Chapter 1

There was something different about the night Sinder was born.

The snow had just started falling, soft and silent, and the moon hung high like a glowing lantern in the sky. In a small village surrounded by pine trees and icy rivers, a tiny orange kitten blinked open her eyes for the first time. Her fur shimmered with fiery orange and red stripes, and her eyes burned gold like the sun. Even the wind paused, just for a second, like it knew something important had just begun.

Her name was Sinder.

From the very beginning, people noticed she wasn’t like

the other kids in the village. She could make fire appear real flames that flickered from her ears or tail whenever she got scared or excited. At first, she thought it was normal. But by the time she was six, she realized… it wasn’t.

The village didn’t talk about it much, but the whispers were there. Some kids stayed away. Some were just curious. But no one really understood.

Except her mom.

“You’re not cursed,” her mom would say gently after every nightmare or accident. “You’re blessed, Sinder. Allah gave you this for a reason.”

Sinder believed her, most of the time. But still, she kept

it secret. She didn’t want to be seen as a monster.

By the time she turned ten, she was praying regularly, reading Qur’an with her mom, and helping clean up after Jummah prayers at the masjid. She loved the feeling of peace in the prayer room, the way her heart felt calm and light when she whispered her du’a after praying.

But deep inside, her fire was growing stronger.

One night, after praying Maghrib, she looked up at the sky and whispered,

That night, she had a strange dream. She stood on a snowy cliff, fire swirling around her paws, her eyes glowing brighter than ever before. In the distance, a voice echoed,

She woke up with a chill.

She didn’t know what it meant yet. But something was coming.

Something big.

Chapter 2

The first day of middle school was supposed to feel like a fresh start.
New uniform, new shoes, new school bag. I even pinned a small brooch shaped like a flame to my hoodie, Mother said it reminded her of my spirit.

But even fire has to watch where it burns.

I stepped into the crowded hallway, clutching my notebook. Kids rushed past me, talking about their summer vacations, laughing with their friends. I didn’t know many of them, our family had just moved here.

I walked quietly to my locker, whispering a small du’a to myself, like my mom had taught me.

It helped. A little.

Until I heard them.

I flinched, trying to ignore them, but their giggles stung like thorns. Three girls stood nearby, whispering loudly enough for me to hear. One of them smirked as she pointed to the flame-like tips of my ears and tail. I turned away and busied myself with my locker.

“Bet she thinks she’s better than everyone else,” one sneered.
I took a deep breath, holding in the heat rising in my chest. Don’t let it show. Don’t burn anything.

My grandma taught me that one. I recited it under my breath like a shield.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” a soft voice said.

I turned around—and saw a girl with glowing ocean-blue eyes and a soft smile. She looked like the northern lights had chosen to wear a hoodie.

“I'm Lyra,” she said, holding out her paw. “Want to come sit with me?”

My heart fluttered with relief. I nodded.

“Yeah... I’m Sinder.”

I followed Lyra down the hallway, the sound of my footsteps just barely louder than the teasing whispers behind me. But now, they didn’t sting quite as much.

Her presence felt like the cool breeze after a summer flame—gentle, kind. She led me to a corner of the cafeteria near the windows, where sunlight poured in and warmed the seats.

“This is my favorite spot,” Lyra said, plopping down on the bench. “It’s quiet. Nobody bothers you here.”

I smiled, still a little shy. “Thanks… for helping me back there.”

She grinned. “Of course! Those girls are just bored. You’ve got awesome ears, by the way.”

I blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah! Like fire and sunset rolled into one. Super cool.”

I chuckled softly. “My mom says they’re a blessing. That Allah made me this way for a reason.”

Lyra nodded. “Your mom sounds wise.”

“She is,” I said, fiddling with my red diamond necklace. “She always tells me… ‘Even fire can be gentle when it’s guided by light.’”

Lyra tilted her head. “Whoa. That’s poetic.”

I laughed, and it felt good. Like something heavy had lifted. For once, I didn’t feel like I had to hide the flame inside me.

Then, Lyra nudged me. “Hey, want to read Qur’an with

me during lunch tomorrow? My family does that sometimes when school’s tough.”

I blinked at her, surprised. “You… read Qur’an too?”

She nodded, a little bashfully. “Yup! I may be goofy sometimes, but I try my best. Besides, I think you and I, we’re meant to be friends.”

Something about the way she said it made my heart glow.

I smiled. “Yeah. Me too.”

That was the day I stopped hiding.

That was the day my story truly began.

Chapter 3

The next day, I practically zoomed out of bed.

Today was the day.

I had finally decided—I was going to start drawing my very own comic book series. Not just any comic, though. This one was going to be legendary. A story about a hijabi superhero who could fly, save the world, and share kindness, honesty, and f and save the world in her abaya.

I called her…

Super Hijabi.

