Author's notes: Written for Rentfic challenge. This also sprang from the ridiculous school rules I've encountered. What exactly is wrong with wearing hats in school? (Aside from security issues as Longshadowsfall pointed out to me). Since this was written in under two hours, the dialogue may not be exactly how five-year-olds talk. But hey, they're precocious.

Warnings: Cancer, mention of death (Collin's mother)

Disclaimer: I don't own Rent

Tom Collins jumped off the steps of the school bus and ran into the playground. He was lucky to be on the early bus because that gave him a half-hour to play before he had to endure his kindergarten teacher. Now, don't be mistaken: Tom loved school. He had thought it would be different. Instead of learning history and composition, the class was reviewing the alphabet and numbers to ten. Even art class was boring. He already knew that yellow and blue made green, thanks to his father's paints. He already knew the blasted alphabet and could count to a million. In fact, he could read, had been able to for over a year. It was the last gift he received from his mother before she died.

Luckily, it was still warm outside. Tom knew that when it got colder, he'd have to go right into the school building and he wouldn't be allowed to play on the monkey bars before class. Maybe they learned harder things when it got cold. Outside, he could play with the other kids and get along with them. Inside, they sensed he was different and didn't want anything to do with him. Since there were twenty-five kids in the class, he was often the odd one out when they did partner work. No one wanted to share books with him since he always picked the ones with lots of words and few pictures.

Tom didn't notice the other boy until he almost tripped over him. He was sitting quietly, waiting for the classroom to open. Tom had never seen him before. He was very pale and thin. He wore a baggy coat, corduroy pants that seemed to big for him, and a New York Yankee's cap identical to Tom's. His eyes were hidden by thick glasses, but they had purple shadows under them. Maybe this new boy could be his friend. Tom offered his hand, like his mother had taught him.

"Hi, my name's Tom," he said. "Did you just move to Scarsdale?"

The boy shook his head. "No. I've lived here all my life. I'm Mark Cohen."

"Nice to meet you, Mark. Wanna play on the monkey bars with me?"

Mark thought for a minute then sadly shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't. I want to though."

"Why not? You look kinda scrawny, but I'm sure you're stronger than you look. I'll be with you if you're scared."

"My mom told me I'm not allowed to do anything to make myself tired. I can play on the swings, though." Tom brightened and led his new friend over to the swing set. He pushed Mark a few times to get him started, because his legs didn't quite reach the ground. Then Tom climbed into the next swing and started pumping.

"Mark, why are you starting school so late? It's already October."

"I've been in the hospital, and then I wasn't strong enough when they let me out."

"Is that why you're not allowed to get tired?"

"Uh-huh. I still have to take a lot of medicine and it makes me feel kind of sick, especially when I'm tired. I wanted to come to school for a long time, but I haven't been well enough to go."

"I hope you're not expecting too much. Can you read?"

"Yeah. The nurse at the hospital taught me on the days I didn't have to take my medicine. She said if I can't run and play, at least I can escape into books."

"Most of the kids here can't. It gets boring. Can you count?"

"To a million. I got bored one day in the hospital. One of the big boys showed me the really big numbers in his math book so I spent the next few days counting."

"Yeah? Me too. Though I was counting when Dad took me to his office. It's almost as boring as kindergarten."

"I hope it's not that bad. Though it's got to be better than the hospital."

"What's wrong with you anyway?"

"I've got something in my Hodgkin, I think. That's what the doctor's always saying to my parents. I had to have this yucky medicine that makes me throw up all the time."

"Gross!"

"And it makes me shake and ..." Mark hesitated.

"Go on. If it's a secret, I won't tell."

"It made all my hair fall out," Mark whispered. "Luckily my Yankee's cap covers my head!"

"Whatcha gonna do when we go into the school? We're not allowed to wear hats in class." Tom commented.

Mark went even more pale than Tom thought was humanly possible. His eyes widened. He looked downright scared. "We can't wear hats? My mom told me I could wear my hat."

"Maybe they'll let you because you have a good reason."

"I hope so. I don't like the way I look without hair."

Just then, the bell rang. Tom and Mark lined up with the other kindergartners at the door. He and Mark were the last two in the line. They walked into the school together. Tom approached his teacher, Ms. Snelling.

