Author's Note:
Go Toubun no Hanayome is a special manga/anime to me because it's the first manga in about a decade that's managed to captivate me enough to sit down and binge all the chapters that were available in a single night. I'm not trying to argue "Quints Best Manga Evar" or project any such extreme opinions; rather, I hold this manga in very high regard because it's taken me back to some of the more nostalgic times when I was younger, back to the years when I was first discovering manga and anime in my degenerate path to becoming a filthy weeb.
I hold this manga in such high regard, in fact, that here I am, now starting a fanfiction about it.
Which is strange, because my usual "resume" of fanfictions, most too long or unfinished, couldn't be further from Quints from a genre perspective, but I guess that just goes to show you how much a simple harem manga done right can change a person. But that's for another time.
For the viewers' convenience on whether or not they want to bother spending the time to read this, I'd like to outline a few things that I intend for this fanfic:
The plot will include magic. Given my past history with other fanfics, you can say that this was going to be a given, but even I don't want magic to be the main focus of this particular fanfic. At most it'll be used as a plot device here and there, or so I intend - I hope that upon actually writing out this fic, it will stay as more of a background issue rather than a forefront one so that the fic itself can focus on the girls and Fuutarou and their interactions with each other and the rest of the cast, which is what made the original manga so magical in the first place.
This fic will for the most part follow the original manga's plot, but there will be key differences in how the events in the manga are portrayed or how they turn out. Naturally, certain characters will also be changed to possibly be different from how they're portrayed in the source material. Whether or not these changes live up to the manga's quality/standards is for you to decide.
On a related note, while this fic will try to follow the original manga's plot, some key plot points, devices, and identities will be revealed much, much sooner than they were in the manga. So if you haven't read the manga yet in its entirety so far for some strange reason, please do so before reading this fic, otherwise this fic might spoil the actual manga for you. Why are you even looking up fanfictions for this manga before you even caught up with the original, anyway.
And finally, this fanfic will have a noticeably more mature undertone. While it's also not my intention to turn this fic into a lemon in disguise, the direction I do intend to take this fic will inevitably run into some themes that the original manga may not touch upon, themes that are certainly more on the sensitive side of things. As such, this could take the fic in a direction that readers may not agree with, as if my decision to include magic in some form into this fic wasn't already a big enough turn-off to begin with.
Thanks for your understanding in advance.
Warmth.
And golden light. Blurred by the windowpane, bleeding through from the late afternoon sky outside.
Such a rare luxury, and so little time to enjoy it, Fuutarou thinks to himself. Though, even as he says this, he himself is standing off to the side, outside of the mellow, gentle touch of the thick, golden sunlight that pours into the room and the wooden floor beneath his feet.
Leaning against the wall next to the sliding window door, Uesugi Fuutarou stands with his arms folded and his eyes closed. He's not sleeping, though, and he isn't trying to, either, as much as he's been teased for being able to fall fast asleep either standing up or sitting down on a park bench.
Apart from the warmth of the dreamily intoxicating late afternoon sunlight, it's also a rare luxury for Fuutarou to have any semblance of time alone, time that he has all to himself. "Busy" would be underselling all the things that have been happening lately, but perhaps everything that has happened thus far was only to be expected.
And speaking of so little time, the past three years have rocketed by in a flash, now that he briefly dwells on it. He'd already gotten the sense of how fast time was flying by, but it's only now, now that he's finally got this precious little bit of time to himself, which he should be using more productively rather than for self-reflection, that he realizes just how fast everything has happened.
Of course time would speed by during the years that he's had the most fun in his life. And the bad news is that he doesn't foresee it slowing down any time soon.
Then again, if that's how it is, is it really bad news by this point?
On his left ring finger sits a very painfully plain wedding band. Even to this day, his sense of extreme frugality lingers, despite the obvious fact that he can afford to shed such frugality now.
But yet, it's not something he wants to shed so soon. Certainly this is the beginning of a new chapter in his life, but there's nothing that says that he ought to rush into it. Though, to be fair, when he told this to his father, he simply laughed in his face for having such a contradictory thought. He's finally growing up, Fuutarou remembers his father telling him a bit begrudgingly at the wedding party. So maybe he really ought to barge into his new married life like a wrecking ball.
On second thought, that's still not a good idea, he'd get slapped silly for it.
Embarrassing wedding stories aside, Fuutarou doesn't want to shed that aspect of himself so soon. A plain wedding ring, so painfully plain that it almost made his father-in-law disown him on the spot for how pathetically plain it was, is the perfect memento to himself of how things used to be. After all, everybody has to start somewhere, and things had to be a certain way in the past for things to be another way in the present, or even the future.
Plain. Cheap. Aggressive. Menacing. Dull. Just like the ring he bears, Fuutarou is fully aware that he himself has not changed much since then. All of the mirrors in the house would agree with him on this sentiment, and all of the Fuutarou's that live in them would also agree. But eventually he, too, will have to change, if only even slightly.
And that is where the ring he bears plays its role. When times change, when people change, when situations change, so long as he keeps it safe and dear to his heart, just like how he'd placed it at the wedding, this ring will not. The whole world may change, but this one ring will not. Fuutarou will see to it that it won't.
For it encapsulates everything that has happened in his life up until now, a special culmination of thoughts, emotions, fears, reliefs, worries, joys, and experiences. Perhaps this applies to anyone who has recently gotten married, but to Fuutarou, it is more so, as generic as that may sound. It's honestly much more than one simple ring alone can embody, so it's quite the daunting task for poor Fuutarou's wedding ring.
But it will fulfill its duty; Fuutarou is confident in it. Besides, he's already made up his mind that he'll see to it that it fulfills its duty. And when all is said and done, it will remain as a strong, happy reminder of the transition he would have to undergo now, at this point in time.
Before he realizes what he's doing, Fuutarou raises his left hand up to his face – and gently brushes his lips against the ring.
