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Quintessential Shadows: Quintessential Quintuplets Fanfic

It_Z_Valt_aoi
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The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
Y/N L/n is an ordinary high school student at Asahiyama High, living a relatively quiet life alongside his only friend, Fuutarou Uesugi. Known for his reserved nature, Y/N prefers to stay out of the spotlight, focusing on his studies and personal interests. However, his life takes an unexpected turn when he and Fuutarou are offered a tutoring job that could help them financially. Their task? To tutor five beautiful yet academically struggling sisters-the Nakano quintuplets. At first, Y/N sees the job as nothing more than a means to an end, but as he spends more time with the sisters, he begins to realize that each of them carries their own burdens, struggles, and dreams. Through laughter, conflicts, and heartfelt moments, Y/N finds himself slowly drawn into their world, challenging his once-solitary nature. As the quintuplets resist their tutoring, friendships form, bonds deepen, and emotions grow complicated. What started as a simple job soon becomes a life-changing experience, not just for the Nakano sisters, but for Y/N and Fuutarou as well. Little do they know, this fateful encounter will shape their futures in ways they never imagined. None of the characters in here belongs to me, except maybe the main Character and some of the new characters that I'll introduce in future chapters.
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: A fateful encounter

As the cathedral bell rang, its solemn chimes echoed through the open air, cutting through the quiet like a gentle tide rolling over still water. The sky outside was a serene blue, streaked with faint clouds, and sunlight streamed in through the tall stained-glass windows, bathing the room in a mosaic of colors.

In the center of the room stood a man-Y/n L/n. His posture was calm, yet there was a subtle tension in his fingers, clasped in front of him. He was dressed in a stunning white coat, tailored with precision, its fabric catching the light just enough to hint at enchantment. Beneath it, a sleek black dress shirt hugged his frame, its buttons perfectly aligned, the collar sharp and symmetrical. He wore matching black trousers and polished leather shoes so reflective they mirrored the golden aisle beneath his feet.

His eyes were closed for a moment-not in fear, but in quiet reflection.

Then, the large doors at the back of the cathedral opened.

A gentle breeze carried in the scent of fresh flowers as she appeared.

Her hair, bright red like a flickering flame, flowed softly around her shoulders, glistening beneath her delicate veil. Her lips curled into a radiant, genuine smile-the kind that could melt steel or silence chaos. And indeed, it made Y/n blush ever so slightly, his composed demeanor faltering for just a heartbeat.

She was wearing a dazzling white wedding gown, intricately adorned with subtle embroidery and light-catching threads of silver. In her hands was a bouquet of pastel-pink roses, baby's breath, and lavender. Her eyes were closed, a peaceful smile on her lips as she was gently guided forward.

Flanking her on all sides were four identical women, each unmistakably her sisters-the famed quintuplets of legend.

They led her down the aisle slowly, reverently, with bittersweet smiles.

"You can do it," one of them whispered-the, her voice trembling with emotion as she leaned closer to her sister.

And just like that, she arrived.

The red-haired bride stepped forward and stood beside Y/n. They didn't look at each other at first. They simply felt each other's presence, as though standing shoulder to shoulder in an invisible storm that had finally passed.

"I can't believe it's been eight years since that day," Y/n said quietly, eyes still closed, his voice gentle, steeped in nostalgia.

The woman gave a soft chuckle, her voice airy and warm. "It's actually been more than eight years. Thirteen years, to be exact," she corrected with a smirk. "We were quite the troublemakers, weren't we?"

Y/n opened his eyes and looked at her for the first time that day. "Yeah... you all were," he said with a small laugh, shaking his head. "But that's what made you so special. That's what made all of you special."

He turned to look at the four sisters, now standing together in the front pew, watching the scene unfold. Their faces were painted with joy, but also streaked with tears. It was a happiness laced with sorrow-a quiet ache of moving forward while still cherishing the past.

They smiled, even through the pain.

Y/n's gaze returned to the woman beside him.

"It was really a great adventure with you all," he said.

The bride looked up at him, her eyes shimmering, her smile bittersweet. "Yeah, it was," she whispered. "And I'm happy that I met you." She leaned in and gently punched his shoulder, laughter dancing in her eyes. "Even if you were a bit of a dork back then."

They both laughed quietly, lost in the memories.

Then-

A man dressed in a ceremonial priest's robe stepped before them, raising his hands and clearing his throat gently.

