/
As the surroundings were submerged in darkness, Sehun’s hand stretched out to Yoonshin. He firmly grasped Yoonshin’s soft cheeks and swiftly stole a kiss on his lips. It happened so quickly that by the time the light flooded the screen, Sehun was already back in place, his back straight, staring at the front.
Sehun felt barely in Yoonshin’s reach, brushing at his fingertips teasingly, and Yoonshin couldn’t contain the flurry of complex emotions that came with that feeling. He hid the anxiety rising to his face and reached out under the armrest.
Yoonshin grabbed the other’s right hand, bumpy with veins, and swept his thumb across the other’s neat and clean nails. Instead of pushing him away, Sehun kneaded the webs of Yoonshin’s fingers in reply. Yoonshin bit his lips, his cheeks twitching as he tried to push down the corners of his lips.
When he was about to lean against the other’s shoulders, the other glanced down at Yoonshin.
Their eyes met, and Sehun grinned in defeat.
Yoonshin froze completely, unable to move a single muscle.
‘Really, he drives me crazy.’
The greed of wanting to grasp Sehun crashed over him. Yoonshin’s heart felt like it would burst.
Act 16
The high school near the firm was quiet. There were no students, and as the last day of the year, there was a very tranquil serenity hanging in the air. The small lecture hall was the only space filled with people. Yoonshin was surrounded by teens. He looked around the students who encircled him, gazing up at him with sparkling eyes, and announced the end of the special lecture.
“Okay, I’ll take a few questions and we can wrap up. Any questions?” Yoonshin asked warmly.
One girl raised her hand and asked, “The trials that I see in dramas and movies are extremely intense. Do prosecutors and lawyers fight like that in real life?”
Yoonshin mused about his answer for a moment then said, “Hmm, it depends on the case, but it’s rare to have people stating their arguments so strongly and fighting for it like on TV. We’re all in the same practice, so we’re careful with our words. Let’s take a criminal trial, for example. If the defendant stands at their trial, this usually means that the police investigations are over and that they were handed over to the prosecution, who will formally press charges. Generally, this means that the prosecution has evidence that this person could be guilty.”
Yoonshin met eyes with his attentive students. He continued, “Prosecutors are extremely busy people. As such, when they hand a case over to trial with some certainty that they are guilty of the crimes they committed, the defense lawyer then tries to decrease the sentence instead of trying to prove the innocence of their client. It’s quite rare for the defense to turn the case on its head. Has anyone watched a real trial before?”
Most of the students shook their heads.
“The courts are mostly open to the public. As long as a trial isn’t closed to the public, anyone can attend. When you have the chance, it would be good to watch for yourself. If you send an application to our incorporated association, we would probably be happy to accompany you on your trip.”
A boy who was thinking about Yoonshin’s answer then asked playfully.
“Your Honor! Why do you say that? It sounds kind of lame.”
Yoonshin, not denying it, chuckled. “We don’t actually say it as often as they do in dramas. Rather, we use it more often as an address in written hearings and letters. The formal reason is that the judge makes the ultimate ruling. The ruling will be based on the law, but judges are people too. The main objective is to make the trier of law feel respected. Even if it sounds lame to you, it’s the right thing to say. Are there any other questions?”