Love: It's all about seeing the good things

Finally, William had a chance to experience true love. The mixture of Takeshi's striking looks, altruism, skills in the bedroom, skills with the coffee machine and, although William was chagrined to admit it, his wealth, made him an ideal partner.

"Takeshi," asked William one night, staring at the ceiling, "you don't think I'm a bit... lame, do you?"

Takeshi rolled over from where he had been looking at the night stars, still visible over the smog of the city. "What do you mean?"

"Well... you basically picked me up from the darkest place I've been in my life - metaphorically, I mean - and I dunno, perhaps I come off as a bit weak."

"William, weakness is only where you perceive it to be... who do I sound like, Oprah Winfrey?" William gave him a playful shove. "Anyway," Takeshi continued, "you're not weak to me. Look at you. You've gone through being an orphan, getting bullied, your best friend killed, having to leave university, your girl cheating on you with...." Takeshi paused. "But I've made my point - all that has only made you stronger. Plus," he added, giving William a little kiss, "you're pretty much the cutest guy ever."

"I love you, Takeshi," said William.

With that, the two forgot they had ever been insecure.

Memory: The morning after

In a state of confusion after last night's events, William sat up groggily at the breakfast bar whilst Takeshi was making coffee. What had happened? What had happened? This question was repeating itself over and over, in time with his pounding headache thanks to the previous drinks.

Takeshi added frothy milk to William's coffee, put it in front of him on the bar, then sprinkled chocolate on top. "Kanzen!" he said, and smiled. William thanked him. Indeed it was perfect.

"I've got to rush off to work now, so if you could leave when you've drunk your coffee, that would be great." Takeshi began to fish inside his wallet, and William wondered whether he had got the wrong idea about the nature of last night. To his relief, it was just a business card. Takeshi pressed it into William's hand, lingered, and looked him in the eye. "Call me."

"Definitely," said William, as Takeshi said goodbye.

William walked around the streets in a sense of delirium. He suddenly had the urge to buy some new clothes. He went into the nearest Topman branch,which had recently opened in Japan.

An hour later, and hands full of bags of delightful attire, he realised he was now broke. "Shit," said William.

He went into the nearest phone box, looked through the phone book, and wrote addresses of all the restaurants in town. One by one, he made it his task for the afternoon to apply for a job in each. All of them replied along the lines of "Thank you, we will take into consideration."

Safe in the knowledge that he must have burned off many a calorie in all his walking, William relaxed. He decided to go to the library, he was dying to read some English-language books; native speakers here were rather sparse. Choosing to cut through an alleyway was a mistake. The last thing he saw was a flutter of black wings and a sharp pain in his cheek.

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.

Betrayal: A whole new punch in the stomach

William and Sisi's relationship was blooming quickly. William now could relate to the old love cliché of life being in colour rather than a black and white photograph. It was brilliant, and he wondered why before, he had never really given girls a second look.

In fact, Sisi had now moved into William's university accomodation. This was because - in a remarkably similar situation to the deeply missed Chichang - her parents refused to fund her higher education, due to its "blatant ludicrousness". They would have much preferred to fly her out to an American university, wherein she could study at a good medicine school and "actually give something back to society at large, as well as using your English skills". (One of Sisi's traits that William particularly adored was their common fluency in English. It was brilliant if they wanted to say private things to one another in a public place.) However, Sisi was something of a stowaway in William's house - if the university landlord found out that he was being ripped off, there would be big trouble.

One day, William wanted to take Sisi to the Museum for the Development of the Modern Pterygoid - a must for all students of ornithology. However, to his massive disappointment, Sisi had come down with a cold that day; and insisted that he go without her, since she wouldn't want to deprive his extra learning, and much less for him to catch the illness too. William agreed, and at ten o' clock in the morning he got the bus into the inner city.