The murmurs in the room died down.

"Now," the priest began with a serene smile, "Would you, Y/n L/n, take the woman beside you to be your lawfully wedded wife, in this world and the next?"

Y/n glanced at her-then nodded without hesitation. "Yes. I do."

The priest turned to the bride. "And would you, Naka-"

But before the words could be spoken, Y/n's thoughts wandered again.

'It still feels like yesterday... the moment we all met, he thought, eyes softening. We went through so much-laughter, tears, battles, heartbreaks... but meeting you... that was the greatest miracle of all.'

Then-

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The shrill, unrelenting wail of the alarm clock shattered the serene cathedral moment like glass smashing against concrete. The memory-no, the dream-crumbled into fragments as Y/n was yanked back into the mundane reality of his bedroom.

His eyes snapped open.

Light filtered in through a cracked window curtain, casting pale lines across his face. He blinked rapidly, trying to reorient himself.

Gone.

"Ugh... this damn alarm," Y/n groaned, his voice groggy with sleep. He sat up, tousling his already messy, raven-black hair with both hands. His temples throbbed slightly-not from pain, but from the abrupt mental whiplash of waking from something.

"I'm gonna throw it one day," he muttered bitterly.

Then, after a beat of annoyed silence, CLANK!

He did.

With one swift, instinctive motion, he yanked the offending clock off the nightstand and hurled it against the wall. It hit with a satisfying crack, the beeping silenced forever.

The room fell quiet again, aside from the distant chatter of morning birds and the faint hum of traffic outside.

He exhaled.

Then-

"Y/n! Are you awake?!" called a woman's voice from downstairs-sharp but caring, like a cymbal with a soft echo.

"Yeah, Mom! I'm awake!" he shouted back, already stumbling to his feet, still rubbing his eyes with one hand and feeling around with the other.

His room was... chaos.

Books scattered across the floor. Toys, Gaming consoles, glowing faintly.His school Uniform was tossed over his chair, wrinkled, and one shoe was missing in action.

"Come downstairs! Breakfast is ready! It's 7:30 already-you're going to be late for school at this rate!" his mother called again, this time more urgently.

Y/n froze.

7:30?

He turned his head to glance at the nightstand, seeking confirmation. Then remembered.

"...Right." He grimaced, staring at the broken remains of his digital clock. "That happened."

He swept the blanket off him in one motion and stood, looking around wildly. Then-a thought. The wall clock!

He turned toward it with hopeful desperation.

Dead.

The second hand wasn't ticking. The battery had died-probably weeks ago.

"Crap!" he hissed. "Why do I always forget to change the cells in that darn thing?!"

He moved fast now-frantic, spurred by panic. He grabbed the towel from his chair, tossed it over his shoulder, and made a beeline toward the bathroom. In his rush, his foot caught on something thick and heavy-

"Oof-!"

He stumbled forward, catching himself on the doorframe with a loud thud. He looked down.

"Easiest Way to Learn Trigonometry" glared up at him from the floor, mocking him with its bright yellow cover.

"Oh yeah? Easiest, my ass," Y/n grumbled, nudging the book aside with his foot before slipping into the bathroom.

After a while-

It had been ten minutes since Y/n had dragged himself out of bed and taken a brisk shower. His hair was still slightly damp, messy from the towel dry, and his uniform clung to him with the faint scent of soap.

He had already slipped on his school Uniform-albeit a bit wrinkled. But now, he stood in the middle of his room with an expression caught somewhere between confusion and irritation.

He was searching for something.

His phone.

"Y/n! How much later do you wanna be?!" his mom shouted from downstairs, her voice cutting through the house like a warning bell from on high.

"Mom! Have you seen my phone?!" Y/n called back, dropping to one knee as he checked under the bed. Dust bunnies. An old sock. A mysterious receipt. No phone.

"You left it charging in my room last night!" she replied.

Y/n froze, blinking once, then let out a long, soul-weary sigh.

"...Yeah... I forgot..." he muttered to himself, dragging a hand down his face.

He stood up, half-annoyed, half-defeated, and shuffled down the hallway toward his mom's room.

Sure enough, there it was-sitting on her nightstand, plugged in and at 100%, glowing faintly like it had been smugly waiting for him to remember its existence.

He picked it up and pressed the power button.

7:20 AM.

A thick, twitching tick mark appeared on his forehead.

