Rashomon Gate – A Mystery of Ancient Japan

by Ingrid J Parker

  Sighing deeply, Akitada bowed to the master again, apologetically, and then walked through the hall to the small anteroom under the eaves. Here were the pegs where the professors had hung their formal robes for the rites. A door connected the room to the temple hall, and another door opposite led to the outside. Akitada opened the latter and looked out into the main courtyard. Shrubbery surrounding a stand of pines hid this entrance from general view. Anyone could have entered or left without being seen.

  He turned and was staring at the row of pegs on the wall, when a slight cough startled him.

  The door to the temple hall had opened a crack, and through it a long-faced man was watching him from under bushy eyebrows.

  "Ah! A visitor!" he cried, stepping fully into the anteroom. "May I offer my humble services in showing the honorable gentleman around?" Middle-aged and gawky, he bowed rather more deeply than Akitada's sober gown and casual headdress required. He wore a wrinkled and disordered robe of poorly dyed cotton, and thick hair escaped in all directions from his topknot. Akitada took him for a servant.

  "Nishioka is the name," the odd man said genially. "Master of Confucian classics. You see, you are in good hands. May I ask the gentleman's honored name?" He peered inquisitively at Akitada. His broad nose twitched with curiosity.

  Perhaps the man's appearance was due to a scholarly disregard for aesthetics, but given his shaggy brows and lantern jaw, he was certainly one of the least impressive intellectuals Akitada had ever met. Still, he returned the bow, saying, "I am Sugawara and a colleague of yours for the next few weeks, though I am to teach law. Are you assistant to Professor Tanabe?"

  The other smiled broadly. "Delighted! Absolutely delighted! Yes, indeed! I have that honor and pleasure. A great scholar and a constant inspiration to me! He is perhaps a friend of yours?"

  "A former teacher rather. A tough one."

  "Ah! I see! Well, yes. Some of the students seem to feel that he is demanding. So you are to teach law. Do you know Hirata?"

  "Yes. He is a friend, in addition to being a former teacher."

  "No doubt he appointed you for that reason?"

  Akitada stiffened. "I beg your pardon?" The question sounded impertinent, suggested favoritism.

  Nishioka's face lengthened comically. "I see that I have offended. Perhaps I did not phrase my question properly. I merely meant that you must have been an outstanding student."

  "I see. Thank you. As you see, I am becoming reacquainted with the places where I spent my youth. Do you get many visitors here?"

  "Oh, no. That is why I came to ask your business. I try to keep myself informed about the comings and goings. I wish I had more time to chat, but Professor Tanabe is preparing his lecture, and I must help him. If I may, I shall pay you a visit in the law school soon. You will want to know all about the teaching staff and the students." He bowed deeply and disappeared as suddenly as he had come.

  Akitada left also, reflecting that Nishioka seemed to keep himself well informed and would be a useful source of gossip.

  Unable to shake his reluctance to begin his duties, he peered into courtyards as he passed, remembering his student days. The small Buddhist temple looked abandoned, but from the courtyard next to it came the sound of lute music. This was the domain of the arts faculty, comprised of the teachers of music, painting and calligraphy. Akitada had spent happy hours here as a student. Though he lacked musical skills himself, he loved all sorts of instrumental music, especially flutes. Besides, he had found the resident musicians and painters a cheerfully informal lot who were always happy to include lonely students in their celebrations.

  Someone, a virtuoso, was plucking the lute strings in the building on the left. Akitada's heart started beating faster and he followed the sound. But when he turned a corner, the music stopped. He caught a glimpse of a small, plain corner room where two people, a man in his late thirties and a very pretty, heavily made-up young woman, sat side by side, completely engrossed in each other. Both held lutes, but the man put his down to embrace the girl, who giggled.

  After a moment's hesitation, Akitada went to the veranda steps and climbed up. He walked noisily and cleared his throat. Inside he heard the man curse softly and call out, "Who is it?"

  Akitada stepped up to the open door, bowing slightly. The girl was now sitting demurely a few feet away from the man.