* * * * *

At about six o' clock in the evening, William came home, shivering and feeling ill. It had rained all day, and he had not dressed appropriately for the weather. It seemed he may as well have stayed home and caught Sisi's cold. As he entered through the door, soaked, he put the kettle on and made himself a cup of hot black tea with tapioca. Absentmindedly, he stuck his hands into the steam rising out of the kettle, wondering how good it would be to have a sauna one day. In fact, he could go to Finland with Sisi and they could experience it together... No. Finland was too close to Sweden, a place Chichang would associate with sadness.

After taking his crow-patterned mug of tea to the sofa and sipping it, William eventually fell asleep. It had been a rather exhausting day.

* * * * *

He awoke, forgetting why he had been on the sofa. Then he checked his watch. Quarter to nine! William scolded himself for napping so long - not really a nap, more like a coma. Now he would be up all night. But then he thought he could hear something in the background of the familiar buzz of the fridge. He tuned in his ears more. Yes, definitely something. Someone. He got up, and could now tell it was somebody laughing. Two voices, two people. Still dazed from his snooze, William made his way over to his bedroom.

He opened the door, and there was a man and a woman - in his bed - both naked (granted the duvet covered most of it). It was pretty obvious why they were emitting sounds of pleasure. William himself began to laugh. What a surreal situation! "I'll come back later," he chuckled.

No sooner had he left the room, shut the door and walked back to the kitchen, did he realise something was not quite right about this. He opened the door.

"....the hell?" William gasped.

Now that he had spoken, the couple turned their heads towards him, their faces the picture of horror. William's stomach lurched as he realised it was his girlfriend, Sisi... his girlfriend, and....

"MIKE FUCKING KEVINSON!" William roared. "Get out of my house, now! What are you doing? Who?... What?... Why?..... Just go -" he sank to his knees and pounded the floor, crying and crying.

By the time William had got up - after about five minutes - the only people left in the room were he and Sisi, who was now wearing a dressing gown and sitting on the bed. Mike Kevinson had apparently disappeared silently

"Why, Sisi? Why did you do it? Why did you lie?"

"I'm sorry, William. You're a guy who's been through a lot. I couldn't hurt your feelings like that."

"What, so you get... this guy who I've looked up to, who saved my life, who disappeared on me... and in my own bed? What the hell is wrong with you?" William picked up a stool, and threw it through the window. It smashed, and Sisi cowered.

"Get out. Find your own place to live, you whore."

Tears started rolling down Sisi's face. "You know I've got nowhe-"

"Didn't you hear me? GET OUT!"

Vexation: Suspicious minds

When William next awoke, he could smell soap and plastic dinners. The smell of the ill.

He was in hospital, and this gave him considerably less freedom.

"Good morning, William," whispered a familiar voice. With pain, William mustered up strength to turn his neck, then he saw it was none other than Mike Kevinson.

"W-what? Why are you here? Where have you been?"

"On vacation in Thailand."

"Okay."

"What happened, then? How did you get here?"

"I don't know," said William, sounding somewhat irritated.

"The truth, please?"

"Look, Mike" - William dared to use the first name of his interrogator - "can't you see that I'm in a fragile state here? My best friend - my only friend at that - has just tragically died. Right next to me! I was there! It could have been me! It... it... it should have been me!" With that, William burst into tears, and vigorously pulled shut the curtain that went around his bed.

Mike Kevinson felt rather remorseful that he had approached this delicate matter so bluntly; for he himself knew bereavement well. From behind the curtain, he said, "I'm really sorry, William. Just tell me everything you know when you're ready, please." Then he walked off to the hospital canteen, to pursue a pretty nurse he had a-spied that morning.

* * *

A couple of days later, back at the police headquarters, Mike Kevinson was sitting in his office smoking a cigar just imported from Cuba by his high school classmate Esteban Fernandez, whilst playing tetris. Suddenly, he got a phonecall.