"Good morning, Ma'am."

"Good morning, Tom." said Ms. Snelling.

"Ms. Snelling, I'd like to introduce you to Mark Cohen. He's new."

"Thank you , Tom. Hello, Mark. Your mother and I had a talk yesterday. You be sure to tell me if you're feeling tired, alright. Tom, could you show Mark around?"

"Of course, Ma'am." Keeping his tone very respectful, he decided to ask about Mark's hat. The other boy looked so scared that Tom knew he wouldn't be able to ask himself. "Ms. Snelling. I have a question for you."

"Yes, Tom? What is it?"

Tom's Dad had always told him to be polite and respectful when making requests, and he followed that advice. "Well, Ma'am. You see, Mark wants to wear his cap in school. He has a very good reason to do so."

"I'm sorry, Mark. Tom, you know the rules. No one is allowed to wear a cap in school. Even if they do have a good reason."

Mark looked like he was about to cry. He gave Tom a beseeching look. Tom looked at his friend, then at his teacher. "Why?"

"Why what, Tom?"

"Why can't we wear caps in school?"

"It's a sign of respect."

"How is taking off your hat a sign of respect?"

"It just is. Now go take Mark to the cloakroom and join us at the circle." Tom nodded but gave a motion to Mark and led him into the cloakroom. There he showed Mark his new cubby and showed him where to put his outside shoes. "Keep your cap on. I'm keeping mine on, too. I don't see why we can't wear hats. I still respect her even if I'm wearing my cap."

"Me too," grinned Mark.

The two boys joined the circle. They left their caps in place during the National Anthem and the Pledge of Allegiance. Ms. Snelling stared at them. "Boys. You know the rules. Take off the caps."

Tom Stared back at her. "With all due respect, Ms. Snelling. I don't see how removing a cap is a sign of respect. In my church, all the ladies wear hats out of respect to God. If that ain't respect, I don't know what is!"

Mark grinned. "Yeah, Ma'am. In my synagogue, all the men cover their heads out of respect, too."

A little girl with mocha-coloured skin raised her hand. "Ms. Snelling, you don't make me take off my hejab. How is Mark's cap different?" The question was honest.

"Those are all religious reasons. A ball cap is a different article altogether. Take off the caps boys."

"OK, Ms. Snelling. Mark, I've started my own religion and it is only acceptable to God if you wear a ball cap. You in?" Mark nodded.

Ms. Snelling was getting decidedly red in the face. "Boys, this is your last chance. Either remove the caps or go to the principal's office."

Tom smiled sweetly at her. "I'm sorry, Ms. Snelling, but that goes against my religion. I'll show Mark where the principal's office is."

That evening, Tom had to face his father.

"Tom, why were you sent to the office today. Ms. Snelling said you were being disrespectful. What would your mother think? She always taught you to show respect to everyone."

"Mom also told me to stand up for what I think is right. I didn't think Mark should have to take of his ball cap. He had a good reason. The rule was stupid."

"Rules are there for a reason, son."

"But they should be bent from time to time. Mark's going to get teased when the other kids see that he's got no hair."

"Wait, you better explain this to me. Ms. Snelling didn't mention another boy."

"Before I tell you, can you answer a question?"

"Of course."

"What's a Hodgkin? Mark said he's sick in his Hodgkin. Is it catching?"

"You mean Hodgkin's disease?"

"I guess."

All of a sudden, Mr. Collins understood.

"It's not a part of the body, Tom. It's a kind of cancer."

"Like mom had?"

"Not exactly. Your mom had breast cancer, but it's serious like that."

"So Mark could die from it?"

"It's possible, but if he's well enough to go to school, he's probably fighting it hard."

"I wish I could do something else to help him," sighed Tom. "The school probably won't change their mind."

"I'll talk to your principal, but I have another idea about how you can help."

When the bell rang the next morning, two kindergarteners lingered in the cloakroom. In spite of their parents' protests, the rule about caps was not changed, even if there was a good reason to wear a cap.

"You ready?" asked Tom.

"I am. Thanks for doing this."

"It's only right. I still think the rule is stupid."

"But you didn't have to..."

"Yes I did. Now you're not the only one whose bald."