Cat's In The Cradle

A Challenger Approaches, part 1

Sabine tucked an unruly lock of hair vying for freedom back into Marinette's crisply tied pigtails.

"Are you excited for the first day of kindergarten?"

"No," Marinette answered candidly. "I want to stay at the house with you."

"Well, we can't always get what we want," Tom reminded his daughter, planting a kiss on her neatly parted hair.

"I know. But I still don't want to go."

"You're going to love kindergarten," Sabine assured, stroking Marinette's back. "You'll make so many new friends, and learn so many new things-"

"I don't wanna talk about it anymore," Marinette announced. "Let's just go."

Sabine glanced to her husband, smiling with a hint of exasperation. One good thing about having a daughter as outspoken as Marinette was that they always knew exactly what she wanted or what bothered her.

Chubby, infantile hands grasped at the calloused and flour-coated hands of her parents. Sabine and Tom carefully ushered their daughter out the door and began walking her through the aisle-like streets, Marinette skipping along.

September 1st would become one of Marinette's favorite dates. She loved the brisk hints of winter that hid in pockets throughout the city. She yearned for the golden amber aesthetic that settled like a powder and coated everything in sight. She adored the music of leaves crunching rhythmically under her feet.

Snap, crack, squish. Snap, crack, squish. Snap, crack, squish.

She snap-crack-squished her way to the school in the wake of her parents, never missing a crunchy beat.

Marinette stared up at the banner strung above the door, emblazoned with a floral pink BIENVENUE AU PREMIER JOUR DE LA GRANDE SECTIONE DE MATERNELLE.

"Should we come in with you, or would you rather-"

"I want to go in by myself," Marinette decided assertively, and marched in.

The building was cozily warm, the comforting heat reaching out in tendrils to her and wrapping her in an imaginary blanket.

"You must be Marinette," a woman dressed in a red dress smiled. "My name's Madame Garcia."

Marinette blinked once.

"You're going to be in my class, then. Why don't you go on in?"

Marinette still said nothing as she docilely obeyed and marched to the doorway.

She completed a full 180 scan of the classroom before she even thought about entering. Six tables arranged in a semicircle harbored ten children already, who were for the most part socializing with each other amicably. A desk which presumably belonged to Mme. Garcia was nestled crookedly in the corner. A jar of cookies and a vase of flowers occupied opposite corners of the desk. Looming bookshelves cast shadows onto the magenta-carpeted floor, stacked top to bottom with children's novels and learning-to-read books. World maps and French maps occupied the walls, along with cheery posters advising reading and such.

"You must be Adrien," Marinette heard a deep and masculine voice say from outside the door, and she twisted around immediately to see its owner.

In the opposing doorway from Mme. Garcia's classroom, a tall man with spiky slicked-back dark hair lounged against the doorframe.

"I'm M. Simon," he introduced himself.

Marinette's gaze lowered and settled on a boy who was about her height. His hair was bouncy and straw-colored, and when he shifted slightly towards Marinette, she saw his eyes.