"Congratulations on your wedding."
Fuutarou lowers his hand slowly, returning it to how it was while he had his arms crossed, leaning against the wall behind him. It's not because of the voice he hears speaking to him nearby that he lowers his hand, necessarily, but either way, the visitor he's expecting is here, it seems.
"Thank you," he answers quietly and curtly. Fuutarou doesn't bother looking in the direction of this second voice to see who it is.
"If you'd told me about it, I would've liked to attend. But you didn't, so..."
"You know why I didn't invite you, though."
"That's true. Someone you've barely ever talked to doesn't deserve to be at your wedding, after all."
"It's not exactly that, it's just that...you would've attracted too much attention."
"Attention, huh. You still think about those times? Ten years ago, that is."
"Nine years, you boomer."
"Boomer? Oh, it's what the kids are saying these days to older folks, huh..."
Fuutarou pushes himself off the wall softly to stand on his own, still with his arms crossed. He also opens his eyes, but he keeps them pinned down at the wooden floor beneath his feet.
"But sometimes, yeah, I think about those times still. I have to, in order to ascertain where I am now."
"Then I'm honored. Even if it's something you force yourself to do."
"Honored by something someone who you barely talked to nine years ago did? That's not like you."
"Neither is you getting married in the first place, but I wouldn't have brought it up if you didn't force my hand, y'know?"
Fuutarou holds his tongue, for he has nothing to say to this.
"But regardless – you did well, kid. I didn't expect for you to've gotten this far – now look at you: newlywed, fantastic career, and a proud family. Best of all, you've pulled your own father and sister out of poverty finally. It's not everyone I meet who turns out like this, as you can imagine. So to be able to see this, the kind of success story that you've made for yourself that you see once probably every other decade...it's a sight for sore eyes, for sure."
Raising his gaze finally, Fuutarou straightens his back in his blue polo shirt and jeans to face his visitor with a hard look in his menacing eyes that give off the vibes of a hard-boiled street thug.
"This is just a guess, but – you didn't come here just to give me some kind words, did you?" he says with chilling calmness that, for a brief moment, drains the warmth right out of the sunlight before him.
"Haha...I remember that passive-aggressiveness well, if nothing else. But no, of course not - that being said, though, there's nothing wrong with offering some verbal niceties to a boy I haven't seen in almost a decade, is there?"
"Maybe not, but you're more interested in that deal we made back then."
"Naturally. And so if you remember all that, you should also remember what I'm here for...what I'm here to collect, as was our deal."
Fuutarou nods slowly. He glances down at his hands, his left hand -
- and removes his wedding ring.
"...so that's what you'll give me, huh..."
"It's the best I can offer," Fuutarou says icily, handing the ring to his guest after he makes sure to wipe it clean with the edge of his polo shirt, and his visitor receives it and inspects it closely.
"...this is one plain fucking ring, kid. You live in a place like this now and you still can't afford anything better?"
"I give you my wedding ring and that's the first thing you say? Who are you, my father-in-law?"
"You already have one, if I'm not mistaken. So instead, since I made you a offer you couldn't refuse back then, call me your...Godfather."
A short silence ensues as Fuutarou's visitor continues to inspect his ring.
"Alright then, kid. Like we agreed...start from the beginning, the beginning that this ring of yours symbolizes. Tell me everything."
Again, Fuutarou closes his eyes. The memories stored in his mind rush forth upon his visitor's request, filling his inner vision as he takes a step into the golden sunlight that wraps him with the warmth that his memories bring to his heart...
"Have a good night, Uesugi-san."
"Same to you. Sorry for the intrusion as always."
The chilly night air greets a young man as he exits the sliding doors of the hospital's alternate entrance, after he bids farewell for the day to a passing nurse. Strange for the weather to be this chilly at this time of the year, the boy notes to himself as he stops briefly outside the sliding doors.
Wearing a relatively deflated backpack and the most basic boy's school uniform you could imagine consisting of nothing more than a plain white collared button-up and black dress pants, he adjusts his pair of Audio-Technica ATH-WS990BT's properly over his ears and reaches into his left pocket to pull out his smartphone.
Once he's set the music he wants and the earcups of his headphones begin their work for the night escapade, Uesugi Fuutarou slips his phone back into his pocket and turns to his left to walk down the sidewalk of the road which leads down further into the emergency care ward behind him.
"I don't have a leg to stand on...spinning like a whirlwind, nothing to land on..."
Humming along to the song playing in his headphones in English for several of the lyrics, Fuutarou ceases his humming quickly, as these are the first set of lyrics and he'd rather not be heard humming some weird song in English to himself in the middle of the night. Not because his English pronunciation is off or anything - as a matter of fact, it's fluent and contains almost no accent – he'd just rather not bring any unnecessary attention to himself.
On second thought, exactly how much "attention" he can garner just for humming along to a song is up to debate.
The first-year high school student walks briskly through the streets of the city, maintaining a cold, expressionless face that changes only to blink or to watch for traffic at pedestrian intersections. With only his music and his knowledge of the downtown to guide him, he weaves through the city silently, like a ghost, leaving behind no trace of his existence wherever he treads.
The first year of high school has recently started barely a week ago, so naturally there are quite a few things on Fuutarou's mind. Classes, homework, agenda...as he'd only recently moved back in from living abroad for about half a year, finally being able to settle down for the first time in a long time is a welcome relief that will bring at least some semblance of stability with which he can use to organize his new high school life.
School life, huh. Fuutarou lets out a deep sigh at the thought.
An hour after he departs the hospital, Fuutarou arrives at a small and somewhat neglected business park. Its parking lot is covered in cracks of all sizes, with weeds and other plants that can commonly be found growing in urban areas growing quite happily in them. The two-story office building that solely makes up this business park sheepishly boasts a similar tale: fading and flaking paint, missing kanji from names of businesses that once called this park home, and colorful, stylistic, and flamboyant rakugaki layered along the walls of the more accessible first story.