  "Who the devil are you?" growled the musician. Like Nishioka, he was far from handsome, having a low, sloping brow and big fleshy lips, but his eyes were large and rather beautiful.

  Akitada was embarrassed. "I beg your pardon for the intrusion. My name is Sugawara and I am to fill in for Professor Hirata's assistant. The lute music was so beautiful that I could not resist finding the player and expressing my admiration."

  The man grimaced. "Well, you've found him," he said ungraciously, then turned to the woman and said, "Run along now and practice!"

  The young woman scrambled up, took her lute, bowed, and tripped out. She was both heavier and clumsier than Akitada had expected. Her rough cotton gown placed her among the lower classes, but she had tied a very handsome sash of red-and gold-figured brocade around her waist.

  "I'm Sato," the musician now said, "and, as you saw, I earn a bit on the side by giving lessons to that stupid girl. It's against the rules, of course, so you had better not mention it. Have a seat." He gestured to the mat and reached for the wine jug and two dirty cups, which were standing next to him. "The wine is very good and fresh. She brought it. Gets it from the place where she entertains." He poured and offered Akitada a cup.

  Akitada saw the greasy smudges of lip rouge on its rim and said, "Oh, thank you, but it is too early in the day for me. Besides I shall need all my wits about me if I am to lecture."

  "Nonsense!" growled the other. "Wine improves the performance, but suit yourself." He emptied Akitada's cup. "I am quite drunk already and start my flute class shortly. Towards evening I sober up enough to visit my favorite wine shop where my friends and I make real music. You can come if you like. It's the Willow, next to the river by the Sixth Street bridge."

  The Kamo River near the Sixth Street bridge was lined with the restaurants, brothels and houses of assignation of the capital's pleasure quarter. Akitada said politely, "Thank you. I look forward to hearing you play the flute some day, but now I must go to my own class." He rose and bowed. The other waved while emptying another cup of wine.

  When Akitada emerged into the street again, he caught a furtive movement across the way. Someone had been standing under the gate which led to the student dormitories. He had ducked away as soon as Akitada had come out. For a moment Akitada was tempted to investigate, but he reminded himself that youngsters delighted in playing tricks on their elders. He turned down a side street which led to the "three faculties," a series of courtyards housing the schools of Chinese classics, mathematics, and law respectively.

  Here he encountered the first sign of academic activity. A senior student, to judge by his age and his dark uniform, came from a side gate leading to the Chinese classics department. He was looking through a thick stack of papers he carried and gave Akitada a brief incurious glance as he passed. Akitada thought him extraordinarily handsome except for a frown of discontent.

  Suddenly nervous about being late, Akitada called after him, "Good morning! Can you tell me, have classes already started?"

  The young man paused, looked at Akitada over his shoulder, snapped, "No," and continued on his way.

  Such rudeness from a student was so unexpected that Akitada stared after him. What could possibly have happened to cause that young man to behave in such a manner? Since there was no one else around, he decided that it must still be quite early. Perhaps he should investigate further.

  The school of Chinese classics was the most prestigious in the university. Its professors held the highest rank, and its graduates were the most likely to win first place honors and advance rapidly in the government.

  The large main hall, customarily use
d for lectures, was connected to smaller flanking halls by covered galleries. There was no one about in the gravelled courtyard or in the galleries. After a moment's indecision, Akitada climbed the steps to the central hall and entered. The vast dim space lay silent, and the classrooms were empty. Once he thought he heard a step in the main hall, but when he went back he found nobody. He began to wonder where all the people were. In his day, the place would have been bustling even at this early hour.

  Then the handsome student suddenly walked into the hall. He stared at Akitada, muttered, "Forgot something," and headed for one of the classrooms.

  "Just a moment, young man," Akitada snapped.

  The student turned around. "Yes?"

  "What is going on here? Where are the professors?"

  "Oh, if you want the great man, he's in the library, along with his personal sycophant," the young man said curtly and jerked his head towards the western wing, before walking away.