"Hello, Inspector Mike Kevinson speaking," he tried to sound as professional as possible whilst he lowered the volume on his computer, in order to mask the bleeps from the tetris game, and thus his procrastination.

"Kevinson, have you found out about William Xiu's involvement in that car accident?"

"Yes, I have. The boy says that he was talking about their plans to go into the city later that night, and that Chichang simply got distracted. He also mentioned some.... dark birds, that had congregated in the middle of the road."

"That's all? Sounds pretty legit to me."

"I'm not so sure. I can't fight the feeling that he is trying to hide something."

"Get over here, Kevinson." The chief constable put the phone down.

No sooner had Mike Kevinson reached the chief's office, than he realised he was going to have to do a lot of justification of himself.

"Now, I want to know exactly what it is that you've got against William. He has a flawless personal record, he's a quiet guy... look at this picture, he wouldn't hit a fly. Why is a man of your calibre being so asinine?" The chief referred to a internet news article photo of a grinning William, after having won a district chess championship.

"You seem to be forgetting, sir, that it is often the quiet ones," argued Mike Kevinson, looking at the photo doubtfully. "Even if William did not have malicious intentions, he could still be affected by concussion, or even a mild case of amnesia. I'm just not entirely convinced he's telling the whole truth."

A knock on the door. "Coffee!" said the jovial fat policeman - the same that had examined the case of Albert the bully's death with Mike Kevinson.

"Thanks!" said Mike with a nod.

"So... what's going on here?" the stout policeman asked.

"William Xiu. You know, the one who - "

"Oh yeah. The chief here was telling me about the new William case right now. He said he reckons you -" The chief's facial expression shot darts at him. "I mean.... man, can't you leave the poor boy alone?"

"Not everyone in this world is a fluffy cherub, you know," retorted Mike Kevinson, getting frustrated.

"That's enough," announced the chief, standing up. "I've simply had enough of your suspicions, Inspector Kevinson. You are mad. That is what I said. And do you know what else I'm going to say? You're suspended for six months. That's right. Now leave my office, leave this building, and take your cigars with you."

Chichang: Friendship is golden

"...make yourself comfortable," said Chichang. "Ever since I was young, I knew that painting was the only thing I wanted to do. It was a compulsion, in a way. If you don't believe me, check this out."

Chichang got up, and went over to his dorm's cupboard. From it, he pulled out a large, black folder. He unzipped it, and revealed a stack of what were obviously exquisite art pieces. He put one sheet out onto the table in front of them. William reached out his hand to pick of the shard of glass. To his disdain, he could not do it - for it was nothing but a painting.

"Wow," he gasped, "you weren't lying."

It was clear that Chichang was trying his utmost to remain modest, yet he could not help but let a slightly proud smirk escape.

"Why didn't you go to art school? Are you actually interested in Chinese History and Ornithology, more than following your talent?"

"I don't know, William. I really don't. How much more of my past are you willing to take in?"

"I've got all the time in the world, it's okay. I'll just get us some tea."

When William came back from the kitchen carrying two steaming cups - his balance perfect from his waitering days - Chichang was sitting at his desk, and quickly closed his laptop when he saw William. He indicated at the other chair, for him to sit on.

"So... I was applying for art school, at the end of last August. I wanted to have first priority for a place, and I'd begun to create a portfolio two years prior. And, well, at the same time, I met this amazing girl. Soraja." He flinched at the mention of her name. Then he opened up his laptop to reveal a picture of two people - a girl with the blondest hair and the whitest skin that William had ever seen, and a boy who looked exactly like Chichang, but with slightly shorter hair - with dazzling smiles of genuine happiness.

"She was from Sweden," Chichang added. "Her father was a famous architect, and moved the family to Taiwan, whilst he renovated our city."

"She has nice bone structure," commented William, then looked down quickly.

"Yeah? Well. Bone structure isn't much good when you're boyfriend's trying to get into a prestigious university, is it?" Chichang sounded bitter.