The sorry remnants of once-flourishing entrepreneurship aren't enough to dissuade Fuutarou from walking onto the business park's grounds, passing the park's dilapidated sign that sports the name "DAIKAZOKU BUSINESS PARK". Its directory underneath the name, once filled, now humbly displays but one name: "Uesugi Consulting, Inc."
Going up the creaky stairs and heading to his destination, Fuutarou knocks calmly at the door of the only office in the whole structure that has a window with a light in it. A security camera fixed near the short roof of the building above the door stares down at the boy with quiet impunity, but Fuutarou simply ignores it, for after a short moment, a rather loud and screechy buzz rattles out of the intercom above the door too, with a young girl's voice blaring down at him to boot.
"Good evening, Onii-chan! I'll be right there, I was making dinner!"
Fuutarou remains silent, knowing that the intercom is one-way only, and sure enough, he can hear the small pitter-pattering of feet against hard flooring approaching him from the inside of the office. The door emits another very loud buzzing noise, indicating that the door is now unlocked, and Fuutarou takes the initiative this time and opens the door to reveal a small girl with a ridiculously oversized cowlick that couldn't be possible to have without criminally excessive use of hair gel, but there it is.
"Good evening, Raiha," Fuutarou nods down at the girl, who first dives at him to give him a big hug before smiling brightly back and retreating into the office to let her brother inside, who closes the door firmly shut behind him as he enters.
"Yo!" a tall, somewhat burly man with blonde hair and shades riding on his scalp calls over, turning in his worn-out swivel chair that's at least two sizes smaller than what's comfortable for him to gesture a casual two-finger salute to his guest. "Raiha's making dinner, want some?"
"Raiha just told me, but yeah, I'll have some."
Tossing his backpack lightly onto a musty couch near the front door, Fuutarou, having pulled down his headphones, fiddles with his phone quickly to pause the music. The office is surprisingly spacious for what it is; it's perhaps more like a small suite, except for the fact that everything inside seems dingy and used beyond reason. The furniture is visibly old, chipped, dented, or outright missing some pieces; the walls are flaking in some areas and have exposed drywall in others.
"So how was your first week at high school? Exciting, huh? I bet it was," the blonde man in his Hawaiian shirt grins widely at Fuutarou momentarily before turning back to the screen of his laptop.
"Not particularly, it's just school," Fuutarou shrugs simply. "Maybe you had it different, Isanari."
"Sure did! I was a little shit back then," Isanari laughs heartily, still typing away his laptop.
"You still are, to be honest."
"And you're not wrong! And I wouldn't have it any other way. But still, be nice to your employer every once in a while, will ya?"
"And you're saying I'm not? I guess that means you've got enough money to start buying your own equipment and computers, then."
"Aaaaaahhhh, okay, okay okay okay, Fuutarou-sama, I apologize, I didn't mean it that way."
Fuutarou simply snorts under his breath, leaning against the wall next to Isanari's desk and folding his arms calmly. "Any news? I haven't been here for a week due to school, and you haven't updated me yet on anything."
"There wasn't, for the most part," Isanari shakes his head. "No new jobs so far...the contracts I've gotten are all small, nothing big yet, stuff that I can handle on my own. Buuuut..."
"But?"
"I did get an email from one of my ol' buddies from high school, coincidentally. It's gonna be a long-term contract, though, and I'm not sure if you're gonna be willing to accept."
"Never know until I hear it. What's it about?"
"Hold on, lemme send this one email out real quick..."
The scrumptious smell of curry rice is filling the air of the office as Fuutarou waits for Isanari to finish what he's working on. As much as he can appreciate the smell of well made curry, Fuutarou stops leaning against the wall to open the office's windows for ventilation.
"The curry's almost done!" Raiha calls out from the kitchen, having to use a small stool to be able to reach up to the stove safely.
"We're almost done too, Raiha-chan," Isanari replies, sending out his email and then pulling up the one he wanted to talk to Fuutarou about, nudging his laptop to face Fuutarou's direction so he can read it properly. "So it's this one. It's from my buddy Maruo, I think you've already met him once or twice, right?"
"Yeah. Though, it's a bit surprising that he's contacting you about something in regards to me..."
"Just read it. I would've forwarded this to you directly, but I thought it'd be best for you to come here and see it."
"Hm. You're lucky I decided to stop by tonight, then."
"Lemme guess, it's because you wanted to see your Foster dad, huh?"
"No, it was for Raiha's cooking."
"So you're saying Raiha's cooking is better than my contracting?!"
"I thought that was implied."
As Isanari grovels in mock pain and Raiha giggles gleefully from the kitchen, Fuutarou scans the email on Isanari's laptop. The more he reads it, though, the more furrowed his eyebrows become and the more incredulous his expression turns.
"Your eyesight going now or what?" Isanari remarks slightly worriedly, noticing Fuutarou's marked change in facial expression. "Just so you know, we don't have the money to get you prescription glasses, that's on your end."
"What, can't put it on the house?"
"Hey, it might be my dream to one day own my own casino, but that's not the reality I live in right now."
"Oh good, good to know you aren't always letting your brain fly off to Tokyo every other day..."
"What's Tokyo got to do with anything?"
"Okaaaay, Dad, Onii-chan, dinner's ready!"
The sudden clanging of silverware causes Isanari to jolt in his seat in surprise, while Fuutarou simply turns around to see what the fuss that Raiha is making is about, which simply turns out to be Raiha banging her ladle against a pot lid right behind them.
"Sorry, Raiha, we're done now. Isanari, get the table out," Fuutarou says quickly, following the swift-footed Raiha to the nearby kitchen to help her serve the portions onto their dishes. With a hearty grunt of agreement, Isanari also hops out of his undersized swivel chair and opens a nearby closet to pull out a small, foldable dinner table to set it up on the floor near the couches, in between them and Isanari's office desks.
