by Lisa Yee
“What do you have to say for yourself?” she asked.
“I want to go home,” Croc groaned.
“Too bad,” Batgirl told him. “Because you’re going to jail. Pow!”
On the other side of the café, King Shark was nursing a huge bump on the side of his head from where the table had hit him. “So sorry about that,” Supergirl said.
Cyborg swept in as King Shark bared his sharp white teeth and lunged toward Supergirl. She flew out of his way just as he chomped down, biting Cyborg’s metal arm instead of her.
Everyone in the room winced. That had to hurt.
“Please don’t dent the metal,” Cyborg said unflappably. “I was just buffed and polished.”
As King Shark rubbed his aching jaw, Frost froze the brute to the jukebox, and Beast Boy turned into a polar bear and stood guard.
“You two villains picked the wrong place to rob,” Cheetah said as she watched Wonder Woman work the room, making sure everyone was okay. She whipped out her phone and dialed 911. “Cheetah here. Yes, that Cheetah. I’m reporting an attempted robbery.”
Before Cheetah hung up, the sounds of sirens blaring filled the air. Commissioner Gordon burst through the door, backed by Captain Maggie Sawyer and what looked like every single officer in Metropolis’s Special Crimes Unit. He nodded to Batgirl and the others.
“Good work, Supers,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” Beast Boy said, motioning to his fellow students. “Let’s give everyone a round of applause!”
As the room erupted in cheers, Commissioner Gordon cuffed Croc and King Shark using mega-strength restraints his daughter, Barbara Gordon—and secretly Batgirl—had designed for the SCU.
“I’ll be back!” King Shark threatened.
“Not if we have anything to say about it,” Katana said.
Before he was out the door, Commissioner Gordon turned around and said, “The Metropolis Special Crimes Unit thanks you. We’ve been after this duo for weeks!”
The Supers smiled. It was always nice to hear praise, especially from a teacher who also happened to be a police commissioner.
“Everyone, be aware. Be safe. Be the best you can be,” he said.
Katana looked at Wonder Woman, who was comforting a shaken Steve Trevor. “Thanks, Wonder Woman.” He stood up. “Thanks to all the super heroes who captured the criminals, and to everyone at Capes and Cowls who didn’t panic. Smoothies and carrot cake are on the house!”
The café was filled with chatter and laughter. Everyone was rehashing what had just happened—elaborating and embellishing their roles in the capture of the two wanted criminals. Wonder Woman and Supergirl had volunteered to help Steve serve the food to everyone, and what would have taken him an hour in multiple trips took only minutes with their help.
Katana sat back and nibbled on her carrot cake, content just to observe the crowd. Big Barda was being thanked by some of the restaurant’s patrons. They seemed to be particularly impressed with her use of the Mega Rod. Though Barda looked uncomfortable with the praise, Katana could see that she was secretly pleased.
Batgirl was showing Arrowette her new tear gas, already talking about ways to increase its potency. “You never know when you’re going to face reptile men in this town,” she said, and Arrowette nodded in agreement.
Beast Boy was holding court in the middle of the room, asking if anyone wanted him to autograph their menu.
“This was an amazing show of teamwork,” Lois Lane, teen reporter, said as she recorded the news flash for the Daily Planet site. “When it comes to saving lives, the teens from Super Hero High know what they’re doing!”
Did she know what she was doing? Katana wondered. She wasn’t even sure of what was going on in her own life. There was so much to think about. Some critters or something, who appeared harmless other than the constant and ever-growing distraction they caused, were following her around school. One hundred swords had found their way to her—or was it vice versa? And Katana could not get over the news of how her grandmother had perished. Who would want to do away with Onna, and why? Why?
“As super heroes,” her grandmother once told a young Katana, “our hours are not our own.”
“But why do you always have to leave me?” Katana had asked, pouting.
“I always come back,” Onna assured her. “I am always with you.”
“More cake?” Steve asked.
“Huh?” Katana shook her head, surprised to find herself still at Capes & Cowls.
“Sure, okay,” a voice said across from her.