"How so?" asked William, who still hadn't latched onto the fact that they were about to go into sensitive territory, having never had any contact with the world of relationships himself.

"I was creating my portfolio and... I was spending far too much time with her. I know that now, in retrospect. As I did so, the quality of my work declined. My father told me that I wasn't good enough for art school. This made me so angry, because I knew I was capable, it was all I lived for, apart from Soraja. And at the time, I really thought I was putting my all into it. But that... man told me that I was hopeless, that I was wasting my time. I hated it, I felt lost, art was like my guiding light." Chichang gulped.

Luckily, William had realised by this time that his friend was struggling to tell him everything, so he did not attempt to force him to continue. But clearly, Chichang trusted him enough.

"I started to take it out on Soraja."

William was utterly taken aback. This seemingly pleasant boy, a violent woman-beater? He was lost for words.

"You know... I stole her father's money. Whenever I spent the night there, and the house was dark. He just left it laying around. And then Soraja would get blamed. I know it's terrible, but I've put it behind me now. All I ask is that you don't judge me."

"Okay, Chichang," he replied, with a deep breath. His main thought was one of relief, that he was glad Chichang had not been hitting his girlfriend. "But what happened? Did you get found out?"

"I had to confess eventually She was so hysterical that... that she freaking took an overdose, William. And now she's living back in Linköping. Far away from here, which is the best thing for everyone. I am so thankful that she recovered, but I don't dare contact her again. For one thing, her father would absolutely massacre me."

William bit his lip, and was unsure whether to put his arm around Chichang or not, in order to comfort him. He decided against it. Instead, he swore in Chinese, Japanese, and English. Then he proceeded to say one thing:

"If you don't mind me asking, what has all that got to do with the fact you're here?"

He knew, a few seconds afterwards, that that sentence must have sounded quite rude and hurtful, and he felt immediately remorseful.

However, Chichang appeared unfazed. "Well... after that debacle, and when I was at my lowest, I looked at my portfolio work and I could see that it really was mediocre since I had been with Soraja. I had failed myself, and my father too. Thus, I decided to erase that part of myself, and to spite him - "

"So, you took Chinese History with Ornithology? The most ridiculous course in the world?" asked William, grinning.

"Yeah. Exactly right!"

They both broke into progressive sniggers, spilling their tea in the process.

Of course William had already told Chichang of his life - at least, all he knew of it - and so they were both at an optimum level of friendship. William's happiness of finding someone with whom he could share both laughter and tears, was immense.

Arrest: William's brush with the gavel and block

With his new wages from his waiting job, William decided to treat himself to a lone shopping trip in Taipei.

In the bustling street - for it was nearing New Year - William passed a shop named "Soap 'n' Dope". It looked like quite a new establishment, and so William was naturally intrigued, since his trade had made him now quite the expert in business prospects. Upon entry, he was confronted by a pungence of cinnamon and oranges, and atmospheric panpipes music. William didn't know where to look, for the whole place was just so vivid, a mêlée of scents, flavours and colours.

What caught his eye was not the stack of beautiful - albeit terrifying - carved bird-shaped soaps, but the abominable price tags on them. Seven hundred Taiwanese dollars, for just one?!

After bumping into a grumbling old woman, hastily apologising, then hearing a clutter from above, he left the shop - but not before security alarms sounded.

William felt a twinge in his stomach when a guard grabbed him by the shoulders and said, "If you'd like to follow me, young man." William didn't like to at all, and he noticed the same old woman scrutinising him, and calling - presumably - the police.

In the small room at the back of the shop, William sat on a cold, hard chair, that reminded him of his changing-room schooldays.

"I hope you're pleased with yourself. What will your parents say?" snapped the old woman.

William's eyes welled up. This was the first time since his father died that his thoughts had even touched on the theme of parents in the conventional sense; it occurred to him that he had never even met his mother. Suddenly these thoughts became too much to bear. "I don't have any, you bitch," he replied spitefully.