  Shaking his head, Akitada walked along the covered gallery. He was by now intensely curious about this student's teachers. In the library, he found two men seated side by side, bent over a yellowing scroll. The older man, tall and with a fine head of white hair, wore a splendid brocade robe. At the sound of the door he looked up angrily.

  "Yes, what do you want?" he barked when he saw Akitada. His face was smooth-shaven and still handsome, but his flashing black eyes fixed Akitada disdainfully. "I am very busy and cannot be troubled with trivial matters."

  Feeling himself flush, Akitada apologized and introduced himself. The elegant gentleman thawed a little, gave his name as Oe, and introduced his companion as his assistant Ono.

  Ono was in his early thirties, small, slender and weak-chinned, a defect which he had sought to disguise by wearing a mustache and a small chin beard.

  "Get some tea, Ono!" Oe commanded, and the younger man jumped up, bowed deeply and scurried out. "Can't abide the fellow," Oe said, without lowering his voice. "No sense of dignity at all and he looks like a squirrel. Acts like one, too. But he's useful. Wouldn't have anyone who wasn't. Sugawara, did you say? Good family that, but sadly come down in the world. Sit down! You were a student here before my time?"

  Akitada nodded.

  "Hmm, law is not a field that appeals to many, but Hirata's a sound man, I hear. Mind you, he's nearly incompetent when it comes to self-advancement. Many a time I have offered to introduce him to the right people, and he turned me down. I have friends in the highest ranks, you know, the very highest…"

  At this moment Ono entered with a tray holding a teapot and bowls, and his superior interrupted himself to reprimand him for his slowness, his clumsiness, and his choice of tea bowls. "You would think you would know by now that I drink only from the imported porcelain cups," he snapped.

  "How stupid of me," Ono said immediately, bowing deeply several times. "Shall I go get them now?"

  "No, no! We will make do this time. Did you steep the tea properly?"

  "I think so." Ono turned to Akitada. "The professor has extremely refined tastes, unlike anyone else in this university. I often tell him that he is wasted on the yokels from the provinces who attend his classes."

  Far from being flattered by this speech, Oe snapped, "Don't be an idiot, man! I have plenty of students from the best families. There is Prince Yoakira's grandson, Lord Minamoto, and a nephew of the prime minister, both of them with imperial blood in their veins. How dare you say I teach yokels?"

  Akitada, trying to divert Oe's wrath from the hapless Ono, said quickly, "Just now I met a very superior looking young man in the main hall. An older student. Very tall and handsome."

  "Older?" Oe frowned at Ono.

  "It must have been Ishikawa, sir. He came early to pick up the essays."

  "Ishikawa? He's a nobody. Graduate student. Clever, but comes from a poor family and stays here on scholarship. Mind you, he makes himself useful by reading papers for me. I am pressed for time, you know. The Kamo festival is coming up, and I am arranging a poetry match between the university faculty and the nobles. We were just reviewing the account of such a contest on the occasion of Emperor Mou Tsung's river party. Very appropriate, as we are to meet in the lake pavilion of the Spring Garden. No doubt you will be invited. Do you compose?"

  "I am afraid my poor talents are solely in the area of prose," Akitada said awkwardly. "A memorial on encouraging farming by easing the rice tax, and a report on Buddhist practices in the provinces."

  "Hmm. I can't abide the Buddhists. The Chinese knew how to deal with them. Kicked all the monks out of the temples and melted down the gold buddhas for the imperial treasury. Recite some lines from the thing on farmers!"

  Akitada confessed that he could not remember enough to oblige.

  "That should tell you something. If it were good, you'd remember. I myself composed a memorial several years ago. It went like this."

  Oe recited in a deep, resonant voice. Akitada began to understand the man's reputation. The syllables and lines rolled from his tongue like music.

  Ono sat enthralled. When Oe finally stopped, his assistant reached into his sleeve for a tissue to dry his moist eyes. "Beautiful!" he sighed. "Nothing better has ever been written. Not even Po Chu has your way with assonance and the balanced line."

  "You can take the tea things back," said Oe sourly. "I must return to my work, Sugawara, but I expect to see you around."

