As you open your eyes and stretch, you look over and see your Lucario Tsuyomi's futon empty. She always preferred that, oddly enough. You lay back down, until you hear your bedroom door slam shut.

Wake up, sleepyhead. I made breakfast, don't let it get cold.

She opens the blinds, letting in the sunlight and leaves the room to sit at the table and eat, which means one way or another, you're going to have to get up.