The old woman, unmoved, continued, "Even so - it is not exactly a thing to be proud of, having this in your bag, without paying." With that, she pulled out a transparent plastic bag, half-filled with about five grams of pink glitter.

"What," asked William, dumbfounded, "is that?"

"Soapy Dope - the original. A kind of holy grail, if you will."

"Pardon?"

"You know what I mean. Five centuries old, held in the very hands of Da-Xia and Bohai. Why wouldn't a little pilferer like you want it? Its name cheapened, sold on the black market." She shuddered at this thought.

William was about to make another vain attempt at insisting against these accusations, when the door was flung wide open.

Inspector Mike Kevinson.

"What seems to be the problem here, Anming?"

"I've just apprehended a young thief."

When Mike's eyes fell upon William, he took the cigarette out of his mouth, and his eyes appeared to glow. "Hello William. In a spot of a bother yet again?"

Anming frowned. "You mean, he makes a regular habit of this?"

She was ignored.

"It would appear so," said William, shyly. He didn't care about this supposed crime anymore. He was now just very confused as to why Mike Kevinson happened to be in Taiwan, where he was.

"These accusations, Anming... you're absolutely sure it was William?"

"Yes. The scoundrel."

"May I look at your CCTV tapes?"

"Why?"

Mike deliberately breathed smoke into her direction. The smell of it clashed with the sweet overwhelming fumes of the stock. "Evidence..."

"Very well, then."

Mike Kevinson took the tape - recorded from half an hour ago - from the archives, and slotted it into the machine. After some fast-forwarding through a cartoon about what appeared to be green condom-shaped creatures, he found the approximate time. "Right, here we are."

From where he was sitting, William could not really tell what was going on on the tiny screen, so he just remained patiently. What he could see, however, was that Mike was watching it several times over. On the fourth time, he flinched, and just stared blankly at the wall until the tape was finished.

"Is everything okay, sir?" William still felt humbled in Mike Kevinson's presence, even though he himself was a man too, now.

"Yeah..." Mike didn't sound convincing at all. "Well - the good news is this. You're free to go, William. What is shown here, is that your apparent theft was merely an accident. You see, these Soapy Dopes" - he hushed his voice to a whisper - "which, by the way, are not at all authentic, and there is no evidence to prove the Da-Xia and Bohai story is more than a legend. None at all." He scratched his lip, looked away, then got out a cigarette from his leather jacket pocket. William was surprised to see that he was using a match to light it. After taking the first, liberating inhalation, Mike raised his voice to a regular tone again. "Anyway, these Soapy Dopes were hanging from the rafters of this establishment. The footage here indicates that a... a crow flew in here, knocking one of the bags off, and by pure... coincidence, fell into your bag."

William felt somewhat unnerved, that calm and collected Mike Kevinson seemed as if he was losing his cool. He was losing his status as a figurehead of confidence.

"What? The boy goes free?" Anming chirped up suddenly.

"Yes. No charges against him this time."

Inspection: A rather personal issue

William froze. Mike Kevinson! Surely he would help him out of this sticky situation?

"H-h-hello, sir," stuttered William. He was very nervous, and yet certain that he would be saved.

Mike was joined by two other policemen. One was short, bulky, and kept grunting under his breath. The other was tall and lanky.

"We need to check out your involvement in Albert's death," said Mike Kevinson, leading them all down the corridor. They took several flights of stairs in silence; Mike did not trust lifts. Finally - two of them out of breath - they reached William's dormitory.

Mike Kevinson already had a key for the room, a fact William already handled with great suspicion. "Right, we won't be long," he told William. The fat policeman gave a pig-like snigger, and the lanky one elbowed him in the gut.

They all entered the room. Mike Kevinson glanced around, from time to time puffing from his perpetual cigarette. His facial expression turned from amusement (William's anime posters) to disgust, as his eyes met the ground. William looked down too.

