Awakening: My Yandere sister is obsessed with me

The soft click of the front door echoed in the quiet apartment as Haruto stepped inside, the lingering scent of school textbooks replaced by a faint, metallic tang that made the hairs on his arms prickle. He toed off his shoes, then came in.

He found her in the living room, exactly where he'd left her, yet subtly changed. Yuki, her silvery hair fanned across the worn cushions of the sofa like a moonlit cascade, was awake. Her eyes, the color of twilight skies, were open, fixed on him with a cautious, almost wary intensity. There was a faint tremor in her slender frame, an underlying tension that spoke of past traumas and current uncertainties.

He noted the slight clenching of her jaw, the way her fingers, delicate as porcelain, were curled tightly against her palm. It was a familiar posture for Yuki, one he hadn't seen in years, a silent testament to the walls she'd built around herself.

A pang of something akin to sadness, yet intertwined with a stubborn hope, twisted in Haruto's chest. He moved to the small kitchen, the rhythmic clinking of a mug against the countertop filling the silence. He measured out milk, the aroma of warmth slowly displacing the metallic tang in the air. He knew Yuki. Knew her stubbornness, her pride, her deep-seated aversion to anything that smacked of vulnerability.

He returned with a steaming mug, the milky warmth rising in a gentle cloud. "Here," he said, his voice softer than usual, "drink this. It'll help with the shock."

Yuki's gaze remained fixed on him, a silent challenge in her eyes. She made no move to take the mug. Haruto, undeterred, gently pressed it into her hands. "It's warm. Good for you." He watched as her fingers, still trembling faintly, curled around the ceramic. He could practically hear her thoughts, a cacophony of resistance.

"You don't have to worry," he continued, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in his own voice betraying the depth of his concern. "My Onee-chan... she'll protect you." The words hung in the air, seemingly simple, yet loaded with an unspoken weight.

Yuki's delicate brow furrowed, a faint frown marring the smooth expanse of her forehead. Her lips, pale and unsmiling, parted just enough for a low, almost cynical thought to escape. *Does he even know who Satsuki is?* she wondered, her mind racing. The fact that she hasn't annihilated me on sight is a miracle in itself.

The name 'Satsuki' was a cold shiver down her spine, a ghost from a past she desperately wanted to forget, a past steeped in blood and power struggles. She took a small, reluctant sip of the warm milk, the taste bland against her tongue.

Her voice, when it finally emerged, was cool, detached, and infused with an icy pride that had always been her shield. "I can handle myself. You don't need to trouble yourself, Haruto." Her tone was a clear dismissal, a subtle but firm rejection of his concern, of his very presence.

Haruto sighed inwardly. He knew. He knew their relationship, once intertwined and fiercely protective, had been severed years ago, broken by the chasm that had opened between their worlds.

The last echoes of what they had been lingered, a bittersweet aftertaste, a ghost of shared laughter and whispered secrets. But the present situation was too dire to simply let go. He needed to try.

He sat on the edge of the coffee table facing her, leaning forward slightly, his earnest gaze unwavering. "Yuki," he began, his voice dropping to a persuasive murmur, "I know things are... complicated. But there's a way. Join me at Kakusei Academy."

He watched her closely, gauging her reaction. The name, he knew, would be a thorny issue.

"It's the safest option. It would not only protect you from the ongoing pursuit, but it also provides a unique opportunity for you to... to train. To understand yourself better."

A small, cynical smile played on Yuki's lips, a stark contrast to the severity of her eyes. It was a smile that spoke of deep-seated distrust and bitter experience.

"Kakusei Academy?" she scoffed softly, the words laced with an almost imperceptible bite. "That's a government organization, Haruto. A bastion of the Council. Do you honestly believe they would allow the daughter of a notorious gang leader to enroll? It's absurd."

Her past, her lineage, was a brand, etched into her very being, a mark that would never fade.

Haruto had anticipated her objection. He knew the prejudices, the unyielding walls of the establishment. He had an ace up his sleeve, one he hoped would finally break through her carefully constructed defenses. "I'll ask Onee-chan to help."

The casual mention of Satsuki sent another tremor through Yuki, though this one was laced with a different kind of dread.

The thought of Satsuki, the undisputed matriarch of the Kurokami family, exerting her influence on behalf of the daughter of her sworn enemy… it was almost unthinkable.

A desperate, almost violent shake of her head was her immediate response. "No. Absolutely not. It's not necessary."

Her voice was firmer now, bordering on desperate. The idea of owing Satsuki, of being beholden to the very person who symbolized everything she despised, was anathema to her.

Haruto exhaled slowly, a soft, resigned sigh. He knew pushing her further now would be counterproductive. Yuki was like a cornered animal; too much pressure, and she'd lash out, or simply retreat deeper into herself.

He reached out, his fingers gently tapping her forehead, a familiar gesture from their childhood. "Just rest," he murmured, his voice gentle but firm. "And think about it. Really think about it."

He stood, giving her space, allowing the suggestion to marinate in the quiet recesses of her stubborn mind. He knew this wouldn't be easy. Nothing with Yuki ever was.

But he also knew the dangers she faced, the inescapable grip of her past. And if Satsuki, the cold, unyielding power of his Onee-chan, was the only way to ensure Yuki's safety, then he would use every ounce of that power, no matter the personal cost.

He left the mug of milk beside her, its warmth a silent promise in the rapidly cooling air, and retreated to his own room, leaving Yuki to the tumultuous battlefield of her own thoughts.