In the land of Japan, in the days of the Shogunate, there was a judge named Ooka, who was famed for his wisdom and his justice.
This is a tale from when Ooka was still a young man, only recently advanced to the position of judge, and was not yet famous.
There was a student who lived above a tempura house. This student was very poor. His parents were able to give him 5 ryo a year; two ryo went to the university, and two ryo he paid in rent to the owner of the tempura house.
One day, a friend of the student came over, and the owner of the tempura house overheard them talking, for the student's apartment was very small.
"It is a sad thing, that you are so poor," the student's friend was saying.
"That is true," the student replied, "but I have found that, with a little thought, one can make the best of things."
"How is that?" his friend asked.
"Well, look at my food, for instance. My parents can only afford to send me five ryo a year. Two ryo I must pay to the university, to attend classes. And two ryo I must pay to the owner of the tempura house, so that I have a place to live. Which leaves me only one ryo with which to buy food."
"That is terrible. How do you live?"
"Each year, I buy one very large bag of plain rice. And I eat only a small amount of plain rice, every day."
"But that is not very good. It must be unpleasant, eating only plain rice every day."
"Ah," the student said, raising his finger. "But I eat my rice every day at noon, when the owner of the tempura shop is cooking his tempura. The wonderful smells of the cooking tempura fill my small room, and make my plain white rice taste like a feast."
Now, the owner of the tempura shop was very stingy, and he did not like for people to get the best of him. When he heard how the student was using the smell of his cooking to enhance his food, he became quite angry, and burst into the room.
"Thief!" he said. "You have been using the smell of my cooking for years, and have never paid me a single sen! I demand that you pay me for all of the smells that you have used!"
The student laughed. "Please, honorable landlord, you cannot be serious. Smells are free! You cannot ask that I pay for it."
But the shop owner was only made more angry by the student's laughter, and resolved to take the matter before the court. So, several days later, both he and the student were in the local magistrate's courtroom, presenting their cases to the young judge Ooka.
"Please, honorable judge," the shop owner said, "this student has been using the smell of my cooking for years without paying for it. I am only asking that I recieve equitable payment for the work which he has benefitted from. I ask that he pay me one ryo a year in additional rent, and that he pay me four ryo in addition for the four years which he has been stealing the smell of my cooking."
The spectators in the courtoom laughed, for asking someone to pay for a smell was foolish. But Ooka silenced them with a wave of his hand.
"I see," said Ooka. He turned to the student. "Is this true, that you have been using this man's cooking smells for four years?"
"It is, honorable judge," the student replied, "but surely you cannot ask me-"
"Do not presume to instruct me as to what I must or must not do," Ooka said. "It seems to me that the shopkeep is entirely correct - you have been using his smells, and he must be compensated for them."
The spectators gasped.
"But honorable judge!" the student protested. "I cannot possibly pay him. I do not have five ryo."
Ooka nodded. "Very well then." He reached into his robes and withdrew some coins. "Here, here are five ryo. Take them."
The spectators gasped again, but Ooka quieted them with a stern look.
"Honorable judge, I cannot take your money. If I cannot pay the shop owner, how can I possibly pay you back? I will not take your money."
"Take the money," Ooka said, his hand still out. "You will be returning it to me presently."
Confused, the student took the money.
"Now," Ooka said, "show the shop owner the money."
"Yes, yes," the shop owner said, extending his hands. "You are most wise and fair, honorable judge."
"Do you see the money?" Ooka asked. "Is it the five ryo you are asking for?"
"Yes, yes. Give it to me."
"Very well," Ooka said. "Now, young man, pass the money back and forth, from one hand to the other."
Still confused, the student did so. The coins made a pleasant clinking sound as they rolled from one hand into the other.
"Honorable shopkeep," Ooka asked, "do you hear the coins that the student has in his hands?"
"Yes, yes," the man said. "But he has not given them to me."
"That is as it should be," Ooka replied. "You may now return my money to me," he instructed the student, who placed the coins on the dias where Ooka was sitting.
"But honorable judge!" the shopkeep protested. "I have not been paid!"
"On the contrary," Ooka replied. "You have been paid in full. The payment should always suit the service provided - and the payment for the smell of food is obviously the sound of money. I believe that this case has now been solved equitably for all parties."