Love and Law (Soukoku)

Hopeless and helpless

Chuuya dropped heavily onto the cold wooden bench outside the courthouse, the sharp bite of autumn air stinging his face, his blue sapphire eyes scanning the sky, as if trying to find answers in the clouds. His breath fogged in front of him, and for a brief second, he watched the vapor dissipate into nothing—just like his chances, slipping through his fingers. He couldn't believe his luck. Could it get any worse? It could... and he knew it was going to...

His hands, rough and trembling slightly, found their way to his lap, clenching tightly to his pants. The skin of his face and hands was pale from the cold, or maybe from the tension that seemed to have rooted itself inside him, refusing to let him go. He tried to focus on the distant hum of traffic, the indistinct murmur of voices nearby, but nothing could drown out the gnawing panic that threatened to consume him whole.

His lawyer was late. 

He had already been through hell with his first lawyer, a cocky know-it-all who seemed more interested in his paycheck than in Chuuya's case. The promises of an easy resolution, the reassurances that it was "just a formality" had evaporated the moment things got complicated. That ass quit. Now, here he was, clinging to the scraps of hope he had left, relying on a second lawyer—a stranger he barely trusted or even knew, he hadn't even met this lawyer -- yet he relied on this stranger to save him from this abyss.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and Chuuya hunched his shoulders against the cold. His life, his future, everything was in the hands of someone who couldn't even bother to show up on time. How had he ended up here? How had things spiraled so far out of control? Out of his control? Chuuya was one who never depended on anyone or showed any weakness, that's why he got so far in the entertainment industry. Now he was here. Hopeless and helpless.

The courthouse loomed behind him like a fortress, its towering columns casting long, ominous shadows across the pavement. To Chuuya, it felt like a prison, one he couldn't escape. The air felt thicker the closer he got to that building, as if the walls themselves were closing in on him, suffocating any last shred of hope. He glanced at the clock mounted high on the courthouse wall. The hands seemed to mock him with every passing second. He was supposed to be inside by now, standing in front of a judge, pleading his case, fighting for his freedom and career -- To be able to sing and play on stage again. But instead, here he was—waiting. Waiting for a lawyer who hadn't even bothered to call.

"What the hell," he muttered under his breath, frustration bubbling up inside him. It was starting to feel like fate was conspiring against him. He'd already been through enough—endless meetings, sleepless nights, constant anxiety gnawing at his sanity. And now, in the eleventh hour, the person who was supposed to defend him was nowhere to be found.

Chuuya's jaw tightened, and he raked a hand through his messy ginger hair, trying to steady his breathing. Every minute that ticked by felt like another nail in the coffin. His heart pounded, each beat a painful reminder that time was running out. The judge wouldn't wait. The court wouldn't care. To them, he was just another name on a docket, another case to be processed and filed away. But to Chuuya, this was everything. This was his life.

For a moment, he considered calling his lawyer. Maybe there was an explanation, a valid reason for this delay. But as he pulled out his phone, he paused. What was the point? He'd already called earlier, only to get sent straight to voicemail. The same hollow message, the same empty promise to call back.

A hollow laugh escaped his lips, the sound bitter in the crisp air. Why had he even let himself hope that this time would be different? Why had he put any faith in a system that had done nothing but fail him at every turn? He was alone in this. He had been from the start. The realization settled deep in his chest, heavy and unyielding.

He couldn't do this anymore.

The thought hit him with the force of a freight train. His chest tightened, and a strange, painful clarity washed over him. Maybe it was time to give up. To stop fighting a battle he wasn't even sure he could win. He had tried—tried harder than he ever thought he could—but it was never enough. It was like fighting against a tide too strong to overcome. Maybe it was time to let go.

Chuuya's gaze flicked back to the courthouse, the imposing structure that stood between him and the life he had once taken for granted, the life he yearned for more than anything else. He tried to imagine himself walking through those doors, standing before the judge, pleading his case. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see it. He couldn't picture the outcome he wanted so desperately. All he saw was failure. All he saw was the end.

The wind picked up, swirling around him, tugging at the edges of his coat. The chill seeped into his bones, but it wasn't the cold that made him shiver—it was the realization that this was it. There was no more waiting, no more hoping. It was time to accept reality.

He took one last look at the clock, its hands still moving with an indifferent precision, and then stood up. The bench creaked in protest as he rose, the sound echoing in the emptiness around him. His legs felt weak, unsteady, as if they weren't quite ready to support him. But he forced himself to take a step, then another. Each step felt heavier than the last, but he didn't stop. He couldn't.

As he walked away from the courthouse, the weight of his decision bore down on him. It felt final, irrevocable, like crossing a line he could never return from. But what choice did he have? He had fought and waited long enough. His second lawyer hadn't shown up. He had no one left to rely on.

A gust of wind tore at him again, colder this time, biting through the fabric of his coat. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, trying to keep the numbness at bay, but it was too late. It wasn't just the cold that was seeping in—it was resignation.

Maybe it was time to disappear. To walk away from the trial, from the endless cycle of disappointment, failure and pain. Maybe it was time to let the gavel fall without him there to witness it. What did it matter anymore? They had already made up their minds. The system didn't care about people like him—he was a celebrity, yes but not a big one, he was a singer, in a major band but that was all, he was self made, the agency he worked for was self-made. The judiciary found that it was easier to swallow people like him whole, to grind them down until there was nothing left but dust, especially when he was alone, his agency nor his bandmates helped. 

Chuuya clenched his jaw, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. He wouldn't cry. Not here, not now. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction. But inside, he was breaking, crumbling under the weight of it all. Every step away from the courthouse felt like another fracture in his resolve, another crack in the armor he had built to protect himself from the world.

And yet, he kept walking. Because what else could he do?

The streets stretched out before him, endless and indifferent. As he walked, the sounds of the city faded into the background, the honking horns and chatter of strangers becoming nothing more than white noise. He was alone with his thoughts, with the crushing realization that he had reached the end of the line.

And there, in the silence, Chuuya accepted it.



Words: 1425

A/N: Hello there! Hope ya'll are well!
This is a new fanfic! I thought a lot about this one, and I really like the plot I came up with! 

Also! 'Shattered into the void' almost has a 1000 reads... Wow! Thank you so much for that! 
I will continue that in after a while, cuz I need to think a little on how I want the story plot to go.

First chapter of 'Love and Law'! 

This is also prologue, probably, I dunno...