Katana noticed the empty plate. Miss Martian was now sitting at the table. “Thank you,” she said to Steve. The alien took a big bite and smiled at Katana.
Katana smiled back. “You helped capture the criminals, didn’t you?” she said.
Miss Martian nodded. “I merely read their minds and knew what their next moves would be, then whispered them to some of the Supers.”
“The sign,” Katana said as it dawned on her. “You pointed me toward the sign that I used to disable Croc.”
When Miss Martian smiled, Katana knew she was right. She looked at Beast Boy and the others, who were still celebrating. “Why don’t you take a bow?” she said.
Miss Martian shook her head. “Being a Super isn’t about the glory,” she replied. “It’s about being able to help.”
Katana gave her friend a hug. That sounded like something Onna would have said. She felt warmed by the memory of her grandmother, and smiled.
t’s more of a bother than a crisis,” Katana was saying. They were talking about the critters or the whatevers that seemed smitten with her.
Katana liked what Poison Ivy was wearing that day—colorful layers of chiffon that swayed as she walked and, as always, flowers in her flowing red hair. Katana preferred sleek, bold lines and functional black. Her grandmother’s Samurai costume was like that. Though it was ornate and detailed, it conveyed strength and function.
Onna used to let Katana try on her uniform. The first time, she laughed at little Katana buried under the size and weight of the Samurai armor. It was so heavy she couldn’t stand and fell over on her back, and her grandmother had to help her up.
“One day,” Onna had said to an embarrassed and sobbing Katana, “you will be big and strong enough to wear this.”
“But that is a long way off,” a voice had said. Both looked up, surprised to see Katana’s father standing in the doorway. “And besides, there’s still a chance Katana will take after her mother and me and become a teacher.”
Onna gave him a slight nod. “There are many ways to be a teacher,” she had reminded her son-in-law. “Katana must follow her heart, as I did, and as her mother did, and as you did.”
“Fair enough,” her father had said before leaving. He nodded, but looked troubled.
“So we were thinking of a way to capture the critters,” Bumblebee was saying. She was flying alongside Katana and Poison Ivy as they headed to Centennial Park to brainstorm. The expansive park was filled with citizens of Metropolis and students from the nearby schools. Beast Boy was visiting his friends at the zoo. Frost was freezing the lake so people could ice-skate, despite the warm weather. Picnic blankets quilted the ground as Frisbee players leapt over them, and Supers flew above.
“This looks like a good spot,” Poison Ivy said. She unfurled her blanket as Bumblebee opened the wicker basket filled with sandwiches, cheeses, fruit, and, of course, honey.
“I’m thinking that the traps Beast Boy and the others have set are scaring away the critters,” Bumblebee said as she poured a generous amount of honey over a thick slice of freshly baked bread from Butterwood’s Bakery.
Katana had wondered about that herself.
“Maybe the critters are just shy,” Poison Ivy said. She handed a cantaloupe and a honeydew melon to Katana, who tossed them in the air. She sliced the melons open and then carved them into bite-sized stars, crescent moons, and other shapes as Bumblebee held out a bowl and caught the
m. Poison Ivy added grapes to make the fruit salad and set aside the melon rinds for her organic garden’s compost heap.
“So instead of scaring them away, what if we make a cozy, friendly place for the critters?” Poison Ivy said.
Bumblebee nodded and added even more honey to her bread. She took a bite, then said, “They have given us no indication that they aim to harm us. And it seems like they are quite taken with you, Katana. We think that if you are more welcoming, instead of always running away from them, maybe they will reveal themselves. They might be Kryptomites or Parademons, or something else entirely, but we won’t know unless we stop guessing and start being proactive.”
“We really do need to do something about them,” Poison Ivy added. “You should have seen Vice Principal Grodd. He just got back from his annual vacation in Gorilla City and was all chill, until he heard the sounds of the critters running around. Then he instantly got back to his usual tense self! He’s so wound up, Grodd’s been passing out detention slips for Supers being too quiet. He would rather put up with our noise than hear the sounds of the critters.”
