A New Start

FRANCE 08:45

Kaji is standing in front of his bedroom mirror, shirtless, putting on his usual shining accessoires. Necklaces, rings, bracelets and his earring. Kaji has a big collection of beautiful things, things that are completely materialistic in value, and none of those are obtained legally. Many of these accessories were stolen items that were not accepted by Sir Clermont for resale. Some people from The Crypte Clan also come to the auctions (which they organize as a fence for stolen things).

Kaji sighs and walks up to his closet. It took him less than 4 seconds to choose his attire for today. Quickly he wriggles into his pearly-white shirt and rushes to close the buttons. The rest of the clothing & his other belongings are thrown forcefully into the two empty bags he had laid out beforehand. 

“I guess I’m leaving France…” Kaji whispers to himself 

“I haven’t been outside of France in 8 or 9 years… not even for a vacation. Now that I think about it, HOW WILL I EVEN UNDERSTAND MR. PETER???!!”

Kaji picks up his bags and rushes down the stairs of his apartment complex. Bogart was already waiting outside in his car, spam-texting Kaji to hurry up.

Kaji didn’t live luxuriously; he never did. His luxury was over-the-top drinks and shiny collectables. Even the food he ate was basic, the shows he watched on his crappy television were too.. basic. All of it was just ’normal’. There was no place for anything else than his job, and having something normal waiting for you at home can sometimes keep you sane.

As Kaji steps outside, the morning rays danced on his long, dark brown hair. Some of his curls are still wild from sleeping. Bogart pushes open the door to the car from the inside, insinuating that he has to get in. Kaji throws his bags on the back-seats and sits next to the irritated Bogart. “Tssk, why do you never answer your phone?” Bogart snarls as he starts the car. Kaji ignores him, staring at the apartment-complex, lost in thought.

And they drove off, from France to Belgium, and from Belgium to the Netherlands. The car-drive was long and tedious. A 7 hour drive with nothing but the same songs being repeated on the radio. It was a wonder that Bogart never felt tired during this trip; not even once did he ask Kaji to take over the wheel.