Next to a pile of science textbooks, lay a tousled heap of black feathers.

"Oh no... now I'm really in it..." thought William.

"Explain these, please, William," demanded Mike.

"I don't know, honestly, I'm sorry, I -"

"TELL THE TRUTH! DO AS I SAY!" Mike had suddenly discarded his cigarette, and in the midst of his fury, stomped it on the carpet.

William cowered in terror. "I really don't know, seriously, sir." By this point, he was covered in beads of sweat, wondering if he would be expelled for this unfair accusation, and then his life would get even worse. If that was indeed possible.

"Fine, forget it." Mike seemed resigned to the fact that William was not going to give him a satisfactory answer.

William breathed a sigh of relief. But just when he thought he could relax...

"Can we have a look at your diary?" Mike Kevinson asked. He kept his gaze fixed on William, and as he did so, he took a drag on his cigarette. It was not three seconds later, when he comically - and totally unconsciously - opened a small corner of his mouth to exhale.

Appalled, William cried, "No! that's personal!"

Mike gave a sneer. "Got something to hide, eh?"

"Nothing but the hormonal confessions of a teenage boy!"

"Confessions, eh?" Mike raised an eyebrow, and took another long drag.

"Aaaargh! I can't take this!" shrieked William. "Blame me if you so wish, but I guarantee that those stupid... feathers... will get you nowhere!" With that, he slammed the door and left, to the peaceful school gardens, where he could clear his mind.

"That went well," Mike Kevinson pondered aloud. "The boy's right. No evidence against him here."

"Yeah," agreed the lanky policeman.

"Uhhhhh," nodded the fat one, and his stomach gave a tremendous grumble.

High school: William is caught unawares

Finally, after a nine-year plight at the boarding school, William was relieved to go to high school, the place of dreams.

The Academy of Avernus was eager to accept William - his grades were flawless, because he had not had a social life. Moreover, he had received a scholarship, which was funded from his father's will.

Sitting on his own wooden desk in his first Japanese lesson, a language he knew he would enjoy for years to come, William felt contented until he suddenly smelled burning. He glanced around the room, but nobody else seemed to have clocked that apparently, somebody had left biscuits in the oven for too long.

"May I go to the toilet, sir?" William put his hand up, and asked meekly.

"Be hasty," replied the master.

Down the corridor, William followed the burning smell as best he could. He was led to the room where many chemicals for science lessons were stored. He did not yet realise that he was putting himself in a lot of danger. Pushing open the door, William found himself face to face with several bottles of liquid, labelled with the radioactive or skull symbols. And behind them, an inferno burned. The odour it gave off was such that it forced William to pull the front of his jumper over his nose and mouth. It was spreading quickly, and William jumped when a roof-beam fell off.

"Oh no..." it occurred to William that it would get very hard to escape this situation.

Alas! As bricks started falling, William made a dash for the door. He did not know whether to be surprised, horrified, or indifferent when he saw the same thing happen in the corridor. High-pitched fire alarms started to sound, and William ran. Students came pouring out of classroms, down the stairs, onto the schoolyard.

By the time William reached the schoolyard with the thousand-strong crowd, the school was already in ruins. The flock of crows fleeing through the billowing smoke created a dramatic contrast. However, he seemed to be the only one who had not grabbed their possessions in the rush. They had both their possessions and their lives; he had only the latter.

With no majestic school building, the headmaster announced that they would temporarily be using the former district leisure centre as a base for education.

William took his Japanese class in what was formerly a changing room. Needless to say, the subject did not excite him nearly as much. It was cold in there, and the benches were hard. Nobody at all was motivated. In fact, the most invigorating thing that happened that particular day, was the moment that Inspector Mike Kevinson first poked his head around the door.

