Free Rashomon Gate by I. J. Parker Page A

disciples and commentators are based on nothing more than their profound understanding of personal relationships, and personal relationships can best be studied by observing people's actions and finding out the reasons for them."
    Akitada looked at the nosy Nishioka with new respect. "I must confess," he said with a slight smile, "that I share your interest in people's behavior and am equally guilty of curiosity about the boy."
    Nishioka clapped his hands. "There, you see!" he cried. "I knew we were kindred souls. We must put our heads together! I shall tell you everything I find out, and you shall do the same." At that moment his eye was caught by something across the room. He said hastily, "Please excuse me now. I must find out what Oe and Takahashi are snarling about."
    Across the room, the two senior professors were engaged in some bitter argument as Ono stood by wringing his hands helplessly.
    "Hmm," said Fujiwara, thoughtfully. "There is one difference between you and Nishioka, though. I think you ask questions because you care about people, while Nishioka only cares about a good story." He shook his head. "To most people he seems harmless enough, but the truth is, when that little fellow is about, nobody's secret is safe. Look at him! We'll have all the facts about that tiff between Oe and Takahashi in the twinkling of an eye."
    As it turned out, it was to take longer than that, because Ono suddenly stepped on the dais and called everyone to order. Oe and Takahashi parted, and people took their seats, assigned by rank, department and seniority. Akitada found his own place behind Hirata, who was himself several seats removed from Oe who occupied the center of the semicircle facing the dais.
    When Ono introduced Oe, he rose and ascended the dais majestically. His handsome face still flushed from the altercation, he looked resplendent in his blue silk gown, with every silver hair in place. He let his compelling eyes move across the assembly. "My friends and colleagues," he said, "allow me to take a little of your time to share good news."
    "As little time as possible," muttered Fujiwara audibly.
    But Oe was not to be rushed. His mellifluous voice weighed out the words like gold. "In our glorious past," he intoned, "our ancestors were accustomed to follow in the footsteps of the ancients."
    Akitada found his interest wandering as Oe droned on and on about ancient rites and virtues, those long lost happy days when poets were venerated and rewarded. Instead he let his eyes roam among the faces of those men who might have altered the examination results.
    Hirata, slightly in front of him, he saw only in profile. Deep lines edged his features and his chin rested on his chest. Only the hands moved restlessly, twisting and kneading the fabric of his robe.
    Tanabe seemed to doze, a happy smile on his face, as innocent-looking an old man as Akitada had ever seen. By contrast, Takahashi, who sat next to him, was biting his lip, simmering with a fury that was about to explode. All of this fury was focused on Oe. He, however, was unaware of his audience as he lost himself in his own eloquence. Only Fujiwara listened, and he was clearly impatient.
    "Alas," Oe was saying, spreading his arms for effect. "Those times are past. Our morals have declined as our aesthetic pursuits have become mere games for women and children. Those few of us who are serious poets toil in vain in the sterile soil of public apathy."
    Fujiwara yawned loudly.
    Oe shot him an angry glance, and continued. "But far be it from me to dwell on our sufferings, for at last the fruitful rains of official approval are falling again. At last the revitalizing sun of imperial interest pierces the heavy clouds of indifference." Raising his voice triumphantly, he cried, "At long last, we shall have a poetry contest again!"
    Since this was no longer news to anyone, only Ono jumped up and applauded.
    Oe tried again. "And no ordinary contest either!" he cried. "It is to be a