Working together to set the table, Isanari, Fuutarou, and Raiha quickly and efficiently place the chopsticks, spoons, plastic cups of clean water from the water filter, and dishes of Raiha's house-famous curry on the table, moving and coordinating as though they've done this thousands of times before. In just forty seconds, the family goes from discussing business and making dinner to sitting at their humble folding dinner table on the floor, ready to eat.
"Itadakimasu."
And so begins another simple dinner in the Uesugi household.
"So what do you think about that contract?"
It's the men's turn on dish duty, not that there are many dishes to wash in the first place. But for the sake of allowing Raiha to start her homework in a timely fashion, and to make up for the fact that he hasn't been around lately due to his own school activities and agenda, Fuutarou has assumed responsibility for the cleanliness of the dishes, and Isanari has joined him shortly to assist. So together, the two men stand at the kitchen sink, scrubbing and rinsing away.
"It's a tutoring gig," Fuutarou murmurs uncertainly, his eyes fixated on the last dish that he needs to scrub as dishsoapy water drips from the plate down into the sink. "Can't say I've seen a contract like that before."
"But you're smart, kid. Something like a tutoring gig should be a walk in the park."
Fuutarou hands Isanari the last plate, which the latter rinses off thoroughly underneath the sink faucet.
"But for a whole year?" Fuutarou balks somewhat, watching his fellow dishwashing coworker rinse the last plate for the night. "Why's it gotta be a whole year for what should just be a tutoring job? And not to mention, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense for people to be looking around for tutors at this time of the year when school literally started last week."
"Kid, seriously, what does it matter, you read what Maruo said down at the bottom, didn't you? Five times the standard tutoring rate in this area!" Isanari exclaims enthusiastically, waving the rinsed plate at Fuutarou and inadvertently flicking some sink water at him. "Not to mention, it's better that it's a long term contract. Maruo's a buddy of mine, like I said, so if you take it, it's not likely he'll terminate the contract early. It's a stable source of income!"
"That might be, but you know how I feel about long-term contracts like this. More importantly, we already know how they can end up, potentially."
"Okay, those past times I get where you're coming from. But you have to admit that this isn't like our typical contracts. You read the contract terms too, right? You don't even need to be that good at it; all you gotta do is just make sure those girls don't completely fail and flunk out."
Giving a deep sigh, Fuutarou folds his arms and rolls his eyes slowly to the left.
"And not just one student, but five?" he grumbles through lightly clenched teeth. "Yeah, no wonder it's five times the current rate..."
"They're quintuplets, by the way."
Fuutarou just stares at Isanari for a full half a minute.
"...don't stare at me like they're mine, Fuutarou," Isanari says cautiously, taking a step backwards away from Fuutarou's piercing stare. "I'm just the messenger, okay? Think of Raiha..."
"Oh, yeah, I'm thinking about her – about how unfortunate she is to have such a dumb father like you."
"Onii-chan, please don't be too mean to Dad, okaaaaay?" Raiha calls from the dinner table, which, after Raiha has cleaned it after dinner, is now repurposed as Raiha's homework table.
"Yeah, kid, don't be so mean to your father," Isanari snickers, jabbing Fuutarou in his folded arms, but he drops his playful grin momentarily to jerk his thumb towards the direction of the door. Fuutarou nods silently, and the two men wipe down the countertop to finish their kitchen duties for the night. Afterwards, Isanari grabs his old smartphone from his desk and heads for the door, with Fuutarou in tow.
"Raiha, Fuutarou and I'll be outside for a sec," the father calls to his daughter, who responds with an amiable "Okaaaaayy ~", and the two men step outside and head down the rickety stairs, where they stop and loiter next to an ancient ash tray standing next to the equally as old waste and recycling bins.
"Still don't know when to give it up, do you," Fuutarou mutters, watching his father pull out a pack, flick one of the cigarettes inside out, and use his pocket lighter to ignite it.
"Hey, you know what they say, old habits die hard," Isanari mutters back. He's about to stow his cigarette pack back into his rear pocket, but he then holds it out to Fuutarou. "Want one?"
"Offering cigarettes to minors, are we, now."
"Bullshit, kid. If there's any minor in this world who can smoke cigs legally, it's you."
"You have a great way of making things that should be illegal sound a lot less illegal."
"So am I a modern day poet, you think? Should I change my name to Asukai Masaari?"
"Not in the good sense, but maybe if that's what makes you feel better about yourself...and no, please don't change your name, you'll embarrass yourself even more."
Isanari chuckles, exhaling his first puff of cigarette smoke into the late evening air, illuminated mainly by the forlorn, dim light from one of the dingy lamps of the building nearby. Fuutarou watches the cigarette breath linger in the chilly night air, then disappear, leaving only its noxious scent behind.
"I assume this new contract you got from Nakano is the reason why you called me here tonight," Fuutarou says as Isanari enjoys his cigarette. "So mind filling me in on what that email didn't tell me?"
"Hmph. Sharp as ever, kid," Isanari nods slowly while raising his cigarette back up to his lips for another puff.
"You always say you'll never doubt me again, but then you say stuff like this that suggests otherwise..."
"Haha, my bad, my bad."
Isanari lowers his cigarette, and now it's his turn to lean against the nearby wall, joining Fuutarou to form the two-man Arm-Fold Brigade.
"Maruo believes his daughters' lives might be in danger," Fuutarou's father reveals. "This whole tutoring thing is just a cover-up, an excuse to make sure that there's someone who's close by and can make sure that none of the girls end up in trouble, or get them out of it if they do."
Isanari pauses.
"Well, no, that's not entirely true. The quints really are potential school dropouts," he corrects himself. "So they seriously do need a tutor to make sure they don't outright fail high school, apparently, as Maruo suspects they might."
"So it's an even more perfect cover-up story."
