Awakening: My Yandere sister is obsessed with me

The final bell of the day echoed through the polished halls of The school. Tanaka moved carefully, her steps barely making a sound on the floor. While everyone else headed for the gates, she turned toward an empty hallway—a place most never went, where the air felt heavy, like something was waiting.

Her fingers traced the carvings on a hidden door, which was camouflaged perfectly within the wood-paneled wall.

With a barely audible click, the door yielded, revealing a chamber bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of what seemed to be moonlight, even in the late afternoon.

Seated gracefully in the center of the room, her silhouette framed by the gentle luminescence, was the woman Tanaka had come to meet. Satsuki. Her long, flowing hair, the shade of a raven's wing, cascaded around her, framing a face that was both exquisitely delicate and etched with an ancient, unwavering resolve.

Her eyes, pools of liquid silver, held a profound, almost sorrowful calm, yet within their depths lay a dormant Powers. She wore a simple, elegant kimono, its dark fabric serving only to accentuate the almost otherworldly pallor of her skin.

Tanaka entered, her movements imbued with a deep respect that bordered on reverence. She knelt, her head bowed in a respectful, traditional greeting. "Lady Kurokami," she intoned, her voice a soft murmur that dared not disturb the stillness of the chamber.

Satsuki remained motionless, her silver gaze sweeping over Tanaka, cool and analytical, yet devoid of overt warmth or immediate recognition. There was no greeting in return, no softening of her features. Her silence was a heavy cloak, a deliberate barrier that spoke volumes of her detachment, her profound solitude.

Tanaka, accustomed to Satsuki's enigmatic demeanor, straightened slightly, though her head remained respectfully lowered. She chose her words with meticulous care, knowing the delicate balance she had to strike. "Lady Kurokami," she began again, her voice gaining a quiet urgency, "the matter of Haruto's admission to the academy… it is, I assure you, a necessity."

Satsuki's eyes, which had been fixed on some distant point beyond the walls, now subtly shifted, a flicker of something akin to concern entering their depths. Still, she offered no verbal response, her silence a profound invitation for Tanaka to elaborate.

"If you were… indisposed," Tanaka continued, choosing her words carefully, "or unable to exert your influence, Haruto would be gravely exposed. The Enemies, those who oppose the Council, their reach is growing, their desperation escalating. He would be in immense danger."

Her voice dropped, becoming a low, urgent murmur. "He needs, at the very least, the capacity for self-preservation. Here, within the academy's walls, under our guidance, he can learn. We will ensure his well-being. We will watch over him, Lady Kurokami. He will receive special care."

A long, contemplative silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the faint hum of unseen energy. Satsuki's gaze softened almost imperceptibly, a flicker of weariness shadowing her silver eyes.

She had always wished for Haruto, her distant kin, to live a normal life, unburdened by the treacherous legacy of their bloodline. She yearned for him to know the simple joys of an ordinary existence, far removed from the shadowy machinations of the Council and the constant threat of those who coveted their power.

She knew, with a certainty that Haruto possessed the same dormant abilities that flowed through her own veins. The awakened powers that defined their lineage, a blessing and a curse. She had always anticipated their awakening within him, but not like this, not so soon, not in such a tumultuous era. The premature awakening of such power could be catastrophic for one so young and unprepared.

Tanaka, sensing Satsuki's internal struggle, pressed her advantage,. "Lady Kurokami, his admission is merely a precautionary measure. It provides him with a secure environment, a controlled space where he can be monitored, where his innate talents can be nurtured, should they manifest, without drawing undue attention from those who would exploit him. We merely seek to offer him a shield, a foundation upon which he can build his own strength."

The air in the chamber seemed to thicken, charged with Satsuki's silent deliberation. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her voice, when it came, was a low, melodic whisper, imbued with an ancient authority. "He is not to be used."

Tanaka's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, a flicker of surprise crossing her composed features.

Satsuki's silver eyes, now narrowed to mere slits, fixed on Tanaka with an unwavering intensity that seemed to pierce through her very soul. "He is not to serve any purpose, any mission, that benefits your agendas. He is not a pawn in your political games. He is not a weapon for your Council."

Her voice gained a chilling edge, "His safety, his training, it is to be solely for his own protection, his own understanding of the abilities he will inevitably come to possess. Nothing more. Is that understood, Tanaka?"

Tanaka was momentarily stunned by the uncharacteristic sharpness in Satsuki's tone, found her voice caught in her throat. She recovered quickly, however, a sense of calculated risk filling her. "But, Lady Kurokami," she ventured, her voice barely a whisper, "if he does not engage, if he does not challenge himself in practical applications, how can he truly grow stronger? How can he fully master these abilities?"

Satsuki's eyes, which had softened slightly, now hardened once more.

Tanaka's breath hitched in her throat. "Understood, Lady Kurokami. Your will is absolute."

She knew, without a doubt, that to push further would be not only futile but incredibly dangerous.

With another deferential bow, Tanaka turned. The soft click of the secret door closing behind her echoed softly in the silent chamber, leaving Satsuki once again in her solitary world, her silver eyes fixed on the distant horizon, a silent guardian of a truth too profound for words. The echoes of their conversation lingered in the air, a silent testament to the fragile balance of power, and the unwavering resolve of a woman determined to protect the innocent from a fate she knew all too well.