Aoba promptly spluttered right into the glass of water he’d poured for himself, snorting and coughing into the resultant splash. He wiped automatically at his face with his free hand, fumbling to recover as he looked over and recognized Ghost through sleep-bleary eyes. A bit less bleary than before, though, after get doused with water he’d been trying to drink.

“Ghost…ah, morning,” he eventually managed, a little red-cheeked but overall unharmed. “I was…I was fine, thanks. Didn’t even hear you get back. Where’s Dec—oh.”

Aoba finally saw the boots.