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He can’t take his clothes off in front of Geiz.
That shouldn’t be a big deal, Woz supposes. He’s slept in his clothes more often than not for most of his life, but somehow it feels odd.
…No. No!
No sentimental feelings for the past, he’s doing what has to be done. Even if no one can know. Even if it meant that to become a spy had required…
He can’t allow Geiz to see him bare, as it would reveal scars he wishes not to think of.
“Who are you, Resistance?” The torturer (well, interrogator, officially, but the true function was not particularly secret) had asked, some sort of electric staff leaving Woz crying out helplessly in pain. “How did you get in here?”
Woz smirked, despite the muscle spasms left behind.
“I told you,” he said. “I’ll only speak to the Demon King Ohma Zi-O himself.”
“You will do no such thing,” the torturer replied. “I will find a way to cut the answer out of you.”
“Interesting choice of words,” Woz replies. “I had expected an interrogator of your caliber to be more refined, however.”
The torturer raised their eyebrow.
“I would not challenge me, Resistance,” the torturer said, and then… then it pulled out the Book.
His current Demon King’s uncle leaves his first aid kit in a logical place.
Luckily, Woz thinks, and then he considers teleporting elsewhere to apply the bandages. However, it is night, the others slumber, and he himself is also tired.
So downstairs in the kitchen will work as well as one could ask for.
Both Ohma Zi-O and Tokiwa SOUGO expect him to wrap his own wounds, and he had expected no less of himself while leading his team in the Resistance.
It’s a familiar process to examine himself. Luckily, it appears damage was minimal. Few injuries transferred to this form. Minus the gash in his right arm, he supposes.
It is nice to have a relative abundance of sterile bandages and the like, at least.
He takes it out, and—
“Woz?”
Tokiwa Sougo.
Woz turns to him, at the honest worry on his face. It doesn’t hurt, or so he tells himself.
“Do you have need of my aid?” He asks.
“You’re hurt,” is all his current Demon King says. Woz sighs.
“It is not bad, My Demon King,” he says. “Simply needs bandages. I will heal.”
The young King to be simply walks forwards and takes the bandages from Woz’s hand.
“Let me do it,” he says, taking his injured arm’s hand in his, and Woz should say no, should simply bear it, further gain the boy’s trust.
It feels so nice to have his hand in Woz’s, though.
To have someone bandaging him up, for once.
(To have it be… to have it be Sougo.)
A bucket, rags. Some… well, at least they’re new bandages. The guard leave them and tells Woz to clean up with them.
“Your audience with Ohma Zi-O has been granted,” it says. “Clean up.”
Woz brushes himself off, slowly stripping to clean and bandage himself. It hurts, everything on fire. Burns from the electricity, brushes and scrapes. It hurts, but it is manageable.
He falls to his knees.
But no, he has to do this. Has to drag himself forwards, clean up and heal. He has no choice but success.
They drag him before Oma Zi-O nonetheless.
“You know, I’m glad you moved in,” Sougo says as he works. “I mean, I knew you were usually around, but it’s nice to have you… here. Where I can see you.”
“Perhaps that is better than you think,” Woz murmurs. This boy is too kind, too good hearted. How could he ever become Ohma Zi-O?
But it doesn’t matter. Tokiwa SOUGO is not incorrect in anything.
“When I’m king,” Sougo says. “I’m never letting you out of my palace. You don’t know how much you’ve done for me.”
He cuts the bandage, then.
“I am sorry you got hurt,” he continues.
“A necessary evil when fighting, my Demon King,” Woz replies, without thinking. “This is not my fist injury.”
Sougo sighs, hand quite obviously roaming the various scars visible on Woz’s chest. Woz can’t bring himself to stop him for a multitude of reasons.
“I guess not,” the younger Rider says. “Can I… did I ever…”
“Ohma Zi-O never touched me to harm, if that is what you ask,” Woz offers. His enforcers had, and the Demon King himself had killed his family, but… “Not with his own hands.”
“Oh,” Sougo says. “I’m… I’m sorry, still.”
And Woz thinks of all things he used to consider, going into this.
And he thinks “I’m sorry, too.”
“I do believe you are adamant on the subject of changing your future, My Demon King,” he says instead. “And… I will support you.”
Sougo smiles, and Woz can’t help but smile back.
Somehow, it tastes bitter.