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 used 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.