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No vacancy

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There's a rumor that 3A is a serial killer, and Ichigo would be miffed about it (really, what are the chances that there'd be two serial killers living in one building?), except that he's pretty sure she's a bad one.

It's an odd turn of events if he's being honest, but no less amusing.

(He should probably seriously consider the therapist Tatsuki keeps none too subtly recommending him. No normal person should be amused that their neighbor kills people.)

It isn't like its Ichigo's fault, though.

Watching her lug around a body is hilarious.

3A is short, a full head shorter than Ichigo himself, with a delicate frame and practically no muscle to speak of given the way her red sweater hangs mostly limp around her frame, provided shape only by the denim dungaree where the outline of something long and thin is present in the pocket of it. Likely the murder weapon, if he had to guess.

Maybe she killed them with a knife or a poker.

Seems a little violent and unexpected for someone that looks so…harmless; youthful, even with rounded apple cheeks and a constant pout shaping a rosebud mouth. But Ichigo knows that those serial killers are always the ones that slip in undetected – overlooked for their ability to look innocent.

Though he's going to be honest, they're usually not so…brazen.

The body she's lugging around looks heavy, and it's covered in black plastic bags, legs and ankles taped together with brown scotch tape.

She couldn't have made it more obvious if she tried.

Which automatically makes it suspicious because as unassuming as she appears – she's standing in the elevator with a body dressed for disposal at her feet – and 2B looks about ready to pass out, she's even squished herself near Ichigo, which is definitely a strange turn of events considering she used to live in 3A before she took the apartment directly below his.

He thinks the girl's name is Momo, but he doesn't really care.

Current 3A is much more interesting of a neighbor.

He overheard her using a rotozip yesterday, and 3D didn't even barge into her loft to complain about it.

Ichigo almost regrets not sticking around the other day to eavesdrop on 3D's "welcome to the building, beware 3B" speech because clearly, it did not go the way she expected it to.

And it's not like he wants to be impressed, but that doesn't change the fact that he is.

Or that he's curious, because while listening to her using a rotozip yesterday had provided him with the equivalent of white noise to drown out his own annoying thoughts to reach Tatsuki's word count for the day, he can't shake the question of what she was using it for if not to (loudly) dismember her victim.

So, he asks, "What'd you do with the rotozip yesterday?"

"Oh." She blinks, reddening a little in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were home. I wouldn't have done it if I'd known you were around. Please don't complain to Urahara, I won't bring my work home with me again."

Seriously, she thinks he's concerned about a noise complaint?

He grunts, impatient. "Whatever." Though, with the way Momo shrinks further, biting her lip to suppress her whimper, Ichigo would bet she has feelings to the contrary.

"I was doing the other one," 3A eventually says, her momentarily awkwardness giving way to her frustration, and Ichigo isn't surprised except he is because she really might be a serial killer, holy shit. "I was going to do this one too, but I'm experimenting."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," she says with a careless shrug and a slight smile, "you know what they say, more than one way to skin a cat."

Which is when the elevator doors open, Momo stumbling out before outright fleeing, only to almost trip over Kon as he saunters in.

Though 3A is startled by Momo's exit, her attention is diverted quickly by the cat. "There you are," she greets, stooping down to pet Kon's head with a coo of, "I'm sorry kitty, I have to go to work now."

And though Kon clearly disagrees with this, rubbing himself between 3A's knees and purring loudly, she resolutely rubs between his ears once more before turning to grab her victim, dragging them just far enough that the elevator doors won't close on her, and then huffing, dark brown hair fluttering over her forehead, and then cocking a brow at him. "Can I help you?"

"What?"

"I'm not blocking the door," she points out, then pauses and rolls her eyes. "I know it looks ridiculous, but if you aren't going to be a gentleman and offer to help, you don't need to stare."

"Maybe you should've thought of that before you decided to drag a body down to the lobby," he returns. "You do know we have a garbage disposal that goes straight into the basement, right?"

Baffled, 3A asks, "Why would I want to throw away my art?"

Art, he thinks, mentally repeating the world like his brain is stuck on a loop, before he decides, "Someone has a high opinion of their crimes."

And then for, apparently the first time, 3A looks down at the body, and with growing horror, she goes, "Oh, my god, no."

He raises a brow and replies, "Yes."

When she only continues to stare, like she wasn't even aware she'd been doing what she's been doing, he says, "Is this an 'I didn't know I was a serial killer'; body snatching or multiple personality stitch or…"

She still doesn't reply, before, pointing at him, "I'm not a serial killer, you are."

"The only people I kill are fictional," Ichigo deadpans, looking more pointedly down at the body she just left lying on across the door of the elevator. "You, on the hand."

Her mouth opens and closes wordlessly before, her eyes narrow in realization. "You dick, you did that on purpose."

"Did I?" he asks all innocence.

"It's not, it's not a body, body," she says, curiously in a whisper like she's embarrassed all over again. "It's for work, a project, it's -"

"A mannequin," Ichigo guesses.

That would fit. It's proportional to a human, close enough anatomically. Though, now that he's really paying attention, the body's too rigid, and once putrefaction sets in, a corpse is a lot squishier, and also, smellier.

"No," 3A says, offended, and then she's reaching over to part the black bags at the face and it's – it's a person, certainly, no one he knows – unfortunately – the features aren't particularly memorable, he can't even tell if it's meant to be male or female, its features androgynous in nature with some pretty extreme detail, Ichigo could count the individual hairs that make up the person's eyebrows if he wanted to.

"That is uncannily lifelike."

She huffs. "Thank you. It took almost an entire week." Then, she's muttering, "A mannequin, seriously?"

"Oi, like I could've known it was anything else," Ichigo argues, "it's – you're carrying it around like you're preparing to dump it in the river."

"Is that where you get rid of yours?" she asks sweetly.

"Hah-hah," he deadpans.

"For your information, it's clay. And it's heavy, so."

"You didn't think through possible transport options," Ichigo asks, brow cocked in disapproval. "That's just irresponsible."

At that, 3A crosses her arms with a huff. "Yes, I know. In my defense, I'm used to having people do this for me."

He holds his hands up. "Excuse me, Ms. Murder."

Rolling her eyes, she asks, "Are you done?"

When he makes an 'eh' expression, she huffs again and goes back to dragging the body out of the elevator, Ichigo following after at a leisurely pace.

He doesn't know how she got from one end of the passage to another without going red in the face, though the answer to that is she didn't. 3A gets halfway across the lobby, huffing and sweating a little before she stops, scowling at him.

"You're enjoying this."

"I'm amused," he admits.

Resting her model? sculpture? against her leg, she narrows her eyes. "You're going to make me ask?"

"It would be polite and neighborly," he graciously allows, and in the face of his assholery, 3A only exhales heavily before conceding defeat, "Please could you -"

"No."

She goes right back to scowling. "You're such a dick."

Ichigo shrugs, letting the door swing closed behind him.

He can live with there two would-be serial killers in the building, god knows if everyone else will.