Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sounds of gunshots filled the 221 appartement complex. The inhabitant of 221A, a woman in her fifties, dashed to the flat from which the gunshots sounded, fearing the worst.
As the door to 221C flung open, it revealed a teenage girl sitting in her armchair, the hand with which she was holding the gun dangling from the side.
"What's going on? Is everything alright?!" Cried out the old lady.
"Bored." Mumbled the girl in the armchair.
"Excuse me?" The woman asked, not able to make out what the teen had said.
"Bored!" The latter exclaimed once more, looking at the ceiling.
"But the gunshots!"
"Oh, that was me." The girl's gaze settled on the confused lady.
"You!?" The woman's eyes widened, "You...you killed someone!?"
"If you were more observant, you'd notice the holes in the wall." The teen rolled her eyes, "You're a new resident, I see."
"Yes, I moved in yesterday." The lady nodded, "...But how did you know?"
"I shoot at the wall a lot. If you were living here for at least a week, you wouldn't have rushed in like you did." The teen explained her reasoning.
"Oh. I'm Jane Fugal, by the way."
"Y/n L/n." The girl replied curtly.
---
A couple of days later, Y/n and Mrs. Hudson were sitting in the landlady's flat, drinking tea.
"How am I going to pay the bills if you're the only one living in the whole building?" Complained Mrs. Hudson.
"Get a new resident for 221A or 221B." Shrugged the teen.
"It's your fault that amicable lady moved out in the first place!"
"I did warn her." She said nonchalantly.
"Listen young lady, if you don't help me find a new resident, I'll put in on your rent." The landlady threatened.
The teen sighed, "Fine."
---
"Y/n? Y/n!" Mrs. Hudson speed-walked into 221C a week later, holding a piece of paper.
The latter groaned, "What?"
"I got a resident for 221B! A respectable young man by the name of Sherlock Holmes." The landlady explained happily.
"Congratulations." Y/n said without any enthusiasm. If anything, she didn't want to deal with explaining to another individual rushing into her flat that she was just firing at the wall because she was bored.
"We should celebrate with a nice dinner!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, already dreaming of all the fancy dishes.
"I'll rather not." The teen declined.
"What? But why? It's a great opportunity!"
"And too much socializing." Y/n added.
"Alright, I'll go without you." And with that, Mrs. Hudson walked off.
---
A few years afterwards, Y/n was once again sitting in her armchair, shooting at the wall. Suddenly hurrying steps were heard and, a second later, a middle aged man with sandy-white hair appeared in the doorway.
"What on earth is going on here!?" He shouted, covering his ears.
"You must be Sherlock's new flatmate." The girl now in her twenties said, turning to look at the newcomer.