He stood tall, well-built, in his early twenties, and dressed in black, under the doorway; an undeniably attractive man. His shiny dark hair was swept by the wind, and his face sharply cheekboned and stubbled. Between his fingers, he held a cigarette.

"Excuse me," quipped the school's stout headteacher, who had suddenly appeared behind this brooding hunk, "could you put that cigarette out, please? Health and safety regulations..."

Mike Kevinson ignored him.

Instead, he proceeded to walk forward and say, in - coincidentally - a Japanese accent, "an audience with William Xiu, please."

William, sitting on the bench shuddering with cold, began to tremble with fear. What on earth would this intimidatingly handsome man want with him, possibly the nerdiest high-school child in south-eastern China? Nervously, he got up from the cold, hard bench.

Outside the classroom, Mike Kevinson subjected him to an icy, long glare. William raised his eyebrows, and was then led to a room that had comfortable-looking chairs, but a decor lacking personality. They sat down.

After a silence of about one minute, William cried, "what do you want from me?!"

Mike Kevinson, whom nobody had noticed bin his cigarette, got a packet - Lucky Crows - out of his pocket, extracted a new one, and lit it.

"I want to ask you about what has just happened to your school."

William looked puzzled. "Erm... it burnt down, sir?"

"Well, obviously. This is what I meant. William, did you have anything to do with it?"

"No."

"Are you sure? You can tell me."

"I'm sure. With all due respect, sir, I want to resume class. I like Japanese a lot. I hope to visit Japan one day."

Mike Kevinson took a drag on his cigarette. He scratched the back of his neck, averting the gaze of his interrogee for a moment, then looked back at him with his expressive eyes. "It's nice there. You can probably already tell I'm Japanese. Grew up in Kyoto."

"Wow! Lucky!" William was filled with glee. Perhaps he could make friends with Mike, and he'd show him round Japan, it would be so cool, and -

Three short, sharp knocks at the door. It was the headmaster, holding a cup of tea. "Time's up,Inspector Kevinson."

"Alright. I've got all the information I need."

William smiled, thanked Mike Kevinson, then left. When the headmaster was certain that William was out of earshot, he hissed, "I thought I told you - no smoking on the school premises."

"Very well," said Mike Kevinson. With that, he dropped the still-red cigarette into the headmaster's cup of tea, and left.

School: A coming of age

The time had arrived, finally, for young William to be initated, for the first time, into the world of education. Bessie enrolled him at Relic of Shen Elementary School, for his father did not feel so inclined.

The first day - perhaps needless to say - was catastrophic. William was hotly anticipating his first sport lesson. In the garden, whenever he could muster up the energy, he had always been kicking a tatty, ancient football against the wall; it was lonely, though. He had always longed for a team-mate.

Getting changed was a strange affair. William locked himself in a cubicle, for he did not feel that he could face the judgemental eyes of his new peers. Despite the sizeable gap under the door, he felt his modesty was safe.

The boys lined up on the field, ready for teams to be chosen for softball. A teacher with a handlebar moustache picked the "Crow" team, and a wiser-looking man picked the "Bluebird" team. William eagerly hoped he would be chosen for the "Bluebirds".

In no time at all, there were just four people left, awaiting their destined team. William's hope faded quickly - and as he had feared, he was indeed the last to be chosen. And much worse, that he was induced into the "Crows".

The moustachioed teacher blew the whistle, and the softball game commenced. Despite the name, William, by the end of the match, did not consider it to be a very soft ball at all. His team's tabards were black... and yet, why did other black-tabard-wearing boys constantly deliberately aim at his head with the ball, or merely avoid passing the ball to him - their fellow team-mate! - at all? Particularly distinguishable was a bulky child with big cheeks and a dark monobrow.

"To me, school is already a place of woe," pondered William miserably, whilst he ate the bland school dinner - his best meal in months - at a table on his own.

"Oi!" a voice boomed reproachfully from behind where William was sitting. He turned around, and gulped slightly to find that it was the monobrowed boy from his own team.

