The Regressor of a Saint

Monday

─'Ugh, five more minutes..'

Kallous groaned, his arms tightening around the pillow like it was his last hope in a world gone mad. He buried his face into the soft fabric, ignoring the system's nagging sound.

He loathed it when Allyn used the system's alarm to wake him up. Why, of all things, had Allyn discovered the one piece of modern torture he'd hoped to leave behind in this new world? No alarm clocks in this world had been a blessing. Until now.

His precious starlight had turned traitor, using this vile device to wake him up. For what? The sun wasn't even fully up yet.

Betrayal, it seemed, came in the form of cute, shiny sparkles and overly cheerful wake-up calls.

With the grace of a grumpy cat, Kal pressed his palms against the mattress, hauling himself into a sitting position. His hair—a wild mess—falling into his eyes. He groaned dramatically. 'Why did mornings exist?'  Whoever invented them clearly had it out for him. He'd petition to ban them if he could. 

He cursed his nonexistent slacker life, another casualty of the Monday morning war.

✿ 'Good morning Kal! o(≧▽≦)o' Allyn happily greeted as she twirled around him in lively circles.

─ 'Tsk,' Kal clicked his tongue, casting a half- hearted, bleary-eyed glare at her. 'I told you, I hate Mondays. Why'd you wake me up so early?' He dragged himself to the bathroom, rubbing his eyes red.

✿ 'Because it's Monday!' she chirped back, giggling as if that somehow made it better.

Kal grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, but Allyn ignored it, continuing her happy little twirl routine around the room.

Meanwhile, he stumbled into the bathroom and flicked on the shower. The hot water cascaded over him, steam rising as it hit his skin, instantly unraveling the tension in his muscles. The irritation melted away, but it did nothing to fix his Monday mood. 

He wasn't a morning person, let alone a Monday morning person. This was a widely known fact. If Monday had a face, he'd punch it. Twice.

Allyn sighed, floating near the bathroom door and she knew the drill. Kal's moods were notorious, especially on this day.

For some reason beyond her comprehension, Mondays seemed to bring out his worst. Still, it was hard for her to believe they were as terrible as Kal insisted.

While the heat continued to lull him into calmness, Kal lazily reached for the shampoo Allyn had picked out for him. She'd claimed it made his hair shiny and healthy, though he suspected she just liked it because it smelled like strawberries. 

His thoughts drifting through her update for the week as he lathered his hair—longer than it had any right to be—he caught sight of the strands in his hand. It was almost to his waist now, a cascade of blue that gleamed under the bathroom light.

He had tried cutting it once, but Allyn had threatened him with an apocalyptic tantrum of such proportions that the Constellations themselves might've been concerned. "It suits you," she always said. But Kal didn't share her enthusiasm.

Still, he wasn't in the mood to fight over it this morning. Not yet.

With a swift motion, he turned off the water and wrapped a towel around himself, stepping into the cooler air of the room. Dressing quickly, he stood before the mirror, silently assessing the changes in his reflection.

His once tiny, baby-like frame had undergone a noticeable transformation over the past few weeks.

While he wasn't taller than most of the children at the orphanage, he had certainly grown compared to his earlier, smaller self.