Such a sense of familiarity. That was the sensation Saber felt as he made his way through Homurahara Academy to fight the Servant that had taken up residence there. This familiarity was not for his own high school, however; if that was to be the case, he would have to be visiting one of the more modern schools situated in the Shinto district. Rather, Homurahara reminded Saber of another place he frequented in life—particularly during the years that made him who he was now—which was a school and yet wasn’t.
Suffice to say, I was on edge the very second I woke the next morning. It was one thing to have an unexpected traumatic experience and deal with it afterwards, but it was another thing entirely to know about a future trauma. The thing that hit me the hardest was having no idea what to do about it. What could I do? I didn’t know what was coming, or how, or where, or why; only a vague prediction as to when.
‘That’s not something you see every day,’ Rider said, flatly.
His Master agreed, face pale. The scene before them definitely wasn’t something one saw every day. In fact, it was likely that few people had ever seen something like this, period. Rider’s Master tried to turn away, but Rider caught his shoulder, holding him in place.
‘Don’t. We’re gonna have to fight that thing. I need you to have my back.’
Not all that much of importance happened for a while after that. I had no choice but to recover from my surgery, learn to walk again and reclaim a sense of normalcy in my life. I had to move into a different apartment that facilitated wheelchair access, and my workplace had some renovations done to accommodate me. My boss was gracious enough to put down my time away as paid leave and keep my position open for when I came back. With all he did for me I couldn’t be mad at him for sending me home that day. If not for the unfortunate circumstances that had got me into that position in the first place I might have enjoyed all the attention and support.