“Look!,” I said aloud as I sketched the first panel, my pencil flying across the page. “She’s going to have gold-trimmed sleeves, flame boots, and an attitude.”

I giggled, my signature cackle, the kind that always made Lyra snort.
“HEHEHEHEHE— okay okay okay wait wait—she needs a sidekick... maybe a squirrel. A muslim squirrel!”

My room smelled like cinnamon and warm blankets, and the morning light shimmered on my desk as I doodled my hero soaring through the clouds.

In the background, I could hear Badr reciting Qur’an with Maryam in the living room, his voice smooth and peaceful. It grounded me. Even when my imagination ran wild, our deen gave me something steady to hold onto.

But my brain? was full of thoughts.

“Super Hijabi Episode One: The Masjid Heist,” I whispered, dramatically.
She was gonna stop a villain trying to steal all the Ramadan dates from the masjid’s kitchen.

I laughed out loud again, smacking my desk.
“WHO EVEN DOES THAT?! I LOVE THIS. AHHHH!”

Later at school, I showed Lyra my drawings.

She practically shrieked. “Subhanallah. THIS IS. SO. COOL. Can I be the squirrel?!”

I grinned. “You’d make the perfect squirrel. Sassy, chaotic, and lowkey brilliant.”

She cackled. “You know I’d be throwing acorns at villains.”

That whole lunch period was just us giggling over plot

ideas, inventing superhero catchphrases like “By the strength of my sunnah socks!” and “Taste the fire of fasting!”

I hadn’t felt this happy in ages.

Between my comics, Lyra’s friendship, and the fire in my heart...

Maybe this school year was gonna be something special after all.

Chapter 4 

It all started in art class.

Ms. Nadine had just handed us our weekly assignment:
“Draw something that represents who you are.”

Easy.

While the rest of the class groaned and slumped over their sketchbooks, I already had my pencil in hand. I knew exactly what to draw.

Super Hijabi, of course.

I gave her new gear—a sparkling red cape shaped like a hijab, glowing cuffs, and a crescent moon emblem on her chest. In the background, I added a masjid with the adhan ringing through the sky.

And in big bold letters:
"Salam"

But as I worked, I felt eyes on me.

I glanced up.

Across the room, Zara, the girl who once made fun of my eyes in gym class, was staring at my drawing. Not with judgment this time... but curiosity.

“What is that?” she asked.

I blinked. “It’s... Super Hijabi.”

Zara tilted her head. “That’s actually kinda cool.”

I sat there, stunned.

“Wait—you like it?”

“Yeah,” she said. “She looks powerful. And... different. In a good way.”

Okay, what alternate universe was this?!

By the end of class, three more girls had gathered around my desk, asking questions about Super Hijabi.

I even caught Adam—yes, that Adam—sneaking glances and whispering to his friend, “Bro, she turned her culture into a comic. That’s kinda sick.”

And for the first time, I didn’t shrink into my hoodie.

I straightened up.

Because this—this was why I created Super Hijabi. To show that you could be strong, smart, funny, faithful—

and totally yourself.

Later that day, Lyra ran up to me in the hallway, waving her sketchbook.

“ I drew our sidekick squirrel and gave her a grappling hook made of prayer beads.”

I wheezed. “You’re insane.”

“Hehehehe~ Thank you, I try.”

We high-fived so hard, our hands stung.

That night, I made dua before bed.

I thanked Allah for giving me ideas, for Lyra, for my weird laugh, and even for the bullies who were slowly turning into... not-bullies.

Maybe Super Hijabi was making a difference.

Maybe I was too.

Chapter 5

The courtyard was loud with shouts, sneakers squeaking on pavement, and the shrill ring of the recess bell. I had just finished sketching a new hijabi superhero idea in my notebook—“Super Hijabi,” a girl with a cloak of stardust and the strength of a thousand lions—when I heard yelling from the other side of the schoolyard.

My ears twitched. Literally. my instincts always picked up on trouble.

I stood up and saw a small crowd forming near the basketball hoops. Curiosity tugged at me, and I jogged over.

And that’s when I saw her.

A girl with long, flowing blue-black fur and wide violet eyes stood tall, even though two older boys were clearly trying to mess with her. One of them shoved her shoulder.

She didn’t back down.

"You're not scaring me," she said firmly, her voice steady like ocean waves crashing against stubborn rocks.

That voice.

It had something familiar. Something... strong.

I stepped forward, fire rising in my chest. “Hey!”

The boys turned.

“Pick on someone your own size,” I growled, folding my arms.

One of them scoffed. “What are you gonna do, flame-face?”

I grinned, letting just a flicker of heat spark off my fingertips. “You wanna find out?”

They took a step back. One muttered, “Weirdos,” and they finally walked away.

The girl turned to me, brushing off her hoodie. Her cheeks were pink, but her posture was steady.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

“No problem,” I said, shrugging. “Name’s Sinder.”

