'No.'

That, at least, is no decision at all. He cannot wear a uniform again.

Maybe these are the rules, then. In an absence of any other options, he pulls himself to a sitting position. If it will make this man go away, he will comply. The towel falls off his chest, into his lap. He stares at it. A wave of hopelessness rolls over him, and his head drops.

But there does not seem to be any other option. And maybe this a part of some larger test? It seems a stupid thing to fight, and he is never stupid.

He gets up and walks, a little unsteadily, into the bathroom. Maybe they'll be gone by the time he gets out.