Chapter Text
The first time it hit him, Matt was six years old and had just been transferred to a private school, aimed at highly gifted students. Your son’s smart. He needs more than what we can provide, his mother had been told. She’d paged through the pamphlet, stopping when she reached the page that covered the cost.
“I appreciate it, but we can’t afford this.” It was entirely out of the question. She’d never seen that amount of money before in her life, much less per annum.
“I’m aware of the issues, Mrs. Jeevas. The costs will be covered. We have an anonymous benefactor who’s offered to cover everything. Tuition, room, board, textbooks, everything. You won’t have to worry about anything regarding the cost.”
“But…” Mrs. Jeevas looked taken aback at the amount of charity being offered. “I didn’t ask for that.”
“I did. Matthew’s test scores put him at a genius level. He’s already been accepted; all you have to do is sign for him.”
“Who’s paying for this?” Mrs. Jeevas was concerned about who had this sort of money to spend on her son, of all people. Not that she didn’t know he was smart—she knew. Everyone knew. But this…
“As I said, an anonymous benefactor. I can’t offer anything beyond that, other than that the funding comes from a person who values education and hates to see someone like your son in a place where he can’t reach his full potential.”
~~~~~
Matt was transferred to the new school after winter break. He said good bye to his classmates before Christmas, not entirely understanding that he wouldn’t be returning. On his mother’s recommendation, he made a Christmas card for his benefactor, thanking him for paying for his new school’s tuition and expenses.
The trip to his new school felt long. Matt boarded a train with his mother early in the morning, and by the time they arrived at the town closest to the school, the sun had already set. They stayed at a small inn that night. At dinner, his mother mostly talked about how Matt needed to work hard, to show that he’d been the right choice for the scholarship. She made him promise to write her regularly and reminded him that she’d see him again as soon as she could, but that it wouldn’t be for a while. Even if she hadn’t said that, Matt knew, after how long the train ride had been, that he wouldn’t see her again until his next school break. If then.
In the morning, a car came into town to pick Matt up. He said goodbye to his mother there, despite the driver’s offer to let her visit the school. There wasn’t time before she had to catch her train home. Even with Matt’s schooling paid for, she still had to work.
Matt didn’t let himself cry until he car was well out of view of his mother. He knew she was sad enough without that.
~~~~~
It wasn’t that Matt never saw his mother again after that. It was rare though, and she slowly faded to the back of his mind, further away the longer he spent at the school. He had no idea what the cost for tuition was, only that it was more than his mother could afford and that someone else was covering it. He didn’t know who that person was, and he didn’t spend a lot of time wondering. At his age, it just didn’t seem that important. He went to his classes, did his homework, and generally tried not to get too distracted.
Boarding school was a whole new experience for him. He had a room all to himself, every class was small with no more than ten children to a group, and the library was huge. The children were all tested on their skills regularly, and the tests were a challenge (which hadn’t been the case at his old school). Matt’s scores were always good, so he didn’t spend much time worrying about them.
Matt’s seventh birthday took place a month after he arrived. He found out that birthdays were celebrated with other students in the dormitory. He hadn’t really made friends yet, but that didn’t stop the other children on his floor from enjoying the cake his birthday brought.
After his party, Matt went back to his room where he found two things sitting on his desk. He received a card from his mother, wishing him well, telling him how much she missed him, and wishing him a happy birthday. That didn’t surprise him. What surprised him was the box wrapped in fancy paper, waiting for him to open it. The note on the card only said “Happy birthday, Matt.” In place of a signature, the box was simply signed Your Benefactor. Opening the box. Matt found an atomic purple Game Boy Color and a few games. It looked well-loved, but it was a gift, and it was his own. Matt didn’t care enough to question why it had been sent to him (or why his benefactor, who had enough money to spend on this school, was sending him a game over twenty years old).
Pokemon Red was already in the system, so Matt turned it on and navigated through the first few screens. There was already a saved game. Matt almost turned off the system to reset the game, but stopped when he saw the name on the save file.
Matt …
It seemed weird that his benefactor would have already started a game with his name on it. Matt loaded up the current save and started looking through it.
He’d never played the game before, but for one reason or another, it felt familiar. He clicked through the pokemon in his party first.
>Level 100 Charizard
>Level 100 Mewtwo
>Level 100 Dragonite
>Level 100 Vileplume
>Level 100 Gyarados
>Level 100 Zubat
All the highest level. All looking almost like old friends. The sensation was weird, and even if someone had been there to ask Matt to describe it, he didn’t think he’d have been able to.
Backing out of his party, he went to look through the Pokedex. It was 100% complete. Even knew to the game, Matt knew that wasn’t how this game was supposed to arrive.
At lights out, he turned off the game, having made his decision no to reset it that night. Maybe tomorrow….
He would turn the game on the next day, and the day after that, and never would decide to reset it. For some reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to do that.
He sent a thank you note to his benefactor and mentioned that he hadn’t started a new game of Pokemon yet, but that he liked it. He included a picture he drew of Charizard and hoped it would be a good return gift.
~~~~~
The semester seemed to run faster after his birthday was over. Every month, he was tested, and every month, he moved up to higher level work. It barely occurred to him just how quickly he was being moved through curriculum. By the end of his first year, in June, he was three grades ahead of what he’d started the year at back in January. His standing at the school wasn’t even discussed in terms of grades. As soon as he’d mastered a class, he was moved into the next one. He later figured out that was the case for everyone. Skill levels were all over the place, with students simply being placed in classes based on what they could do. There were kids of all ages in each one of his classes, but even with that, Matt knew he was one of the younger ones.
Most of the kids didn’t talk about their parents, so Matt took their lead and never mentioned his mother. He continued to send her cards and letters, at holidays and when he had things to say. More and more though, she felt like some distant figure and less like his mother. He guessed it was just a side effect of not being able to talk about her much.
Otherwise, things continued to be as normal as they ever were at school. The same small classes, the same teachers, the same small groups of people who all seemed better at things than they should have been. It was so easy to get into a routine, something Matt hadn’t realized just how badly he needed it.
His normal summer break came and went. Classes continued during most of the summer, but there were two weeks designated for travel at the end of June. Matt’s mother couldn’t afford to visit him, and he was too young to travel home by train by himself, so he stayed at the school (with special permission to call his mother every day during the break).
When students returned things got back to normal. A full class schedule, his normal routine once again unbroken. Fall semester started as barely a blip, since most students moved in class in whatever month they tested high enough to do so. It wasn’t as though everyone was moving to a new year at the same time.
Still, at the beginning of fall, Matt received a letter from his benefactor—short, typed, with very little to make it personal. His benefactor assured him he would continue to pay for his schooling, asked him to do his best, and mentioned that he was pleased with his progress so far. He thanked him for the picture Matt had sent as well, telling him that it was on display in his office. (Matt had almost forgotten about the picture, but was happy to hear it had been well received.) There was no more information about why his benefactor was funding him of all people, beyond what he’d heard last year. Not that it really bothered him. He planned to do his best, then tucked the letter away and gradually forgot about it.
September and October and early November came and went with nothing out of the ordinary. In late November, Matt woke up one morning and opened the door of his room to see several people going by. The room next door (which had been vacant since Matt first arrived) was being cleaned and prepared for a new student. The student didn’t arrive the next day, or the day after that, and after a week, Matt quit paying attention.
On December 1st, someone moved into the room next door.