Her eyes lit up just a little. “I’m Lily.”

That was it.

Just like that, something clicked. Like fire and moonlight

had collided and created something new.

“You like comics?” I asked, holding up my notebook.

Her face broke into a soft smile. “Depends. Do yours have hijabi superheroes?”

I laughed—my real laugh, the kind that made people say I sounded like a cackling cat. “Only the best.”

We sat on the curb together, sharing stories and dreams. For the first time in a while, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time.

Warmth. Connection. Friendship.

And I had a feeling this was only the beginning.

Chapter 6 (Lily's POV)

Ugh. School.
I had been here for barely two weeks and already wanted to disappear into a blanket burrito forever.

Between the noise, the weird food smells, and the occasional idiot who thought it was funny to make fun of my accent or call me names—I was over it.

But today?

Today was different.

After those boys got scared off (by what I swear was a girl with fire in her soul and sparkles in her eyes), I sat beside her on the curb, trying not to seem impressed.

Okay, maybe I was a little impressed.

She had this confidence like she didn’t care what anyone thought. Her hair had these orange streaks that looked like little fire trails, and her eyes? Straight-up glowed. Like, not in the poetic way—I mean, literally glowed.

She was like a firecracker that came to life and decided to wear combat boots.

“I’m Lily,” I said again, twirling a piece of my long dark hair. I tugged my hoodie sleeves over my hands. The breeze tickled my nose, and I sniffled. “Thanks for scaring them off. They were being buttheads.”

Sinder smirked, her voice still warm with laughter. “Buttheads, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

I grinned. “Well, I would say something worse, but I’m

tryna be all halal today.”

She blinked. “...Halal?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m Muslim. Gotta keep it clean sometimes, y’know?”

“Ohhh,” she said slowly. “So you’re, like, awesome and disciplined?  I’m just chaotic.”

I snorted. “Aren’t we all? But you’re the cool kind of chaotic.”

Sinder leaned back on her hands, watching the clouds. “Soooo… what brings you to this disaster of a school?”

I hesitated. My smile wobbled for a second.

“Family stuff,” I muttered. “It’s… complicated.”

Her eyes flicked to me, a little softer now. “Same.”

There it was. That moment. That invisible thread that tied two girls together—two souls who had been through too much, too fast, but still managed to laugh in the middle of it.

“Oh! Wanna see something?” I perked up and pulled a tiny notepad from my bag. Inside were doodles of a hijabi superhero—long flowing cape, moon symbols, powerful fists.

“I’m making a comic,” I said. “She’s like, the ultimate protector of the innocent. I call her Super Hijabi.”

Sinder’s eyes widened like I just handed her gold.

“No way. That’s so cool.”

“She’s got moonlight powers,” I added proudly. “And a

flying shawl.”

Sinder burst out laughing, her voice high and mischievous—like a cat that just knocked something expensive off a shelf. “Okay, you and me? We’re gonna get along great.”

I beamed.

Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all.

Chapter 7

It all started with a pencil.

I was just sitting in class, minding my own business, drawing Super Hijabi punching a villain shaped like a school bell, when I heard it.

Snap.

Followed by:
“Oops. Didn’t mean to break your pencil, scarf girl.”

I turned around slowly.

It was Jason. Again.

This boy had the emotional range of a chicken nugget and the brainpower of a crayon that had been chewed

on.

“First of all,” I said sweetly, standing up and holding eye contact like a polite shark, “my name is Lily. Second of all, what did that pencil ever do to you?”

Before he could respond with something predictably lame, a flaming orange pencil flew across the room and smacked his desk.

Thwack!

“Whoops,” Sinder grinned from across the room, her eyes glowing just a little too much. “My hand slipped.”

Jason paled.

I had to bite my hoodie to stop from laughing. The class went silent.

Our teacher, Mr. Tarek, turned around just in time to see me and Sinder high-fiving like we just stopped a world-ending asteroid.

“Lily. Sinder,” he said in that exhausted way teachers talk when they know they’ve already lost the war. “Detention. After school.”

“Yes, sir,” I said with a totally innocent face.

As we walked to detention later that afternoon, I nudged Sinder. “You really threw a pencil at him?”

“He broke yours,” she shrugged. “That’s a war crime in my book.”

We walked into the detention room like we owned the place. It was empty except for a sleepy-looking sub who

didn’t even glance up.

That’s when the real chaos began.

Sinder pulled out a box of glitter markers. “Operation SparkleStorm is a go.”

I cackled. “Let’s decorate the school rules poster.”

By the time detention was over, we had covered the entire poster in doodles of Super Hijabi fighting evil school lunches, and little cartoon Sinders breathing fire at school bullies.

The sub looked up, blinked, and said, “Honestly? That’s kind of amazing.”

We skipped out of detention like it was recess.

And in that moment, with glitter on our hands and not a