Disclaimer: Still not Ryohgo Narita. Still not Shinta Fujimoto.

Warnings: Murder, suicidal thoughts, weird semi-romantic vibes.

Right.

So this boy, this Polka Shinoyama? He was a total innocent, right. Nothing like the criminals and assassins who were Zaki's normal victims up to now. She didn't know why the client wanted him dead, and she didn't care any more than when she was hired to kill someone who probably deserved it.

He was just some dumb high school kid. There was no way he could have done something to make someone so mad they'd want him dead on his own account. Not at this point in his life.

Of course, Misaki was in high school too, but she didn't think there were many teenagers like her.

That was the whole point, that he was supposed to be innocent. Misaki was tired of killing people who probably deserved it. She wanted to kill someone who didn't and see if it made any difference.

So this was gonna be a good day. She just knew it. She woke up this morning with an extra bounce in her step. She grinned at her reflection in the mirror as she braided her hair and put on her makeup.

Okay, ready.

She skipped out of her apartment building before calling Kurupon. "So, you got my guy?"

"Yeah, i got 'im," Kurupon replied.

"Cool, where do i go?" Misaki was so ready to rock her world today. If this boy wasn't what she had been hoping for, she didn't know what she'd do.

Kurupon directed her towards the scramble, out in the busiest part of Shinjuku. She'd have to do something about that. It would never do to kill him in front of so many civvies – unless it would.

Misaki gave the idea due consideration on her way over. It would be a memorable experience, for sure, but she didn't think it would transform her and help her out of this slump. It would just put the cops on her tail and make Clarissa mad at her. No thanks.

The mark was just wandering around, like a kid with no goal in particular, but Kurupon had eyes on him and kept Misaki in the loop, so she had no trouble catching up to him.

And then, there he was. The boy she was looking for. Polka Shinoyama.

Misaki grinned.

He was walking along, down the street towards her, eyes on his phone with just enough awareness of his surrounding not to crash into any of the other pedestrians on this busy street. Just one of a million ordinary teenagers in this city.

He was perfect.

Time for Misaki to make her move.

She bounced right up to him. "Hi!" she said. "Do you have a minute?"

The boy had a cute face, in a bland sort of way. Maybe in another life she'd have wanted to date him.

Ha, as if.

It was so easy to lure him into going off alone with her. He blushed and stammered, as flexible as a garrote in her hands, and all Misaki'd really had to do was cock her hip.

Just to be safe, she took his hand to lead him off. His hand was soft, and warm, and maybe the feel of it made Misaki feel a little bad about what she was doing. Not because he was soft and innocent and alive, but . . . Misaki almost wished she could be like that too.

But she wasn't like that, and she couldn't be anymore, so she just had to do her best to make her life exciting, right? Misaki just wanted to feel something new, like she'd never felt before, and maybe then she wouldn't feel like she was missing something. That was all she wanted now.

And if anyone could give it to her, it was Polka Shinoyama.

"You know, i kinda feel like i've been waiting all my life for this," she chatted to him as they walked.

"R-really?" Polka Shinoyama stumbled. Misaki spun around to catch his other hand, feeling the weight of her crowbar pulling at her sweater. "You oaky?" she asked.

Up close, his eyes were a really pretty shade of blue. Misaki wondered if he could see into her eyes, to what kind of a person she was. The thought gave her a cold pit in her stomach, and she let go of him, turning away. Let him try to look through her now.

"Yeah, thanks." He didn't sound like he suspected anything. Was he really that naïve? Clarissa would totally have been onto her by now.

No, scratch that. If she were to try and kill Clarissa, Misaki would already have failed and been strung up.

"So, um, what was it you wanted?" Polka asked. Misaki looked back at him, one hand slipping behind her into her sweater. Her fingers found the reassuringly cool metal of her crowbar.

"Oh, just the culmination of everything my life has led up to so far." Her hand tightened on the grip, and she drew it out, grinning. "Just this!" She swung.

The hooks on her crowbar that she specially kept sharp for killing sliced right through his throat. Blood sprayed out as he crumpled to the ground.

Misaki watched him fall.

Well, that sucked. She'd killed him, cut his throat and everything, and what did it matter? It was just some kid, and it turned out "just some kid" wasn't really any different from "just some thug."

Misaki turned away from his body, frustrated. Surely there was someone she couldn't kill, or whose death made her feel something. But who else was there?

Then she got it. Misaki's eyes lit up. There was one person she could kill who had to make a difference.

So it was gonna be a good day after all. If she killed herself, that would just change everything.

A/N: I think i lost the original thread of this one after Sayo showed up (which goes to show how long this has been sitting unfinished in my drafts), but i wanted to post as many DMDP fics as possible before the anime comes out, in case it brings new people into the fandom. Misaki's POV was super fun to write.