Tokyo, Scene 1: A man is waiting patiently for a bus in Roppongi, thinking about nothing, minding his own business. Suddenly, out of a clear blue sky, a bomber-shaped bird watching from atop an adjacent building delivers its payload. Splat! Dabbing at the white mess dripping down his jacket, the victim sheepishly departs.
Tokyo, Scene 2: A bleak midwinter's day in the garden of the Institute for Nature Study (National Science Museum) in Shirokanedai. Shades of Edgar Allan Poe. Gray, leafless branches, a thin drizzle falling, pond surfaces cold as steel. No sound but the beat and swish of heavy wings and the lugubrious "kyaa, kyaa" of hundreds and hundreds of crows.
Tokyo, Scene 3: Early morning, Akasaka. A national holiday. Alfred Hitchcock would have loved this. Restaurant garbage bags are piled up and, in some cases, spilling their contents. Few people are about yet, so the street has been commandeered by avian yakuza -- enormous black crows milling, pecking, strutting and feasting undisturbed. A full-grown cat no bigger than they are crouches in a doorway, smart enough to know who's boss.