Following the instructions of his dear brother, Kenchiki had happily beat the crap out of the man and now stood by to watch as his brother played hero for him. He expected that although his brother had to postpone moving into the manor with him, he would at least come to visit or even call, to at least tell him he did a good job. But it has been many days and yet no call, text, or visit. He felt absolutely miserable. He felt like a used toy that was thrown aside as soon as interest in it was lost.
He glared at his phone, telling it to ring with his eyes, and he sat there as the hours passed by. He sighed in defeat after three hours and the phone didn't so much as light up. He angrily threw it against the wall. Kenchiki pulled open his desk drawer and dug through two of them before he found what he was looking for. Ripped the packet open, removed a cigarette, and took the lighter from his jacket pocket. He quit a couple of years ago and hasn't smoke