"Yeah, pretty convenient how that worked out, honestly."
"Then what are the terms?"
"Most of it's like what you read in the email: it'll start as a year-long contract, you tutor all five girls and make sure nothing bad happens to them, and unlike most contracts, for this one, Maruo's agreed to pay you directly."
"Pay me directly...you're not getting involved at all, then?"
Isanari shakes his head. "I would, but Maruo specifically requested that I stay out of this, that this should be yours alone to handle. He said he figures it'd be easier for you that way."
"But you know I'm still giving you part of the cut."
"Nah, it's fine, keep everything. I already have a ton of contracts active on my own end."
Maybe he'll make sure to buy Raiha something nice every month or something, Fuutarou thinks to himself.
"Then tell me the context for this. What's going on?"
"Ah, right. So yesterday, Maruo was informed that the butler who usually looks after the quints was found dead outside their high-rise; a night patrol officer happened to drive by his car and found him."
"Cause of death?"
"Stab wound through the back of the head, probably through the brain stem first. Clean stab, butler probably died instantly. Whoever did it knew what he was doing. Maruo thinks whoever did it tried to pose as the butler, because he was found without his uniform on. My guess is that they took his uniform in an attempt to pose as the quints' butler and tried to wait it out in his car, just in case the quints came back for anything, but luckily for them, they didn't, so either he left on his own or left when he saw the police officer coming around on patrol."
"Do the quints know about this?"
"No. And it's good you mentioned that, because Maruo specifically wants me to tell you to keep your bodyguarding lowkey. Ideally they should never find out that they're being targeted by someone."
"And what if they do find out?" Fuutarou asks sternly. "I've done solo, duo, and even a few trio escorts before. But five clients, at the same time, for a whole year – there's too much room for error."
"Well, that's why their father specifically requested you. You're the best we have, you know."
"Hard not to be the best when I'm all you have."
Isanari laughs shortly. "And we don't call you the Silent Pride of the Uesugi for nothing, either!"
"Stop calling me that, damn it, it's goddamn corny as hell."
"Fine, fine. But yeah, that's all we know for now, it's up to you to take care of the rest. You're scheduled for your first tutoring session tomorrow after school at four in the afternoon; Maruo did say that as far as the tutoring's concerned, you have free rein to do whatever it takes to get the girls to not flunk out, barring anything illegal or against school rules, of course."
"Hang on, I didn't say anything about accepting this contract or not."
Taking one final puff of his cigarette, Isanari presses what's left of it into the old ash tray firmly to put it out.
"Well, this is Maruo we're talking about here, Fuutarou," Isanari says calmly, and his voice is missing its signature hearty and jovial tone when he says this. "The fact that he's specifically requested you to handle this...I don't think you're in a position to refuse, are you?"
Grimacing, Fuutarou holds his usually sharp tongue in response this time.
"Puaaaaahhhh ~ finally, we're back home..."
"I knooowwww...why did we have to tour the entire school at once!? And in one afternoon, too! We should tell Papa to tell the principal off or something!"
"But Nino, you were the one who said you'd rather tour the whole school at once just to get it over with..."
"I-I didn't expect our new school to be that big! It's just a normal public high school, right? It's not like Black Rose where it's a private one!"
"But what does our old school being private or not have to do with anything..."
"Aw, cheer up, you guys! I could go for another school tour, that was fun~!"
"Then feel free to tour it again, Yotsuba..."
"Agh! But it's no fun by myself, you know!"
"Nino, I am positively starving after all the walking we did today, there wouldn't happen to be leftovers, would there? I'll take anything...!"
"Oh for God's sake, you come back and food's the first thing on your mind!? But yes, there is still some leftover fried rice I made earlier this morning for our lunches today, just take the plastic wrap off the pan and heat it up on the stove..."
"Oh my God, thank you, thank you, Nino!"
"S-Stop, I-Itsuki, stop, don't hug me like I saved your life or something - "
"Oh, oh, me too, me too! Nino, your fried rice today was super duper extra delicious today, thank youuuuuu!"
"Aaaaaaggggghh, not you too, Yotsuba! Yotsuba, Itsuki! Listen to me, damn it!"
"Aw, just relax, Nino. You're the only one who knows how to properly cook among us, after all. We should be thanking you for all this time that you've been cooking for us."
"I-It's only natural, isn't it?! No need to overreact or anything like this – oh, fine, whatever, I'm over it already..."
"There, there..."
"I didn't say I wanted headpats from you, Miku, knock it off."
Five identical teenage quintuplet girls have just returned home late at night, thoroughly exhausted from their extensive touring of the campus of their new high school. Two of them are tightly squeezing another with their grateful embraces, sandwiching her with loving impunity, while the other two are looking on with varied degrees of amusement.
"Then that is enough of that. Time for the fried rice!" Itsuki, the youngest quintuplet, characterized by her apparently immense appetite and the two yellow star-shaped hairclips she wears, pulls herself away from her older sisters and marches to the kitchen in search of the plastic-covered pan with the leftover fried rice.
"You should seriously learn how to cook for yourself if you're gonna eat that much, Itsuki!" Nino, the second quintuplet, who is distinguishable by her pair of brightly colored butterfly-shaped hair ribbons and her dominant cooking ability, calls after her youngest sister.
"Aw c'mon, Nino, you already know what happens if you try to get the rest of us to cook," Ichika, the eldest, identifiable because of her neatly short and round hair, single earring on her right ear, and her constant yawning, sits up on the long couch slowly, having plopped down on it belly-first upon first arriving home. "As a matter of fact, the only other one who even has any semblance of cooking experience would be you, Miku."
"But you already know how it is...I can't compare to Nino," Miku shakes her head, holding her left arm submissively. The middle of the quintuplets, she is perhaps the most stand-out of among her sisters due to her blue ATH-AR3BT Audio-Technica headphones with tri-point emblems on the cups around her neck and, ironically, her quiet, passive personality.