Katana had seen the effects the creatures had been having. Though they were small and most likely harmless, it was like when there was a renegade fruit fly in the room and that was all you could pay attention to. Just that morning in Flyers’ Ed, there had been a midair collision when Supergirl’s super-hearing keyed in on the critters rather than teacher Red Tornado.
Katana bit into a butterfly-shaped piece of honeydew melon. It was sweet and juicy and as good as any candy she had ever eaten. She thought about her friends’ suggestion. It had not occurred to her to face the critters. But why not? What did she have to lose?
The next day in Ms. Moone’s art class, Katana listened for the familiar sound of the creatures. But instead, all she heard was the teacher talking about art imitating life—or was it the other way around?
“There is art all around us,” June Moone was saying as she weaved her way around the big tables where the Supers sat. She lifted her hoodie off her head. Katana admired the emerald barrette in her hair. “Yes, art is in sculpture, paintings, music, and more,” her teacher continued. “But the way you approach battle, the way you fight for justice and save lives, there is an art to that, too. For today’s assignment, I want you all to think about how your life informs your art and vice versa. Then we will meet in small groups and discuss.”
It reminded Katana of Dr. Arkham’s Family Business meetings. Though the weekly sessions had been helpful and made her feel better, they weren’t helping her solve the mystery of the swords or the sounds. “You need to identify and address that which causes you stress,” Dr. Arkham had recently told the group.
Katana was perplexed. Why the swords? What were the sounds? How could she address her stress if she didn’t even know what it was?
The critters had stopped following Katana. Did they know she was going to try to engage them? As she walked down the corridors, she listened but heard nothing. Katana actually started to miss the familiar clicking noises.
There was a sign outside the gym. It read: FENCING TEAM CAPTAIN TRYOUTS. Katana pushed open the door. Cyborg, Arrowette, and Lady Shiva all looked up at her.
“Uh-oh, this tryout just got ramped up by one hundred,” Cyborg said, nodding to Katana.
“I’m still game,” Lady Shiva said, standing and stretching.
“Let’s do this,” Arrowette said. “Best of luck to everyone.”
Katana surveyed her competitors, making a note of each one’s special skills. “Yes, good luck, everyone,” she said, and she meant it. Though she badly wanted to be team captain, Katana also wanted to earn the spot.
The competition was fierce. Things like this usually were with the Supers. But in the end, even though Arrowette had deadly accurate aim, Lady Shiva had all the right moves, and Cyborg had the skills and strength, it was Katana who was clearly the best person for the job. She embodied everything her peers did, and more.
“Congratulations, Katana,” Wildcat said. The others tried to look thrilled for her. “You are our new fencing team captain!”
“Um, I have a list of reasons why I’d be perfect for this,” Katana said, taking a piece of paper that she had tucked into the folds of her costume. “I’ve also developed a series of fencing strategies and exercises for the team.”
“I don’t think you heard me,” Wildcat said. “You got the job, Katana! It’s not going to be easy; we’re low on swords and our next shipment isn’t due for another month or so. Plus, the team is somewhat new, so there’s a lot of intensive training to be done. But if you’re up for leading, you’re it!”
Katana nodded enthusiastically. This was something she knew she could do.
Katana felt light as she made her way back to the dorms. Fencing team captain! She couldn’t wait to tell her parents. They would be so proud. That was when she heard it—the clicking! The creatures were suddenly back! She slowed and the sounds slowed. She sped up and so did they. As planned, she made her way outside to Harmony Garden.
Poison Ivy had surrounded it with a tall hedge but had created a secret opening known only to her, Bumblebee, and Katana. They had figured a meditative place like the garden might be just the thing to lure whatever was making the sound. Not a trap, just a place to be.
Katana accessed the opening. Once inside, she was surrounded by lush plants and colorful, fragrant flowers. It was welcoming and safe. Slowly, Katana sat down on the soft green grass.
“Do you want to tell me who you are?” she asked.
There was a slight rustling behind some of the bushes.
