3 MISA
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Misa took her cell phone from her bag, at the same time checking that she had placed her clothes inside. She tugged at the sides of her uniform, which was a bit tight. As usual, the sight of the bag and clothes depressed her. "I sank so low, back there," she thought, "I was nothing more than a common thief."
The razing of her father's house had left her quite destitute. Sasakawa-san had given her some money for clothes and toiletries, but the old lady was poor, and Misa would only take a minimal amount from her. She had tried to find out what disaster relief she could claim – insurance from her father's house or grants from the government, but these took time to process and with everyone in the village against her, she had wanted to leave as soon as possible. She had stolen all the other things she needed – a suitcase, more clothes, and school books. It had been easy enough for her to phase in and out of the shops in the middle of the night, and take what she wanted.
She tried to tell herself that she was merely claiming payment, since she had not been paid a cent for all the hero work she had done over the years; but deep down inside, she felt ashamed.
When she left Iideyama, she had decided that she was done with hero work.
"I'll get a normal job," she said to herself, "being a hero has been nothing but misery."
However, she had never passed her high school exams. Her plan was to find some temporary work, enough to pay for her to retake the exams, and then somehow continue working and put herself through university. But she had discovered that temporary jobs paid little, barely enough to pay for her rent and other necessities.
On her way to work that morning, she had begun considering returning to hero work.
"It's all I know how to do," she thought, drearily. How fortunate it was, though, that she still had her hero licence; it had been in her wallet with her on the night of the massacre.
She fingered the phone. "I should be working," she thought, "but maybe I can just spend a few minutes surfing the net to see where the nearest hero agencies are."
A sharp smack suddenly sent the phone spinning to the floor. Misa cried out, and then a hand was grasping her left ear in a vicelike grip. It was Yazawa-san, the café manager.
"Why are you idling?" she snapped, "you should be working!" She released Misa's ear, and picked the phone up.
"No, give it to me!" cried Misa, darting forward. But Yazawa-san was locking the phone in a drawer. In went the key into her pocket.
"Get to work," she said angrily, "if you work properly today, you might get it back later."
Misa drew a deep breath. She had been in the wrong, after all. She bowed to the woman.
"Yes, Yazawa-san. I apologize," she murmured.
She picked a tray up, and went outside to serve the customers. Once Yazawa-san had left the kitchen, though, she went over to the drawer when no one was looking, phased her hand through it, and took the phone out.
"I can't lose this phone," she thought. It contained photos of Hideo; all that she had left of him.
She found herself serving beer to a group of four men, the kind of customer she dreaded the most. They were becoming drunk and were rowdy, especially a short, squat, tubby one with a moustache, whose hands tended to wander to places they shouldn't. As she was placing the beer on the table, she felt something pinch her in the behind.
"What! – " she gasped. The men roared with laughter.
Misa went white with anger. She seized the man's hand, phased it into the dining table, and left it there.
"Fujiyama!" shouted the man, tugging at his hand. "My hand! You witch! Take my hand out!"
Yazawa-san had come over. She glared at Misa.
"Did you do that?" she snapped.
"He groped me," said Misa angrily.
"Take his hand out at once!" barked Yazawa-san.
Misa went red. She pulled the man's hand out of the table. The men began jeering at her.
Shinsou was seated at a table nearby, watching.
Yazawa-san began bowing and apologizing profusely to the men. "I'll get another waitress to serve you," she told them.
"No, no, we want her!" the men shouted, pointing at Misa.
Yazawa-san turned and, glaring at Misa, gestured angrily at her to continue serving them.
The men proceeded to make as much trouble as they could for her, purposely dropping food on the floor, spilling their drinks and shouting at Misa to serve them.
At one point, Misa came over to Shinsou's table to remove his empty plate.
"Waitress, clean this up!"
Misa turned to look. The tubby man had picked up a sauce bottle, and was squirting sauce copiously under his chair.
Misa turned back, and closed her eyes as if to shut the sight out. "Oh, why was I born," she said, despairingly.
She opened her eyes, and saw Shinsou looking at her with an amused glint in his eye. Taking his plate, she stalked off to the kitchen to get a cloth.
"Waitress, hurry up!"
She brought the cloth out. The tubby man gave her an oily smile.
"Oh, I can't move my chair," he yelped happily. "You'll have to reach under to clean it!"
Misa began wiping up the sauce. The man suddenly farted loudly, and she cringed in disgust.
The man had not tucked the ends of his shirt into his pants. Positioning herself so that no one could see what she was doing, Misa continued slowly wiping the sauce up with one hand. She carefully phased the other hand through the seat of his chair and pulled the shirt ends into it. Then even more carefully, she gently eased parts of the seat of his pants into the chair. Finally, she phased the legs of the chair about an inch or so into the floor of the café.
She finished cleaning the sauce up, and hurried back into the kitchen.
The man wanted to go to the washroom. He tried to push his chair back, but it was now anchored to the ground. Then he tried rising to his feet, but something was holding him down. Finally, he heaved himself up.
There was a loud, ripping noise as the man's shirt and pants tore. The man uttered a roar of fright and tried desperately to cover himself, while the other customers in the café screamed in a mixture of delight and horror at the sight of his undergarments.
The café was in an uproar. Yazawa-san came running out of the kitchen, and seeing the spectacle, went back in and dragged Misa out.
"You're fired," she said, her voice shaking with rage, "This will be your last day. Don't come back tomorrow."
She hastened over to pacify the men, but paused to shout at Misa, "Don't go off shift this afternoon! You'll stay until tonight for no extra pay! Fumiko has called in sick!"
Misa looked at her, her face expressionless. She happened to glance in Shinsou's direction, and saw that he was looking at her. She turned, and went back into the kitchen.
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