((omg the cute!!! love this, and perfect Kindergartenstuck kickstart—though this takes place a couple years after that))
You are Nepeta Lejion, and today you are teaching Equius how to ride a bike. You yourself have been riding a two-wheeler since you were about six years old, but Equius’ parents hadn’t taught him yet, and he’d blushed blue when the discussion had come up at recess. You’d headbutted his arm and felt the tension bleed out of him, and he’d smiled down at you.
He’s a little taller than you, but your little dirt bike will have to suffice to teach him, in the driveway of your house after school. And even though he is taller, he is not that much taller, even so, he ducks his head and makes himself small as he rubs the back of his neck. “I am afraid I will break it, Nepeta. You know how STRONG I am.” He’s tense and his posture is closed.
"Equikitty will be just purrfect, you’ll see," she said, beaming at him in perfect confidence. "Equikitty is just worried fur nothing, because I will help!" She got on the bike. "Here, watch me!" She showed him how to push off with one foot, how to keep the bike upright while moving slow, how to speed up and how to slow and stop. "It’s easy peasy, Equius. Come on, please try?" She looked up at him with big eyes, knowing he couldn’t resist it.
He makes a soft, nervous sound, but when she gets off the bike, he gets on. Equius has many faults, all of which he knows about, but not listening is not one of them. He follows her directions to the letter, and though he has a few mis-starts, he is soon able to ride a short, wobbly way. But you can’t learn to ride a bike without falling off at least once, and Equius will not be an exception.
You rush over to him and you might not be as STRONG as he is but you are not weak yourself, and you get the bike off of him and almost pick him up, hugging. “Are you okay?” you ask, blinking anxiously at him. He has skinned knees and a skinned elbow but he nods anyway. “…in the house, mama will have bandaids! They’re Hello Kitty!”
Even though Equius winces when Nepeta’s foster mother puts the astringent on, and maybe the bright pink bandages with Hello Kitty on them aren’t the best color for him, he still smiles when you butt his shoulder apologetically.
"I’ll do better next time," he says to you. "…and then maybe I’ll be able to get a bike of my own and we can ride together." He says it as if it’ll be the most perfect day ever when that happens.
You can’t help but agree.