“It’s okay,” Katana said, like Poison Ivy and Bumblebee had suggested to her. “You’re safe here.”
Silence. All she could hear was some laughter from beyond the garden as Supers made their way across campus. Katana realized that the critters were gone again. She was alone. Had she made them nervous? Had she scared them away? As Katana started to get up, she was startled to see some leaves walking toward her.
rabs?” Bumblebee said, looking tickled as she lifted one of the leaves that was milling about. “They’re so cute!”
“They look sort of angry,” Poison Ivy noted, peering down at them and waving hello. The little creatures remained camouflaged under their leaves, but she got the sense that they acknowledged her.
Katana stared at the small crabs staring back up at her. They were only slightly bigger than her fist. She had heard about these. Onna had told her about Ghost Crabs, “Always present, seldom seen,” but Katana had always thought they were just another one of her grandmother’s stories. Onna had told her so many stories: of dragons that flew, of crabs that talked, of battles, of victories, of defeats.
When Katana was researching her Legacy project, Liberty Belle had suggested that she look into Japanese myths and legends. Katana learned that there were feuds that lasted generations, but things like warring families turning to stone were just stories. She learned that the legendary Invincible Sword—also called the Muteki Sword—had never been found. And she learned that the legend of the Ghost Crabs dated back to the days of the Samurai and had mythical implications. But thinking they weren’t real, Katana had eventually stopped her research to focus on her grandmother’s real-life exploits as a Samurai super hero.
She bent down and spoke to the shimmering crab that appeared to be the most forward and fearless of them. “Are you here to meet me?”
The crab discarded its leaf and gave her a slight nod with its whole body.
“We won’t hurt you,” Poison Ivy promised.
“Look!” Bumblebee said. There was awe in her voice.
All around them, plants began to rustle. One by one, more and more Ghost Crabs appeared. Each was different, with the face of what looked like a warrior on its shell. They stood at attention, all lined up in ten rows, ten abreast.
“I think they’re trying to tell you something,” Poison Ivy said. “But what?”
Katana shook her head.
She wished Miss Martian were here. Maybe she could help. Katana knelt down and was about to talk to them when the alarms sounded.
“SAVE THE DAY DRILL! SAVE THE DAY DRILL! SAVE THE DAY DRILL!” blared over the public address system.
“I gotta go help get the word out,” Bumblebee said, instantly flying away and calling out, “Save the Day drill!”
Katana watched her leave, then turned back to the Ghost Crabs. But they had disappeared!
If Poison Ivy and Bumblebee had not seen them, too, Katana would have thought it was just her overactive imagination after so much research into Japanese history and lore. As much as she wanted to, there was no time to look for the crabs while the Save the Day alarm was still ringing.
“What do you think we’ll have to do this time?” Hawkgirl asked Katana. She was flying over the mountains toward the ocean. Alongside her, Katana was testing out one of the prototype jetpacks Batgirl was working on in Mr. Fox’s class. The Save the Day drills gave the Supers a chance to practice their skills, test out new weapons, flex their powers in real-life situations, and see how they would react in a crisis.
“Huh?” Katana said. She had been thinking about the Ghost Crabs. Why were they at Super Hero High? And what did they want with her?
Katana adjusted the straps on her jetpack. She loved that Batgirl was always coming up with new technology to aid the Supers. Katana hoped the battery was fully charged. She had seen what happened to Cyborg when his power was low.
Starfire, another student from a distant world, and Supergirl were soaring alongside them. As they veered off toward the desert, Supergirl yelled, “Next stop, Sedona, Arizona! Good luck, you two!”
Hawkgirl and Katana waved back.
Some Save the Day drills utilized the powers of the full student body in one exercise, like the time all the teachers and staff were placed at the edge of a volcano—albeit an inactive one that Waller had filled with bubbling red goo. It was up to the Supers to rescue them in under an hour. But then there were actual Save the Days, like last month when the teens were charged with relocating a small village in the Alps during a massive landslide. When the goats refused to move, Beast Boy turned into a yeti and herded them to safety.