"Did you want something?" William replied timidly.

"I did, yeah. And that happens to be your lunch money, sucker."

"I d-d-d-don't have any. All my lunch is r-right here."

Out of nowhere, two equally bulky children had joined the monobrowed child. They were sneering in a similarly menacing manner. William gulped.

"Let's get him, boys," the leader of the bullies said.

William's heart was pounding now. Everyone else in the canteen had seemingly disappeared within the space of one second. He had no possible defence plans. His only weapon was to run; or perhaps he was small and scrawny enough to slide under the table.

So with an abrupt slam to the floor, William went under the table, hoping this would put him at an advantage against the tall bullies; who had made a grab for him at the leader's command. He felt a tinge of glee as he crawled out from under the table, out of the trajectory of the bullies' punches.

Then he felt a tug at his foot. One of the shorter bullies, with ginger hair - rather an abnormality for a Chinese child - was standing on William's loose shoelace. He then proceeded to yank the shoe, which was two sizes too big, off his foot.

"Got it, Albert!" the red-haired boy waved the shoe in the air like a victory prize.

William was still lying on the ground, unable to believe this had happened on his very first day of school. He closed his eyes, and submitted a silent prayer to anyone, anything, that this would stop.

When he looked up, he saw his shoe dangling from a roof beam. He groaned

Then, he saw Bessie at the door.

"It's hometime, William," she said soothingly. "Why are you laying on the floor?"

"I don't know. All I know, is that I can't carry going to school. Let me go home. And please arrange for someone to help me get my shoe back."

Prophecy: For one moment, the story of Da-Xia

Sixteenth century, during the Ming dynasty. A girl, Da-Xia, is walking through the countryside of Jiangsu. The sun is out, but, but it is a rather cold day. She is enjoying nature. Out of the blue, she hears the chime of bells from the nearby village, and takes this as a sign that she needs to get back. Young women shouldn't be out in the wild on their own, after all. They should be helping their mothers make silk.

Da-Xia makes her way back to the village, the pathway surrounded by lychee trees. What beautiful fruits, she remarks in her head, admiring them as she walks along. But all of a sudden, something off catches Da-Xia's eye. A piece of...

"Paper?" she asks out loud. And it is hanging on the branch, dancing in the breeze. A low branch, at that. Who could resist?

Checking that nobody is watching her - for she, let us not forget, is a girl getting herself into many misadventures - the curious Da-Xia stands on her tiptoes, and lifts her hands up. She is quite surprised to find that the piece of paper was well within her reach. Not three seconds later was it firmly clasped in her warm hand. She opens up the little piece of paper - it had been folded into quarters. And on it were some strange-looking characters.

Da-Xia cannot read.

This meant she would need to ask her older brother, Bohai.

Back at the family home, after dinner, she took him to one side. "Hey, I need to ask you a favour."

"Anything, little sister."

"Could you tell me what this says?"
Bohai's face went blank. "Where did you get this from?"

"To tell you the truth... I found it."
"It could belong to somebody important, you know, and we will get in trouble if we get found out."

"Just don't tell Father, and we'll be fine." Da-Xia sighed. Not for the first time ever, she reflected upon the fact that her brother was intelligent - but often overly cautious.

"Very well." Bohai took a deep breath. "After the delicious consumption of this cookie, a fortune awaits. Depending on the beholder's actions, though. the consequences of this fate could be disastrous. At any given time, a boy of the name William will be born. True; many boys of the name William will be born. But this one is a rather different story. After it is realised that he is the William you have waited for, it will be far, far too late."

Both Da-Xia and Bohai had been so mesmerised by the words of this prophecy, that they had not even noticed that the pleasant spring day was now greying.

The sounds of all chirping birds had also disappeared.

All that was left was the shadow of a crow - which then landed at the feet of the siblings - looking up at them with a certain sense of the sinister.