"It's okay, Miku, you'll improve! I believe in you! At least, you'll do better than an idiot like me who makes way too much rice!" Yotsuba, the fourth quintuplet known for her seemingly endless energy and the four-leaf clover-like hair ribbon straddling the top of her head, pumps her arms animatedly at Miku in appropriate fashion.
"Calling yourself an idiot won't do you any favors, Yotsuba," Miku replies. "It certainly doesn't work for me, either."
"Aha, then that makes two of us!" Yotsuba responds with the same animated air about her, this time diving in for a hug with her older sister. "We can be idiots together, then! It'll be fun!"
"Mmmuu, don't wanna..." Miku puffs up her lips and pouts, but she lets Yotsuba hug her affectionately anyway.
"Ichika, there weren't any packages or anything for us at our door, were there?" Nino asks the eldest sister, who shakes her head.
"Not when we came in, no."
"Hm, that means our new school uniforms aren't here then. They were supposed to be here by now..."
"Ah, that's right, Ebata-san was supposed to have delivered them to us," Itsuki calls from the kitchen, waiting for the stove to warm up the fried rice in the pan.
"Ebata-san...speaking of him, we haven't seen him in a bit, haven't we..." Yotsuba remarks. "Maybe he's busy helping out Dad?"
"Could be, but then again, he was supposed to be the one to take us to our new school..." Ichika points out. "But he's always busy with something, maybe he got a schedule change and he just couldn't deliver our new uniforms to us on time."
"Then that means...we'll have to go to school tomorrow with our Black Rose uniforms..." Miku murmurs, clearly troubled by the thought.
"We can just call Papa to have the school know what's going on. He's got connections, remember?" Nino shrugs. "In the meantime, until we can arrange for us to get new uniforms, we can just wear something over our old ones. We're technically transfer students, after all, so it shouldn't be out of the ordinary for us to show up in our old uniforms because we didn't get our new ones yet."
Easing herself down onto the smaller couch perpendicular to the two long couches nearby, Nino lets out a breath of relief after finally being able to give her tired feet a well-deserved rest before pulling out her phone.
"But still, a new school, huh..." Ichika lets her head lean back over the top of the couch, as she closes her eyes again, wanting to go back to sleep. "Well, not as if we haven't been through this before."
"Imagine all the new friends we can make! All the new clubs we can join! All the new memories waiting for us!" Yotsuba exclaims giddily, squeezing Miku's left arm even harder since she still hasn't let her sister go.
"Y-Yotsuba, my arm, my arm, my arm, my arm - !" Miku cries helplessly as Yotsuba subconsciously continues to body-squeeze her arm in between her breasts.
"Yotsuba, please let Miku go," Itsuki sternly calls from the kitchen, in the middle of piling the heated leftover fried rice onto a plate.
"Oh! OmigoshImsosorry!" Yotsuba quickly relinquishes Miku's poor arm. "S-Sorry, Miku, I went off and did it again..."
"I-It's okay...I'm used to it..."
Chuckling from the couch as she looks on, Ichika smiles towards her younger sisters. "Unlucky that Yotsuba happens to be the one who likes squeezing other people's arms whenever she gets excited, huh?" she remarks amicably.
"Mmmmmuuu! What's that supposed to mean, Ichika!" Yotsuba pouts just like Miku towards Ichika.
"Well, you're the most athletic out of us, right? So it just makes sense that you'll be the strongest out of us physically."
"It's even more obvious if we compare our arms side by side..." Miku says quietly, rolling up her left sleeve of her blue cardigan first and then doing the same for Yotsuba's short right sleeve. Indeed, the difference between their biceps is night and day; while still reasonably slim and beautiful, Yotsuba's is markedly more developed and defined than Miku's.
"A-Ahaha – well - " Yotsuba lets out some awkward chuckles but hastily rolls her own sleeve back down, even though doing this doesn't exactly hide her arm's muscles entirely.
"It's okay to be proud of them. After all, it's what you have that we don't..." Miku says, trying to reassure her younger sister.
"Yeah, but...it, it still feels a bit e-embarrassing if someone points it out to me like that, you know...?"
While Miku and Yotsuba are conversing on their own and Itsuki is busy wolfing down her reheated leftover fried rice, Ichika realizes that Nino, usually one to join in on any conversation among her sisters, is noticeably absent from any such discourse and so glances over to see what she's up to.
"...Nino? Is something wrong?" Ichika asks, her voice growing concerned at the look on her younger sister's face.
At both the sound of Ichika's concerned tone and its contents, the three other sisters, sensing something wrong, immediately hurry over to the couch to check on Nino, including Itsuki, who brings her plate of fried rice with her. Ichika herself leans forward where she sits on the couch, and when she notices her siblings looking down at Nino's phone screen, she, too, gets up to cop a look. Altogether, the sisters take a moment to read the very long text that Nino has received and was reading.
"EEEEEEEEEHHHHHH? ? ? ? ?"
The quintuplets' flat vibrates with the combined unison of their surprised and shocked voices.
"Papa assigned us a t-t-tutor!?" Nino finally bursts out, having somehow managed to keep her own shock ballooned inside until all of her sisters got a chance to read the text that their father has sent them. Now her sisters are all checking their own phones, and sure enough, all of them have received the same exact text from their father via group text. "What the hell, this is such a – such a load of shit! He always fucking does this! Tossing us here, giving us that, just because he thinks it's good for us! And now we have to put up with a fucking tutor?!"
"Calm down, Nino. Besides, let's not kid ourselves, we probably should've seen this coming, right?" Ichika, ever the level-headed quintuplet, provides the emotional counterweight to Nino's outburst yet again. "Let's not forget the reason why we had to switch schools to begin with."
A heavy air of discomfort hangs over the sisters at Ichika's reality-imposing words.
