Drinks: Often Lead To Other Things

William decided that his slough of despondancy was, once and for all, over. What would Chichang say if he saw his friend like this? No, it was time to have some fun. He resolutely left the tiny room he was staying in that evening and went out into the nightclub district.

Everything was so confusing! The lights, the colours, the signs... He found himself a little excited. He didn't know quite where to turn, everything was so new and different. He decided to stop wasting time and just go into the first nightblub he came to. There was no name, but only a neon pink flamingo above the door. He thought it looked quite interesting, as a matter of fact, and so he went in immediately and went to the bar.

It was quite a nice atmosphere inside; the music wasn't too loud and, bizarrely, there were what seemed to be several sailors gathered in one corner. It was mostly full of men, as well; even the bar staff were all men.

"How pleasant." William thought to himself. "A nice little place for a man to come and drink."

He waited for the barman (who called him 'darling' - how strange!) and ordered a simple Coke, not wanting to be too extravagant all at once.

He heard something over the speakers - it was a song he recognised, from quite a few years ago but still good all the same. He tried to listen over the sound of people talking. What were the lyrics, again? So you go, and you stand on your own... Well, he certainly didn't want that to happen; and yet he couldn't help feeling a little shy. These were real Japanese people, not just his teachers from China, and he didn't know how good his Japanese accent was or if he could really be understood. Aside from akk that, he didn't know anyone at all! It was quite... frightening, in a way.

After he had been there for a while, still nursing the same Coke, he dared to look around at the other patrons. Some of them were dressed in rather odd manners, but he put it aside as just being a Japanese thing, since some others were also wearing suits or normal clothes. There was one in particular, a suit man, who was sitting just a few empty barstools away and who met William's eyes when he looked over. William smiled and nodded after a second, and, taking this as an invitation to talk, the other man moved over the intervening barstools to sit next to him.

"Hi." He said. "My name's Takeshi Niro."

"Hi." William replied. "Er, I'm William."

"That's not very Chinese." Takeshi said, recognising of course his accent. "You are Chinese?"

"Yes, I am." William said. "And no, it's not."

At this point, William suddenly realised that Takeshi was in fact a very handsome man, and he was very snappily dressed. Also, he wasn't afraid to flash the cash, immediately offering to buy William an exotic-sounding cocktail.

And that was that. Takeshi Niro, it turned out, was very charming, and full of funny little sayings that made William laugh. And he really liked The Smiths, and kept making jokes about their song that had William's name in it. He had a twinkle in his eye and really nice hair, and he kept touching William's arm, which he didn't mind at all. William couldn't really say exactly how it happened, or indeed what happened, but he found himself a few hours later in the flat belonging to Takeshi Niro. It was spacious and well-decorated, the kind owned only by the wealthy. It was littered with half-empty wine glasses... and scattered, discarded clothing. And, William dimly realised, some of that clothing was his own.

"Well." He thought to himself, "That was certainly an interesing evening."

Search: The need for a home of one's own

It took only one month for William to receive the necessary visas for immigration, and to pack up his wordly possessions (which promptly boarded a boat across the East China Sea), before he set off to begin his new life in Nagoya, Japan.

On arrival, he booked himself into a hostel just near the airport. It was cheap, and he was sure he could secure some sort of official residence soon enough. He was lucky enough to score a room on his own, even if it didn't have a lock. But at least it had a sink. William was prepared to be odourous for a few days if it meant not sharing a bathroom with heathens. He had seen too many prison films.

After a surprisingly fulfilling sleep, William set off into town to begin his property hunt. He was searching the cheapest places - in fact, he came across a squat that was literally one room. This would force him to have takeaway each night for dinner, since there was no kitchen, and use the showers at swimming pools. The asking price was, however, still too high - and when William realised there was no means of heating, he was not too disappointed by the rejection.

Even though he couldn't go lower , price-wise and moral-wise, than that place, he looked around five other places - still far too high a price. William sighed heavily. Maybe that casual tramp had been right when he had said that he needed those pennies more than he did. He hated himself for wasting a year at university. He hated having spent his money on an absolutely useless course, and a promiscuous girlfriend. The only person he maybe, possibly, slightly, had left turn to, was Mike Kevinson. But where was he in this time? When he needed him most? Surely he'd put him up for a few nights at the most.

William sat on a bench in a park. He was made even more upset when he noticed a poster from a local right-wing party, saying in gargantuan Kanji letters, "FOREIGNERS GO HOME". It was only when - out of nowhere in the desolate park - a crow pecked the last symbol, that William realised that he himself was a foreigner. But then he took it to mean that he should return to the youth hostel, stay there for a few more nights, and take everything as it came. It wasn't tourist season, after all. Rooms were definitely up for grabs.

Decisions: They come on us suddenly

Poor, poor William. It seemed to him as if his life truly could not get any worse. Why didn't Sisi love him? Why was Chichang dead? Where the hell was Mike Kevinson? It all went round in his head, to the point where he began to feel nauseous. He decided that a bit of fresh air was in order, and left his house, going out into the streets. He walked for a long time; he knew not where.

After quite some time had passed, he found himself still feeling utterly dreadful, and sat down on a bench. He had just that day recieved a report from his tutor on how his grades were doing, and had been devasted. He wasn't even getting an E in this year's work. It seemed the past two years had been totally pointless. What did he have to show for them? No girlfriend, no friend, no grades, and certainly no Mike Kevinson. But, why should he look up to that man any more, anyway?! He was a fiend, a beast! He had stolen Sisi! And just what reason would a man such as he have for seducing a young woman anyway?!

William sighed. He could add "no one to look up to" to his list. He got up and started walking again, aimlessly. He wandered through the many streets of the town, at one point passing by a tramp by the side of the shops.

"Here, mate," The tramp called out softly, "Are you alright?"

Alarmed at being asked this by none other than a tramp, William paused to speak with him. "No, I'm not, to be honest with you. I'm in a slough of despondancy."

"A slough of despondancy, eh?" The tramp said, and shook his head. "I have no idea what that means, but you look like you could do with a hot drink. Here, have some change."

"Ah, no thank you." William answered. "Don't you usually collect change, rather than giving it out?"

"Yes, but you look like you need it more than me."

"Oh." William answered glumly, and, with his hands in his pockets, slouched away again, now feeling even worse than before.

Somehow his steps directed him in a circle, and he found himself back at the bench he had been sitting on before. It was still deserted and so he retook his place, falling into almost a stupor of misery.

Some time passed before William became aware of the crow that was perched just in front of him. It was looking at him with what could only be described as an intelligent stare. After William had been looking at it for a few moments, it dropped a twig on the floor and flew away.

Curious, William walked over to look at the twig. He suddenly realised that the square in front of him was designed to be a map of the world, laid out on the floor in brass plate set into concrete. It was very peculiar; but the crow had dropped his twig on Japan. William thought to himself for a moment.

"Mike Kevinson comes from Japan. I speak fluent Japanese. I'm not doing too well in China. I wonder..."

And just like that, without much preamble or warning, William had decided: he was going to quit university, sell his house, and move to Japan.