"...Seriously?" he whispered to himself. "I panicked for nothing?!"

His eye twitched in frustration as he clenched his fists in comedic rage, resisting the urge to throw another electronic device today.

Just as he was about to storm off, his phone buzzed in his hand.

New Message Notification.

He blinked, the annoyance evaporating slightly as he tapped the screen.

Sender: Fuutarou Uesugi

Y/n smiled faintly at the name.

His only friend. His only rival.

They had met in their second year of junior high-two bookworms with zero social skills and a love for academic supremacy. From the moment they learned they were seated next to each other and shared the same study habits, it was on.

Rivals from day one.

But not the kind who hated each other. They were the kind who pushed each other. Y/n was always second, no matter how hard he tried. And Fuutarou? Always first. But that difference, that narrow margin, only made their bond stronger.

And now, Fuutarou had texted him... a lot.

Y/n opened the message thread and scrolled.

"Where are you?"

"I've been waiting in front of the school gate since 6:40."

"Are you even there?"

"Yo, you still alive, dude?"

"Hey, I heard we're getting a new transfer student today. You hear anything?"

"Goddammit, Y/n, just reply once. I sound like an attention seeker now!"

Y/n sweatdropped.

He chuckled softly, thumb hovering over the reply button as he muttered,

"Calm down, Fuutarou. I didn't die, I just... slept."

He quickly typed a reply:

"Chill, I'm alive. Just woke up late. Heading out in 10. Also... transfer student? Didn't hear a thing."

He paused, then added:

"Also, why the hell are you at school 50 minutes early? Planning on stealing test answers from the future?"

He hit send with a smirk.

A moment later, his phone buzzed again.

"Shut up. I got bored. Plus, early bird gets the better GPA."

"Don't be late or I'm eating your share of lunch."

Y/n grinned, pocketing the phone as he turned on his heel.

"Like hell I'll let that happen."

He then went downstairs toward the kitchen, still adjusting the strap of his school bag slung lazily over one shoulder. The smell of toast and warm eggs greeted him like a familiar hug-comforting and grounding.

He turned the corner and there she was-his mom.

Versa L/n.

She stood by the stove, her posture relaxed but precise, moving with the quiet efficiency of someone who had done this a thousand times. Her long, brown hair flowed down her back in waves, partially covering her face. It always draped over her eyes in that same gentle curtain, no matter how many times Y/n offered her a clip.

Somehow, she never needed to move it to see.

"Oh, Y/n. Morning." Her voice was calm, a little tired, but kind-like a gentle breeze brushing across your face. "Sit. I'll serve the breakfast now."

He gave a small nod and moved to the dining table, sliding into the usual seat near the window. The morning sun streamed in, casting golden patches across the kitchen tiles and warming the wood grain beneath his fingertips.

As he waited, he rested his chin on one hand and glanced sideways at his mom. She always moved with such quiet grace, like a dancer who forgot she was performing. There was no wasted motion, no sound beyond the soft clink of utensils and the occasional low hum she never seemed to realize she made while cooking.

He smiled faintly.

Despite the chaos of school, rivalry with Fuutarou, and the constant rush of mornings-this moment always stayed the same.

Versa turned, carrying a plate in one hand and a glass of juice in the other. She set them down gently in front of him-scrambled eggs, two slices of toast, and a few apple slices arranged in a neat fan shape.

"You remembered the apples this time," he said, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

She brushed her hair aside briefly-just enough to let one warm brown eye peek through. "Of course. You always eat them last. Like dessert."

He blinked, surprised. "...You noticed that?"

Versa gave him a small, knowing smile as she sat down across from him, resting her elbows lightly on the table and folding her hands. "I notice more than you think, Y/n."

He picked up a fork, his smirk fading into a more thoughtful expression. "You always say that."

"And you always act like it isn't true," she replied simply.

He glanced down at his plate and took a bite of the eggs. Perfectly fluffy, lightly seasoned-just how he liked them. The first real smile of the morning tugged at his lips.

"You make mornings less annoying," he said quietly, around a mouthful.

"That's what moms are for," she said with a slight shrug, rising from the table again to refill her coffee mug. "Besides, if I left you to your own devices, you'd be surviving off cup noodles and guilt."

"Not wrong."

As she took a sip of her coffee, she turned to look out the window, her expression thoughtful.

"Big day today?" she asked after a moment.

