Hourglass [Quintessential Quintuplets x OCs]

To You, Who Awaits The Snowmelt

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"𝗜𝗳 𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲, 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗲. 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘄𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗶𝗳 𝗜 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿? 𝗜'𝗹𝗹 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝘂𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗮 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗜 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂."

— 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐤𝐚 ''𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐩𝐞'' 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐨𝐤𝐢. ( XX/XX/20XX )

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— | 𝐒𝐭. 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲. 𝟐:𝟑𝟎 𝐏.𝐌 | —

All were there, all the notes that were ruined yesterday. She read all the papers one by one, and over and over again. Madoka first thought that maybe the notes could be the originals, but this possibility was both physically implausible and impossible. The biggest reason for this was the notes themselves, though the content was exactly the same, word by word, the handwriting was different. It was definitely not Madoka's handwriting, far from hers.

''That can't be... How?...'' Madoka looked towards the closed library door. It's been over an hour since Kazuma left, leaving her in this half-wet library. Boy she met provoked Madoka to the limit for no reason, and then left without a single proper explanation. "Kurosawa, who are you?..." she murmured, the question lingering in the air, heavy with frustration and confusion.

After reading all the notes, Madoka remained seated in that cold chair for a while. The sound of the ongoing cultural festival could be faintly heard through the closed library door.

She wasn't even supposed to be here. She was supposed to go home when that stupid bell rang. There was nothing here for her, there couldn't be.

''Deadly sin? A chance? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT—?!'' When Kazuma's last words came to her mind, her anger ignited again and anew. She gritted her teeth, her fists tightening in frustration. With a primal shout, she unleashed her accumulated anger into the ceiling above, the sound echoing through the empty library.

He was practically making fun of her, or so Madoka thought that way.

Without bothering to collect the notes, she stormed towards the closed door of the library and flung it open with violent force. The door swung wide with a deafening crash, nearly breaking, its thunderous sound enough to startle the nearby students and send vibrations through the entire floor.

The students and their parents, who had approached the door with curiosity upon hearing it open like a bomb, suddenly abandoned their intentions as they see Hosoki Madoka. Yet, no one dared to approach her now; their earlier curiosity replaced by a cautious wariness born of instinctual self-preservation.

In truth, no one wanted to stand in front of or question whose with a face like that.