As the professor tends to Akiko’s bruised face, Noriaki comes up the stairs shouting. He pounds on the apartment door, interrupting the professor’s compassionate care. Having failed to gain entry, the enraged lover retreats to the street and creates a scene, screaming up at the professor’s window and accusing him of lying. In fact the professor never lied, and to our knowledge he may be innocent of the sexual encounter of which Noriaki accuses him. There is a brief moment of silence as the professor looks out the window hoping the coast is clear. Then again we hear the scream, “liar,” and a rock comes crashing through the window. The credits roll. We can suppose that however the professor imagined his relationship to Akiko, all that has changed. So, perhaps, has his peaceful existence as a retired scholar. But Kiarostami refuses to tell us how it all turns out. Like Someone in Love ends not with questions but with a take-it-or-leave-it demand that we finish the movie ourselves. I am not sure whether that is art or a failure of imagination.