House Faxius had three children.

The eldest sister, Margaret, was the oldest and held the most stellar reputation among them—twenty-three this year.

Though long past the typical age for marriage talks, Margaret graduated from Sanctum University with top honors at twenty. Three years ago, the Curia swiftly recruited her for a confidential project.

To this day, legends of her excellence and all-around brilliance still circulate among her graduating class.

The second child, Hale, once shared a similarly glowing reputation in childhood. Yet compared to his dazzling elder sister, his strengths felt more understated—less universally outstanding, excelling mainly in swordsmanship and physique.

Three years ago, his reputation shattered. Many called it “showing his true colors.” Juxtaposed against Margaret’s Curia selection, prejudice against Hale sharpened visibly.

The youngest was Lorin. Though her academics were average and she’d never passed physical assessments, at seven she revealed astonishing theological insight during Mass.

At nine, she became a novice nun at the grand cathedral near House Faxius.

Two years later, she took full vows. Soon after, she was specially invited to study at Sanctum University’s theology department—coinciding almost exactly with Hale’s fall from grace.

A saying spread then: *Better not be born a boy in House Faxius… unless you shine.*

Now, hearing Lorin had returned, Hale’s worry had nothing to do with public opinion.

His little sister was a confirmed yandere—textbook evidence from the game.

Truthfully, Lorin *was* adorable: golden twin tails tied with white ribbons, a daisy hair clip, a powder-pink princess dress, white tights, round-toed Mary Janes.

In-game, her room overflowed with plush bears, cats, and dogs. She clung to him fiercely, defending him even when he erred.

Any brother would cherish such a sister.

Pity she was a yandere.

A yandere who might snap and stab him without warning.

Worse, Hale recalled his death scene in her route—always preceded by *“Lorin made you tea.”*

Strong hint: he’d been drugged.

He had to stay alert. Girls from the theology department who’d visited recently might be Lorin’s close friends.

They’d likely already told her about Letitia and Christine.

“What’s wrong, Young Master? Aren’t you going to see the young miss?” Lofu asked, noticing his hesitation.

Her feelings toward Lorin were complicated. She sensed the girl didn’t like her—but as Hale’s sister and a House Faxius servant, dislike felt impossible.

“Ah, wait a—"

Before the black-haired youth finished, a soft, shy voice tinged with frailty whispered beside him:

“Big brother… you’re back~”

He looked up. The girl leaning on the railing wobbled unsteadily, as if about to collapse.

…

Lorin Faxius truly was delicate.

Exactly as Hale remembered from his first playthrough: exquisitely fragile.

A whisper-soft voice, like a porcelain doll that might shatter from a raised tone.

Seeing her in person deepened the impression.

Had he not known she was the most volatile heroine, he’d have rushed to steady her and gently urged rest.

Instead, he kept distance, voice carefully neutral:

“Mm. I’m back.”

*Yes. Stay cold.*

Why did Lorin turn yandere later?

Because she loved him.

If that love faded, the trigger vanished.

But pushing too hard might backfire—accelerating her snap.

He needed to slowly become… boring. Redirect her focus elsewhere.

“I heard big brother’s been popular at school lately?”

The girl in a **-colored onesie spoke.

Hale’s guard spiked. He’d expected this—but not *this* fast. He hadn’t prepared a reply.

“Where did the young miss hear that? Young Master Hale has always been popular with girls,” Lofu interjected.

Hale nearly broke into a cold sweat.

“Is that so, big brother?”

Lorin seemed to address Lofu—but her gaze never left Hale. When he stayed silent, she shuffled closer in bear-print slippers.

Then, like a curious puppy, she sniffed near him, a faintly knowing smile playing on her lips.

Hale wasn’t fooled.

*She’s checking for other girls’ scents.*

His sister was… deeply problematic.

Mind racing, he deflected:

“Lorin, forget that. How long is your break?”

“Hmm, not sure. No urgent duties… so I’ll stay and keep you company, big brother.” She shook her head.

Truth was, Lorin had nearly finished theology requirements. Her mentor assigned her as daily Mass officiant at Fayo River Cathedral—a prestigious post.

Saint Louis had many churches, but only five official grand cathedrals.

Three, like Ron Cathedral where Christine served, belonged to the Cardinal Bishops.

As Lorin wasn’t a Vestal Candidate, she couldn’t serve there.

The remaining two positions were critical stepping stones for any woman aiming high in the Church.

Hale felt a flicker of unease—*extended break*—but steeled himself.

Once she returned to school, he’d slip out of Saint Louis. Timeline-wise, she shouldn’t snap this early.

“Rest well at home these days,” he said, patting her shoulder.

*If only she weren’t a yandere… I’d ruffle her hair.*

“Mm, big brother~”

Her clear azure eyes blinked like sunlit water.

Then, head lowered, she glanced up shyly, fingers twisting together:

“Ah… I brought a painting about theological mysteries. Some parts confuse me. Could you… come to my room tonight and explain them?”

Her voice, her gaze—pure, trembling anticipation.