When he wakes up he feels like he might throw up.
It takes him a few seconds to remember why, but then the previous night comes rushing back. Maybe it's the maleficing, or maybe it's just the lack of sleep, but either way just about the last thing he wants to do is leave his room.
He's going to anyway, obviously. He's not stupid.
He anxiously inspects his nails — clean — and tries to catch his reflection in a shard of glass — clean. It was only once. Probably he doesn't have an aura yet. Probably everything is going to be fine.
He does sit-ups until breakfast and never quite manages to stop feeling sick.