Aoba was not exactly known for sound decision-making skills…but on the other hand, his own intuition for people didn’t fail him too often. Although then again, when it did….

Well, nevertheless, here he was, giving Declan a taste of what having Aoba for a friend could mean, bickering with (at?) him with all the familiarity he would have with someone he’d known at least a while and not just a guy whose first impression had been punching out somebody in a grungy bar bathroom.

It mollified Aoba enough for now and he turned back to Tess and her catalogue with a new intensity of purpose. He picked through things as efficiently as he could manage, picking clothes that were as familiar and frugal as he could find. For meal ingredients he went also familiar but less frugal, feeling fair and justified given that the meal would go to feed Declan as well.

By the end of his picking and choosing, Aoba still felt self-conscious for being ‘treated’ like this, but he’d blown off his head of steam and, really, it wasn’t like he’d ever been anything like actually mad.

“Alright…I think that should do it. That alright, Declan?”