to depict. "As proof, I submit this evidence... A photograph taken at the time of the investigation. It shows the victim's body on the ground and the surrounding area. As you can see quite clearly, there is nothing here that could have been considered dangerous enough to kill her."
Judge Graves nodded solemnly. "The court accepts this into evidence."
As soon as I was given the chance, I took a look at the picture with a small frown. Sure enough, it was exactly as I remembered the crime scene looking. The victim was sprawled out on the ground with a thin layer of sediment over her body. It was dust from the nearby construction, I could only assume, though there was very little of it since most of the sand had blown away by the time the picture was taken. A brick rested off to the side of her head, the very same one that I had dropped when I first realized she was dead. Scaffolding could be seen in the background of the scene along with an empty sack that once held materials for the construction but no longer did. The crime scene was simple, but there had to be something there that would explain how she died. I hadn't killed her, and I didn't have any ideas about how she could have died either. I just needed to look a bit closer to figure out what had happened...
"The victim died from a blow to the head," Evander murmured to himself. "If you didn't hit her with the brick, then something else must have happened. I agree with you on that. I'm not entirely certain as to what it could mean though. I don't see anything here that could have fit the bill for something that would have killed her."
"How could something have even dropped on her head in the first place?" I asked softly. I had said it in the heat of the moment, but I wasn't entirely sure if it was accurate. It felt like the only explanation, but... I would have noticed it if she was killed by something dropping on her head, right? I could only assume so, but I never did... The wound on her head was telling, and that had to mean something, but I didn't know what to do about it. "I'm starting to think all of this was wrong..."
"You're getting ahead of yourself," Evander assured me. "We can learn more through the testimony of the witnesses. That's the only place for us to go from here, and we should take care of that first."
I nodded. "You're right," I told him. I glanced back to Prosecutor Barnaby at that, knowing what he was going to say next. My heart was already racing in my chest at the thought of speaking with the witnesses, but I knew I had no choice in the matter. This was what the letter had instructed of me, and I wasn't going to go against it no matter how much it scared me.
"With the photo submitted to the court, I believe it's time for me to summon the witnesses to the stand," Prosecutor Barnaby declared just as I expected he would. "If that would please you, of course, My Lord."
Judge Graves nodded. "Please bring the witnesses to the courtroom at this time."
I took in a careful breath at that, doing my best to ignore the fact that I felt like collapsing on the spot. I would have to power through for the sake of my own future. This was the only chance I had, and I couldn't mess it up now... Focus, Hiro! This is where it all counts! I need to stay calm for my own sake.
I had no idea how I would do that, but... Well, I guess I would just have to figure it out, huh?