"I-I won't argue with you on that, but we specifically told Papa that we'll make sure to bring our grades up on our own after we made the decision to transfer!" Nino continues to fume, now back up on her feet in her anger and facing Ichika. "He didn't even give us any time at least to prove ourselves!"
"To be fair, he never agreed to give us time or anything like that..." Miku quietly points out.
"And he's always let us do whatever we wanted for the most part," Yotsuba joins in. "He's not doing this to get on our nerves, Nino, he's doing this because he wants to help us improve our grades. At least, that's what I think."
"Then let me ask you, Yotsuba," Nino pivots over to the fourth quint, "are you okay with a tutor coming in every day?"
"E-Eh? M-Me? Ah, well, uh, that's - "
"See? You're not even sure either. And what about the rest of you? Do you agree with this?" Nino surveys her fellow quints, her sharp, piercing blue eyes demanding immediate answers from the rest.
"Ah...well, um..." Ichika can't help but avert her eyes too. "I-I'll admit that...having a tutor might be a bit of an issue for my, uh, agenda..."
"...I'm undecided, too. It is a bit sudden..." Miku agrees softly, her eyes naturally dropping down to the floor by Nino's feet.
"I am not against the idea of a tutor, but...I also agree that this is a bit sudden. Father should have given us a bit more time. How long ago did he text you, Nino?" Itsuki asks before shoveling another spoonful of fried rice into her mouth.
"Let's see...earlier this afternoon, while we were still touring the school," Nino answers, checking her phone again before showing Itsuki, who quickly scans the text a second time.
"It certainly seems like Father has already made his mind up about this," Itsuki thinks aloud. "Our new tutor is coming in tomorrow at four in the afternoon, huh? Why don't we at least give it a shot? That way, if it does not work out, we can tell Father honestly that a tutor may not be the best thing for us, at least not so soon."
"I'm telling you, it's not gonna do anything," Nino grumpily folds her arms, too, after stowing away her phone in her pocket. "This's just a normal high school we've transferred to, right? Can't be harder than Black Rose, no way! And besides!"
Taking a few steps away from the rest of her family in between the long couches and turning around, Nino plants her feet firmly against the carpet and jabs her right index finger at the rest of her sisters.
"This is our problem! We should be able to resolve it ourselves! We don't need an outsider to come in and help us fix what should be our issues!" Nino declares emphatically. "That's how we've always done it, haven't we? No need to change it now! Even despite what Papa thinks, too!"
None of the sisters have anything to say back to Nino initially.
"Well, that's...certainly easier said than done..." Ichika sighs quietly, closing her eyes again in drowsiness.
"Then care to explain yourself, Ichika?" Nino challenges. "What do you mean by that, exactly?"
"Hm, for one, Itsuki's right on this when she said that Dad's probably made up his mind for good. And you know what happens if we try going against him on something he's already decided..."
Ichika reopens her heavy eyelids, her own vivid blue eyes gazing up at the ceiling this time.
"For two, let's be real here for a second, our grades are downright terrible. Any parent would want to get a tutor for their children if they were underperforming as much as we are. Maybe if we weren't exactly failing and still able to get passing marks, sure, we could have a solid argument for why we don't need a tutor, but that's really not the case."
Nino winces at the word "failing".
"And for three, you talk about how this is our problem and whatnot, Nino, but to play devil's advocate, none of us except for Itsuki's ever really put in the effort to study that much, if at all. We've all spent our time doing whatever we've felt like for the past couple of years, going down our own paths and such. If this is really our problem and our problem alone, we certainly aren't owning it like we should, or like you say we are."
"Okay, fine then, Ms. Devil's Advocate, then I'm assuming you won't mind being the only one the tutor comes to see tomorrow?" Nino scoffs back irritably.
"Whoa there, I never said anything about agreeing to this tutoring thing - "
"And here, the nail in the coffin!" Nino whips out her phone again, turns the screen back on, scrolls down through the text to get to the part that she's thinking of, and practically shoves the screen into her elder sister's face. "Look at this! Look at this part! Papa wants this tutor to stay with us for an ENTIRE FUCKING YEAR!"
"H-Huh?! He – he really said that...? Oh shoot..." Ichika, also clearly shocked wide awake by this additional detail, quickly pulls out her own phone to check her own text. "Oh boy, an entire year...I knew he was serious, but...I didn't think he was this serious..."
"Yeah, that was...that was why I wasn't so sure about this whole tutoring thing..." Yotsuba awkwardly comments, the clover-shaped hair ribbon on her head drooping down expressively. "If, like, if it were only a short term thing, then yeah, I wouldn't really be against it either, but..."
"It's a whole year..." Miku mumbles uncertainly as well. "I get that we might need some help, but that much? I don't like it."
"And what about you, Itsuki?" Nino snaps to her youngest sister, who's busy with her fried rice leftovers. "You knew about this whole year-long tutoring gig, right?"
"U-Uh, yes, o-of course I knew..." Itsuki stammers nervously, averting her eyes while also trying to shovel as much fried rice into her mouth as she can.
"As much as you love eating, don't use my food as a way to cover up the fact that you didn't read that part either."
"I'm...I'm sorry. And...yes, I did not...read that part either - !" Itsuki hurriedly turns around even before she's done talking, retreating to the kitchen with the excuse of having to put away her plate.
Nino triumphantly turns back to Ichika, complete with a smug smile twisted nefariously at their ends.
"Now that I've pointed that out for you, how now?" Nino sneers back at Ichika. "What say you, Dear Eldest Sister Ichika-onee-sama?"
"You can drop the honorifics, you know," Ichika smiles awkwardly, brushing aside Nino's obvious attempts at trying to press the point. "I still won't rescind my earlier statements; the truth is the truth no matter what the context. But...I will say that I don't agree with this whole year-long thing either."
Raising her own phone again, Ichika swiftly types in a text.
"Are you texting Papa? What for?" Nino asks.