Y/n blinked. "Not really. I mean, Fuutarou texted me about some transfer student, but I haven't heard anything official."

Versa didn't respond immediately. She just hummed and took another sip.

"You know," she said eventually, "It's always the uneventful days that end up changing everything."

He paused mid-bite, eyes narrowing a little.

"...Why would you say something so weird first thing in the morning?"

She laughed softly, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Because I'm a mom. It's my job to say cryptic things that don't make sense until later."

He rolled his eyes but grinned. "You sound like an anime character."

"Don't act like you don't love it," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Fair enough," he conceded.

He finished his last bite of toast and downed the orange juice in one go, then stood and slung his bag back over his shoulder.

"I'm heading out."

Versa walked over, straightened the crooked edge of his shirt, and patted his chest.

"Try not to punch anyone today."

"No promises."

"Y/n..."

"Fine, fine. I'll be good," he said, waving her off as he stepped toward the door.

As he slipped on his shoes, Versa called out one last time, voice soft but firm.

"And don't forget-things are always changing, whether you notice or not."

He looked over his shoulder, curious. "...Seriously, what's with the ominous mom vibes today?"

But she only gave him a small, enigmatic smile and lifted her coffee cup in a quiet toast.

"Have a good day, sweetheart."

"...You too, Mom."

With that, Y/n stepped out the door and made his way towards the school.

After a while, Y/n stopped in front of a vending machine just a few blocks from school. The quiet hum of the street, the gentle breeze brushing past his uniform, and the soft chime of the vending machine's menu created a strangely peaceful moment.

He stood there for a second, hands in his pockets, eyes locked on his favorite morning drink-Matcha Soda.

It wasn't just a craving anymore. It was a ritual. A small, consistent piece of his day that made mornings feel less chaotic.

"Glad they haven't run out," he muttered as he inserted the coins. "Only one left..."

With a satisfied smirk, he pressed the button, and with a soft mechanical clunk, the can dropped into the tray. Y/n crouched, picked it up, and casually tossed it in the air before catching it one-handed with a small grin.

Then, without thinking, he turned around.

Thud.

Everything happened in a blur.

He collided with someone-hard enough to send both of them to the ground.

"Gah-crap, sorry! Didn't notice you," Y/n winced, rubbing the back of his head as he sat up.

A soft gasp escaped from the person he bumped into.

"It's okay... it was my fault," a calm voice replied.

Y/n froze for a second, his hand still on his head.

That voice-soft, emotionless, and distinctly feminine-made his eyes snap open in realization.

He turned toward the source and... his breath caught in his throat.

A girl sat on the pavement just across from him, brushing strands of red hair away from her face. She wore a school uniform different from his. A large pair of headphones rested comfortably around her neck, and her sapphire-blue eyes looked almost glassy beneath her emotionless expression. Her crimson hair, gently tousled, draped slightly over her right eye.

For a moment, the world slowed around Y/n.

His mind blanked, his mouth slightly open. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum. The sunlight hit her just right-like something out of a dream sequence.

His face instantly went red.

"...She's beautiful..."

But he shook the thought off quickly and scrambled to his feet.

"S-Sorry that I bumped into you!" he blurted, bowing slightly out of reflex, doing his best to maintain eye contact without turning to stone.

"It's okay. It was my fault too," the girl replied again, her voice as calm and monotone as before.

She stood up and casually dusted herself off, completely unfazed. Her posture was almost too relaxed-as if collisions with strangers were just another Tuesday for her.

Y/n's gaze dropped to the bag beside her.

"Oh, here-this must be yours." He picked it up and offered it to her with both hands.

"Thanks," she said simply, taking the bag from him. No smile, no irritation. Just... quiet politeness.

They stood there for a few moments in silence. Not awkwardly staring-but also not knowing what to say.

Y/n scratched the back of his head.

Okay... do something. Say something. This is getting awkward.

He cleared his throat. "Uhm... were you here to buy a drink?" he asked, breaking the silence as casually as he could.

The girl blinked, caught a little off guard by the sudden question. "Ah... yes. I was."

She stepped past him and looked at the vending machine. Her gaze paused on the empty slot where the Matcha Soda once sat. The little red "Sold Out" sticker glowed mockingly.

"...Oh," she said flatly, her expression unchanged-but her voice carried the faintest trace of disappointment.

Y/n immediately connected the dots.