  Akitada removed himself from the presence of the great Oe. He took a shortcut to the school of law by walking through the courtyard of the mathematics department. A stranger blocked his way.

  "Who are you?" he demanded in an irate tone.

  Akitada explained and discovered that the irascible person was the incumbent in mathematics. Professor Takahashi was a lean man, in his fifties, with thinning hair and the wrinkled face and neck of an ill-tempered turtle. He peered at Akitada for several moments before acknowledging his status as a colleague.

  "I cannot imagine what possesses them to use temporary people," he said nastily. Our reputation is bad enough as it is. However, I dare say this is better than letting Hirata struggle on alone. He is getting past it. Have you met any of the others?"

  Akitada mentioned his morning's encounters.

  "Nishioka is an intellectual zero. He has his nose in everybody's business instead of doing his duties, and Sato is a drunk with the libido of a badger," Takahashi informed him. "Oe, of course, is our great man! Fortune smiles on him. Those empty-headed court nobles are impressed by all that passion and thunder. And fame fills the pockets nicely. The man has even acquired a summer villa on Lake Biwa. Next he will, no doubt, be appointed to the Council of State."

  For a moment Akitada was bereft of words. Takahashi seemed to have few qualms about blackening his colleagues' reputations. What a change from the kindly man who had held this position before! Akitada said, "I see there have been many changes here since my time. Apparently few of my former professors are still teaching. Besides Professor Hirata there seems to be only Professor Tanabe left, and he was busy preparing his lecture when I arrived."

  "More likely taking a nap," snorted Takahashi. "He's senile, I'm afraid. But see for yourself."

  "How are the students?"

  "Blockheads, most of them. What can you expect? Their parents are either doting courtiers who have nothing but pleasure on their minds and don't want the young monsters troubled with work, or they are officials in the provinces where schools are conducted by illiterates."

  "Surely you exaggerate," Akitada protested. "Professor Oe spoke very highly of some of his aristocratic pupils, and I understand he uses one of the graduate students to read his papers."

  "Oh? I did not know that such a thing is permissible. Since the definition of professional ethics has apparently been modified, perhaps we can all turn over our responsibilities to students and enjoy ourselves in our summer homes. Which graduate student is it?"

  "I am afraid I cannot tell you." Akitada had had enough of Takahashi's slanderous comments on ev
erything and everyone, but he could not afford to alienate him. Therefore he said politely, "It has been an honor to meet you, sir, but I am expected in my own department. I think classes are about to start."

  "More's the pity! Another day of one's life wasted! But don't let me stifle your enthusiasm. A temporary assignment is, after all, not a life sentence!"

  Akitada fled. Outside he gulped fresh air and let the morning breeze cool his temper. When he crossed the street to enter the courtyard of the law school, he thought he saw Nishioka walking away, but the fuzzy topknot could have been anyone's.

  Hirata was in an empty classroom arranging seating mats and checking the supply of ink stones, brushes and water containers at every student's place. When he saw Akitada, his face lit up and he asked him about his morning.

  Akitada sighed. "I have met several of your colleagues. The experience has been depressing."

  Hirata laughed. "Let me guess! Takahashi was one of them?"

  "Yes. And an inquisitive fellow called Nishioka, a tipsy lute player with his arms around a prostitute, and a self-proclaimed poet laureate who heaps abuse on his admiring assistant. Oh, and there was also a very rude student who apparently despises them both."

  Hirata chuckled. "Ah, yes. You have been busy! The student must have been Ishikawa. He is expected to take first place in the next examinations and is a bit too sure of himself. I fear his arrogance will stand in his way in the future." Hirata's smile faded. "In this world, talent and ability will not suffice if a young man from a poor background does not also have humility and grace."

  "What has happened to this place? Nothing seems the same. There are signs of neglect everywhere. The students are arrogant, and the professors malign each other. Surely things were not this way in my day?"

  Hirata paused in his arrangements and looked at him. "I'm afraid the times do not favor us. "Then he smiled again. "But come! It isn't so bad. You will like your students, and may come to appreciate some of your colleagues, too."