Lilian and Yumiko, second-year university science students, longtime sweethearts, also known as the superheroines Solargirl and Feline, did not like vacations. Being superheroines, they had too great a sense of responsibility to enjoy resting. Every police siren and doom and gloom news story guilted them for taking time off. But they had learnt that just because you’re working doesn’t mean you’re helping.

In an involuntary microsleep, Solargirl had dropped a getaway car, swooping down to catch it just before the car and its passengers smooshed against the pavement. Feline, for her part, was more cranky than usual, and when she got cranky, criminals got broken bones. Their exhaustion made them a danger to themselves and society, their superhero team had told them. If the Maidens of Mercy spotted Solargirl or Feline doing any superheroing for the next week, they would treat the two like any other public menace. 

That’s how these two workaholics found themselves on a Wednesday afternoon lazing sullenly on their couch, in sports bras and sweatpants, watching the news.

The current item was on a protestor blockade of a proposed coal mine. If the mine went ahead, experts predicted it would set back the nation’s net-zero targets by years. What’s more, it had angered indigenous groups, as it required tearing through sacred land.

The news anchor interviewed one of the protestors, a young woman with pink hair and freckles. 

“It ‘takes time’ to decarbonise. No! It stops here.”

Solargirl lazily muttered, “You go, girl.”

The news item cut to a comment from the coal company CEO, a wrinkled man with jet black hair and white eyebrows.

“Me and my company are entirely sympathetic with the aims of these protestors. In the long-term, I mean. We are committed to decarbonisation and decolonisation. In the short to medium-term, however, we must make difficult choices.”

“Cunt,” said Feline. 

“Do you want to join the protest?” asked Solargirl.

“Yeah,” said Feline. “As supers?”

“The Maidens of Mercy said no superheroing,” said Solargirl.

“Fuck ‘em,” said Feline. “And do they want to be seen carting us away from a protest.”

Before either of them could get up, Solargirl’s phone started ringing. She stretched to fetch it from the coffee table. Who would call her without texting? Probably some scam.

“Incoming call from: Programming Teacher,” said the screen, and seeing those words, Solargirl’s world grew very quiet and cozy.

“Who is it?” asked Feline.

“It’s our favourite teacher…”

“What the fuck does that mean?” But the trigger phrase was already making Feline’s eyes lose focus. 

“It’s, like, our favourite teacher…” said Solargirl again, and she began to smile, and to giggle, as around thirty percent of her intelligence evaporated out her ears.

“Our favourite teacher…” Feline’s voice had raised an octave.

“Ms Darling!” said Sheepgirl.

“Ms Darling!” said Pussy-Cat.

The girls sat up straight on the couch.

“Go on,” said Pussy-Cat. “Answer it.” Ms Darling was a very busy woman. Neither Sheepgirl or Pussy-Cat would ever miss the privilege of Ms Darling calling them.

Sheepgirl set the phone to speaker mode.

“Good afternoon, Sheepgirl!” chirped Ms Darling. “And I hope Pussy-Cat is on the line too.”

“Yes, I am, Headmistress,” said Pussy-Cat.

“Perfect! I have a job for my two favourite students. Tell me, do you know anything about that little protest going on down by the new coal mine?”

“We saw it on the news,” said Sheepgirl.

“Bunch of crybaby college kids,” said Pussy-Cat.

“Bunch of brats,” said Sheepgirl. “It’s all blah-blah this… And, like, um… I didn’t really get what they were saying, but you don’t like it, Headmistress, and I remembered that.”

“I knew you two youngsters would have a sensible perspective,” said Ms Darling. “You two are going to disperse this little protest. Also, if possible, could you please… escort the pink-haired ringleader to my Academy. I have a feeling she’d be a promising student.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. 

The girls went to their bedroom closet. They pushed aside the hangars of civilian clothes, and opened the finger-print-locked hidden panel at the back. In the secret compartment were four superhero costumes, though at any given time, the girls could only perceive two costumes. 

When Lillian and Yumiko were Solargirl and Feline, they could see their original superhero costumes. Solargirl’s gold-coloured, legless, armless leotard, with knee-high white boots, and elbow-length white gloves. Feline’s full-body, navy-blue, leather ninja suit, with metal clawed gloves and pointed cat-ears on the helmet. 

Right now, Lily and Yumi could only see the costumes of Sheepgirl and Pussy-Cat.

Sheepgirl’s costume was made of a light, fluffy synthetic fabric. It looked like caramel-coloured wool, but it breathed in the heat, and it didn’t stink in the rain. Her costume was a wooly bikini top and bottom, with big, wooly boots and wooly gloves. To hide her identity, she wore a thick scarf over her mouth and nose.

Pussy-Cat’s costume was just a Japanese gym uniform, with tennis shoes and ankle socks, navy-blue bloomers that barely covered her buttocks, and a white T-shirt with her name (“PUSSY-CAT”) printed in marker pen over her bust. Of course, to complete the look, she wore costume-store cat-ears, and the bloomers had a hole in the back for the long cat tail she had plugged up her butt.

“Pussy,” said Sheepgirl.

“Sheep,” said Pussy-Cat.

“There are brats on the loose,” said Sheepgirl.

“And we’re the spanking,” said Pussy-Cat.

Sheepgirl opened the balcony of their flat, gripped Pussy-Cat under the armpits, and flew them both into the air. They’d be scattering the protestors in no time.

Since graduating from Darling Academy, Sheepgirl and Pussy-Cat had been the Punching Pawns of the Powerful. They were either the city’s newest superheroes or supervillains, depending on which newspaper you read. They’d already been body-guards for the former-supervillain-cum-mayor Countess Domina. They’d broken up a strike that had paralysed the state’s trade. And whenever they were asked, they would join Ms Darling to advertise her Academy to prospective clients… not that they could ever remember what they did in these advertising sessions…

And, when asked by newspapers or their superhero peers, what did Solargirl and Feline have to say about Sheepgirl and Pussy-Cat.

“Sheepgirl,” Solargirl had said to the Times. “She’s dumb as a sack of bricks, but she just parrots whatever the rightwing tabloids say.”

When Amazonia (the alien Amazon) asked Feline if she knew Pussy-Cat, Feline said, “What, ‘cause we’re both Japanese girls who dress like cats? I don’t even want to meet the boot-licking cunt.”

Not that it mattered what Solargirl and Feline thought of Sheepgirl and Pussy-Cat. Ms Darling knew that Solargirl and Feline would never get in the way of her favourite students.