"To get him to reconsider the length of the tutoring. Even if we are borderline dropouts the way we are..."
"Well, since you keep referring to us like that, I don't know, doesn't it, like, kind of make sense that Dad's giving us a year-long tutor?" Yotsuba absentmindedly wonders aloud.
"Says the one who gets the lowest scores consistently among us. Is that your ribbon talking, Yotsuba?" Miku asks while wobbling Yotsuba's hair ribbon to and fro.
"Hey, that's mean! Hair Ribbon-san has feelings too!"
"Ah, there's the real Yotsuba. Welcome back."
"But I was here this whole time!"
"Didn't you just say that you agreed with Itsuki about Papa making up his mind and such...? What makes you think you'll be able to to convince him otherwise?" Nino grumbles, watching Ichika tap in her text.
"Admittedly it's not much, but since I'm the oldest, I'll try to use that as leverage against Dad. After all, Itsuki and I are the two of us who have the least amount of run-ins with him from before," Ichika mentions, her eyes fixed on her phone. "So if we want to speak up now, it's gotta be one of us who'll make the most impact."
"I'm more worried if Papa will even see your text on time," Miku says, having transitioned from playing with Yotsuba's hair ribbon to now playing with her younger sister's hair, which Yotsuba is much more a fan of and is purring contentedly like a happy little kitten. "Given how busy he is..."
"Yeah, same here. It's still worth a shot, though...given how big of an issue this could end up being." Ichika sends the text that she's written up with a tap of her thumb. "And that's that. By the way, did someone already feed the fish?"
"I did, don't worry about it," Nino responds. "First thing when we came back."
"Then since Dad won't respond until tomorrow, I'll be going on ahead ~ " Ichika gets up to her feet off the couch, yawning greatly and stretching out her arms. "I'll see you girls in the mor - "
Ichika's phone then jingles, indicating the receipt of a notification of some kind.
"Whoa, no way, Dad actually texted back that quick?!" Yotsuba gasps.
Just as surprised as Yotsuba, Ichika unlocks her phone to check her text, and indeed, what she reads makes her simply smile sheepishly.
"Let me guess..." Nino scowls in disappointment at Ichika's reaction.
"Yeah..." Ichika holds out her phone to her younger sister, showing her their father's response. "It's no use. He won't budge on this."
"Then what shall we do?" Itsuki asks, rejoining her sisters now that she's gotten some food in her. "If this has already been decided, it is not as if we can simply turn the tutor away."
"No, we still can," Nino says staunchly. "Papa's always busy, right? He never has time for us whenever we actually want to do anything with him. Since that's the case, we can just tell the tutor to piss off, that we don't need them. If we don't even show up, there's not much the tutor can do, now, can they?"
"I-I think that is going too far. We should at least meet with the tutor, whoever they may be, and explain to them our perspective on this issue. Perhaps they may be easier to convince than Father."
"Hey, if you wanna do that, be my freakin' guest, Itsuki," Nino shrugs widely as Ichika bids her sisters good night and sleepily directs herself up the stairs to the second floor of their suite to her bedroom. "Maybe the others can join you too. I, on the other hand, have zero interest."
"Well, I'd...feel bad for our tutor if no one showed up on the first day, so...I'll stay with Itsuki," Yotsuba volunteers. "What about you, Miku?"
"...can't say that I'm exactly interested, either," Miku tilts her head indifferently. "I'll just stay in my room or something..."
"Then that's settled! You two can meet with the tutor person and just tell them that we don't need them," Nino claps her hands together in finality. "And that'll be the end of that."
"But...Father will find out, sooner or later," Itsuki murmurs nervously. "Even if we manage to convince the tutor to leave us be, we would have to somehow convince them to also not let Father know, and even then, Father will probably figure out what we were up to."
"Then we'll just tell him that having a tutor wasn't beneficial at all, and that we're better off studying on our own," Nino retorts shortly.
"But would he really believe that?" Yotsuba asks. "Dad's already concerned enough to the point where he's gone and hired a tutor for us. And what if he does actually believe us that a tutor isn't going to help? Then we'll make him end up worrying about us even more!"
"Well, it's not as if Papa worries about us any more than his own work..." Miku sighs curtly, adjusting the headphones around her neck slightly.
"Exactly. And honestly, what does it matter if we flunk out, anyway? All Papa needs to do is pull a few strings of his to get us into another school."
"I would...rather not have to keep transferring schools," Itsuki groans, "especially if it means having to go on more school tours like we just did earlier today."
"Ehhhh, but those are fun, though."
"To you, Yotsuba."
"And I'd rather not be known for being held back grades, either..." Miku grumbles, with a touch of misery tainting her tone.
"Then we're done here, right? I'm gonna go to sleep too," Nino also yawns strongly, feeling the exhaustion of the day that's seeped into her very core take firm control over her body. "Yotsuba and Itsuki, you two figure out a way to make that tutor go away, I guess. We'll see how well it works tomorrow. Good night, everyone."
As Nino, too, climbs the stairs to bed for her own bedroom, Yotsuba glances nervously at her own younger sister.
"It's...it'll be fine, right?" she asks timidly.
"Just leave it to me. I will figure something out," Itsuki says reassuringly to Yotsuba. "When it comes to things like this, I am confident in my negotiations."
"Yotsuba, just to make sure, stick with Itsuki in case of anything," Miku advises, and Yotsuba promptly snaps up her right hand in a salute.
"Roger that, Miku-Taishou!"
"You don't have to salute me for that..."
Miku turns to Itsuki next.
"And Itsuki, are you sure you know how to handle this? I said I was going to just stay in my room or something, but...if in case you need help convincing our tutor..."
With a difficult expression clouded by worry and uncertainty, Itsuki nods slowly.
"I would...definitely appreciate that, thank you, Miku."
"Yeah, no problem..." Miku smiles softly back. "...we're sisters, after all."