From Fukushima to Family Law

A Lawyer's Unexpected Path to Peace on a Human Scale

Meet Yuki Ashina, a lawyer in the industrial city of Shizuoka, an hour from Tokyo.

Yuki graduated from one of Japan’s most prestigious law schools and was on the fast track for a career in Tokyo. But first, she signed up for a two-year fellowship from the Tokyo Bar Association to work as a pro bono lawyer in a rural community. She was sent to a beautiful yet impoverished place that would soon become infamous—Fukushima.

At first, the work was rewarding. “In the entire region, I was one of only two lawyers. People came to me with every kind of problem, from inheritance disputes to property sales,” she recalls. Since many residents had never worked with a lawyer before, she adopted creative approaches to make legal guidance accessible, hosting informational sessions at city hall. This out-of-the-box thinking broadened her perspective. “I soon realized that people’s legal problems were often intertwined with emotional and psychological struggles.” She began studying counseling and integrating those skills into her client consultations. It was the start of a different approach to law.

Yuki’s fellowship ended, and she returned to city law practice. Then, on March 11, 2011, a magnitude 6.6 earthquake struck Fukushima, followed by a tsunami—the largest Japan had seen in a thousand years—and, ultimately, the worst nuclear disaster since Chernobyl. Many people Yuki knew lost their homes. Some were swept away in the tsunami. And as radiation fears mounted, entire towns were evacuated.

As people dispersed to evacuation centers, they faced enormous uncertainty. Would they ever return home? What were the long-term health effects of radiation exposure? Living in makeshift shelters without privacy or a clear plan for the future placed immense strain on families. Some who relocated found that their children were bullied and ostracized as “radioactive.” There were divorces, even suicides.

Yuki sprang into action, filing compensation claims on behalf of victims. “Mostly, I listened. I listened with my heart to their pain and concerns. Then I would say, ‘Here’s what the law can do for you. We will try to do more, but some things are beyond the law.’” Even today, thirteen years later, she tears up when speaking about her clients.

She realized the most profound and lasting damage of Fukushima wasn’t to property or even health—it was to families. This realization led her to an area of law far removed from high-flying corporate practice: family law. Today, she handles countless divorce cases, not just for Fukushima survivors but for the growing number of people navigating Japan’s shifting attitudes toward marriage and family. She has also become an advocate for marginalized immigrants, such as Southeast Asian women who came to Japan as brides.

Yuki’s approach is both visionary and pragmatic. “The foundation of good lawyering is constructing a logical, technical argument. You have to start with excellent technical work,” she says. “You have to represent your client’s interests.” But she doesn’t stop there. She finds solutions her clients may not see. “Because it’s not my personal situation, I can sometimes offer a clearer perspective.”

Her particular concern is for children caught in bitter custody battles. “Often, parents want to fight for custody, and then, when they win, they want to cut the other parent out of the child’s life,” she explains. “This is where I insist: ‘Think about your kids. Put yourself in their place. Imagine how stressful it must be to see their parents fighting. A child needs self-confidence. They need to know they are loved by both parents. Do this for your child.’” Because Yuki listens empathetically, her clients listen to her in turn. On the whole, they heed her advice. It’s a small but powerful way she contributes to peace.

Her ability to broaden the issue—beyond just winning cases to considering the well-being of children and society—has earned her the respect of judges. “They know I represent one side, but sometimes they ask for my opinion informally, saying, ‘Ms. Ashina, your perspective is important to resolving this case. What do you think?’”

Lessons from Yuki’s Story

1. You don’t have to travel the world to make a difference. Opportunities for justice, peace, and sustainability exist right where we are—if we pay attention.

2. Big change often comes from small actions. Beyond sweeping policies, meaningful impact happens in quiet moments: a conversation that shifts someone’s thinking, a project that nudges progress forward. The seemingly invisible acts of care and advocacy matter.

3. Listening is a powerful tool. Yuki’s ability to truly hear people—without judgment—has shaped her career and helped her identify where she was most needed. It has made her a better lawyer and a more effective advocate.

4. The fundamentals matter. Thinking big is important, but execution also matters. “A lawyer must write a high-quality technical brief. There are unglamorous but critical tasks that must be done right,” Yuki says. “Both sides—vision and execution—are essential.”

Yuki Ashina’s career shows us that justice is ultimately about human relations. And sometimes, the most powerful thing we can do is simply listen.