Pliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing…
The alarm screamed across the quiet room, slicing through the morning peace like a blade.
Kaiser groaned, dragging a hand across his face. "Ugh…" He slapped the clock, and the sound stopped.
Three seconds later—
Pliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing…
"ARGH, seriously?!"
He hit it again, harder this time. Silence.
Then—
Pliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing…
"YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!"
He threw off the blanket, grabbed the cursed clock, and hurled it against the wall. The device bounced off and landed on the floor with a pathetic clunk… still buzzing faintly.
"Shut up already, you demonic piece of plastic!"
He stomped toward it, hair messy, eyes half-open, and rage fully awake. But even as he reached to pick it up—
Pliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing…
Kaiser froze. A twitch formed at the corner of his eye. Then, with slow determination, he grabbed a screwdriver from his desk.
"That's it," he muttered darkly. "You're done."
He sat cross-legged on the floor and began unscrewing the back, muttering threats under his breath. "Let's see you make a sound without your guts, you annoying little—"
Knock, knock.
He froze.
A voice came from the other side of the door. "Hey, you awake in there?"
It was Divah.
Kaiser sighed. "Yeah, thanks to a cursed alarm clock."
The door creaked open. Divah stepped in, her long coat brushing against the floor, her expression somewhere between amusement and disbelief.
"What are you doing?" she asked, staring at the scattered clock parts.
"Exorcising a demon," Kaiser said flatly. "It wouldn't stop ringing."
Divah blinked. "So your solution was… to destroy it?"
"It provoked me first."
For a moment, she just stared. Then, with a deep sigh, she crossed her arms. "You realize this means I'm the one who'll have to wake you up every morning now."
Kaiser grinned. "Really? Sounds great to me."
She raised an eyebrow. "Don't get any ideas."
He quickly looked away, pretending to cough. "No ideas. None."
Divah shook her head, muttering something about "problem children" and "never-ending headaches."
Then her tone softened. "Anyway, today's your last day in this city."
Kaiser paused, screwdriver still in hand. "Already?"
She nodded. "You'll be leaving for the Saint's Academy tomorrow. I thought you might want some time to visit your mother… or do whatever you want before you go."
For a second, Kaiser didn't answer. His expression shifted — the sarcasm fading, replaced by quiet seriousness.
"Yeah," he said softly. "Thanks."
Divah nodded and reached into her coat. She pulled out a sleek black card and handed it to him. "Here. Buy yourself something to eat while you're out."
Kaiser blinked. "Wait, you're giving me money?"
She smirked. "Technically, it's the Order's money. Try not to blow it all on snacks."
"No promises," he said, pocketing it with a grin.
"Of course not."
Kaiser stood and stretched, his energy returning. "Alright. I'll go take a shower, get dressed, and head out. I'll be back before sunset."
"Make sure you are," Divah said. "The last thing we need is another incident involving you and the night."
He smirked. "Don't worry, I'm not planning to die again anytime soon."
Divah gave him a long look — the kind that hovered between amusement and genuine concern. "Good. Let's keep it that way."
As she turned to leave, Kaiser called out, "Hey, Divah?"
She glanced back. "Yeah?"
"…Thanks. For, you know, not treating me like a criminal."
Divah smiled faintly. "Don't thank me yet. I might change my mind after your first week at the Academy."
Kaiser chuckled as she left, the door closing quietly behind her.
He looked around the room — the broken clock, the messy sheets, the faint morning light filtering through the window. Everything felt… normal. And yet, he knew this was the last time he'd ever see this place as home.
He picked up one of the clock's metal screws and rolled it between his fingers.
"Guess it's really happening," he murmured. "Time's up."
The wind outside howled softly through the streets, carrying the scent of rain.
Tomorrow, he would enter the world of Saints.
But today — today still belonged to him.
Kaiser stepped out into the morning sunlight, stretching his arms with a yawn. The city was calm — unusually calm — as if even the chaos of the world decided to give him a moment of peace.
He pulled out the black card Divah had given him and scanned it at a kiosk.
Balance: $517.80
Kaiser blinked. "Wait… what?" He leaned closer, refreshing the screen. Same number.
He groaned loudly. "You've got to be kidding me. Are the Saints seriously this broke?"
A passerby gave him a strange look, but Kaiser ignored it. "Five hundred bucks? That's like… divine poverty!"
He sighed and pocketed the card. "Whatever. Let's make it work."
He headed to a small café nearby, ordering breakfast — pancakes, eggs, and the largest coffee they had. As he ate, his irritation melted into a small, satisfied smile. It had been a while since he'd had a proper meal without thinking about money or hiding from someone.
After breakfast, he began walking through the streets, stopping at a toy shop he used to visit when he was younger.
Inside, shelves were stacked with bright colors, tiny figures, and stuffed animals that seemed to sparkle under the lights. Kaiser picked a few boxes — robots, dolls, puzzles — and smiled faintly, imagining the kids back at the orphanage.
He didn't have many memories there worth keeping, but the younger ones… they deserved something better than he had.
Outside, rainclouds were gathering again, but he didn't mind.
Next, he stopped by a flower shop. Rows of blossoms lined the walls — roses, tulips, orchids. His eyes caught on a large bouquet of pink roses, carefully wrapped in silk ribbon.
"That one," he said, pointing. "The expensive one."
The florist smiled and nodded, handing it to him. The petals were soft, fragrant — delicate, almost unreal.
Holding the bouquet close, Kaiser made his way to the hospital.
He greeted the nurses with his usual half-smile, and a few of them recognized him immediately. "You're here to see your mother again?" one asked kindly.
"Yeah," he said. "Like always."
They nodded and let him through.
The corridors were quiet, lit by the soft hum of fluorescent lights. Kaiser's steps slowed as he reached the familiar door — Room 213.
He hesitated, hand hovering over the doorknob. Then he took a deep breath and entered.
The room smelled faintly of disinfectant and flowers. Machines hummed softly beside the bed, keeping rhythm with the faint rise and fall of her chest.
"Hey, Mom," he said quietly.
No answer.
He smiled faintly, placing the bouquet on the small table by her bedside. "I brought you flowers. The prettiest ones they had — and the most expensive."
He chuckled weakly. "I still don't know what your favorite color is… I've never actually talked to you while you were awake. But, uh… I picked pink. They say women like pink, right?"
Silence.
He sat down beside her, resting his elbows on his knees. The weight of the past few days settled on him like a storm cloud.
"Some weird stuff's been happening lately," he began. "Like, really weird. I died, came back to life, got recruited by this freaky church, and now I'm supposed to be a Saint or something. Yeah, crazy, I know."
He laughed softly to himself. "You'd probably scold me for getting involved with them. But honestly, Mom… I didn't have much choice."
For a moment, his voice cracked, and he looked away.
"I don't really know how to do this — talking to someone who can't talk back," he admitted. "But… even if you can't hear me, I just want you to know… I'm doing all this for you."
He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"Even though I've never seen you awake," he whispered, "I know you're someone amazing. Because you're my mom."
He stood, forcing a small smile. "I'll come visit again soon, okay? Don't worry about the bills — your son's got it covered."
He turned and walked toward the door, pausing just long enough to look back one last time.
Her face was peaceful, illuminated by the pale hospital light.
Kaiser smiled. "See you later, Mom."
He left quietly.
Moments after the door clicked shut, the room fell still again.
And then — a single tear rolled down the side of his mother's face.
But Kaiser was already gone.