Oh no... she was gonna buy the Matcha Soda...

"...Was it the Matcha Soda?" he asked cautiously.

She paused.

"...Yes."

Y/n glanced down at the cold can in his hand.

He sighed, a slight frown pulling at his lips.

"...Here. Take it." He extended the can toward her.

The girl blinked. "...Huh?"

"I... sorta cut in line unintentionally, and you were here for it. I can grab something else later." He looked away, a bit embarrassed. "I already got my 'one small win' today by catching it in midair anyway."

For a brief second, the girl's stoic mask faltered-her eyes widened slightly, and her lips parted just enough to almost form an "oh."

"...You don't have to," she said.

"I know," Y/n replied with a small smile. "But I want to."

She stared at the can in his hand for a moment before hesitantly reaching out and taking it.

"...Thanks," she said again, this time quieter.

He nodded. "No problem."

Another pause.

Y/n realized they still hadn't introduced themselves. And something about her presence made him... curious.

"I'm Y/n, by the way," he said. "Y/n L/n. You can call me Y/n. What about you?"

The girl looked at him for a moment, then softly replied,

"...Miku. Miku Nakano. You can call me Miku."

"Nice to meet you, Miku. And... sorry again for bumping into you earlier," Y/n said, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile.

Miku gave a small nod, still holding the Matcha Soda in her hand. "Nice to meet you too. And it's okay... it was my fault too."

She paused for a second, then tilted her head slightly.

"By the way, Y/n... are you a student from Asahiyama High?"

Y/n blinked. "Ah? Yeah, I am. How'd you know though?"

"I guessed it from your uniform," she replied calmly, her gaze briefly glancing over the school emblem stitched near his shoulder.

"Ah... right," Y/n chuckled. "Didn't think it was that obvious."

There was a short pause before Miku continued.

"Well... you see..." she began, a faint bit of hesitation in her voice, "I just transferred to Asahiyama High today. So... I was wondering... if maybe you could escort me to my classroom?"

Her voice was quiet-almost uncertain-and her eyes briefly looked away as if expecting him to refuse.

Y/n's eyes widened a bit in surprise.

"A transfer student, huh? Well, you are lucky then."

He gave her a reassuring grin.

"Sure. Don't worry-I'll show you to your classroom. All you have to do is follow me."

For a brief second, Miku's expression softened. The corners of her lips twitched upward, and her tense shoulders relaxed. A small breath escaped her lips-barely audible-but it was clear she was relieved.

Though, in the next instant, she quickly forced her neutral expression back into place, lowering her eyes again.

"...Thank you," she said softly, bowing her head politely.

"Ah-n-no problem!" Y/n stammered, waving his hands awkwardly in front of him. "You can raise your head, seriously! It's not like I did anything big."

A small sweatdrop formed on his forehead.

He wasn't used to girls bowing to him... or even talking to him so politely for that matter.

After a beat, he asked, "By the way, what class are you in?"

Miku straightened up and replied plainly, "I'm in Class 2-B."

After that Y/n started to guide her towards the Classroom 2-B

But

As they continued walking down the sidewalk, a gentle morning breeze passed by, brushing against their uniforms. Y/n glanced at Miku again-she was quietly sipping her Matcha Soda, her expression calm yet unreadable.

Wanting to break the silence, Y/n smiled and extended his hand toward her.

"Since we're going to be seeing each other more often now... let's start properly."

He looked her in the eye.

"I'm Y/n. I'm in Class 2-A, which means... our classes are right next to each other."

Miku paused mid-sip, blinking as her eyes shifted from the can in her hands to his outstretched hand.

For a moment, she simply stared at it.

Then, slowly, her lips curved into the faintest of smiles-barely noticeable, but there-and she placed her hand gently in his.

"Yeah... looks like it," she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Her hand was soft and cool, perhaps from holding the chilled soda, and her handshake was light-almost timid.

Y/n felt his heartbeat skip just a little.

"Well then," he said, gently letting go of her hand after a few seconds, "if you ever get lost, feel free to come to me. I know the school like the back of my hand."

"...Thanks," Miku replied. She lowered her eyes again, her cheeks just barely tinted pink.

Neither of them said anything for a moment after that.

But somehow, the silence now felt more... familiar.

Comfortable.

As they turned the corner, the school gates of Asahiyama High finally came into view, bustling with students heading in.

And then they both entered the School.