"They're going to hate me," Tadokoro says.
Makishima is conspicuously silent.
"Oi, this is the part where you're supposed to say 'Don't be silly, Tadokorocchi, they won't hate you!'"
"But they might hate you," Makishima says.
Tadokoro fiddles with his tie and tries not to let the nerves get to him - he's already sweat through the sleeves of one shirt. (Makishima knows him too well, had merely shrugged and presented him with an extra button down in Tadokoro's size as though it was nothing.)
"Do you think they'll like the melon bread?" He asks, to distract himself more than anything. Makishima likes his melon bread; that's all the matters.
"The melon bread is good," Makishima says. (He didn't answer Tadokoro's question.)
"That's it, isn't it? They won't like me because I'm just some baker's son."
"Like I don't know I'm not good enough for you," he carries on, bulldozing over Makishima's attempts to comfort him.
"Jin," Makishima says, and the combination of his tone and the name are enough to give Tadokoro pause.
"That's not why they'll hate you."
"Well that's comforting," Tadokoro huffs.
"It doesn't have anything to do with you, Tadokorocchi. You're-" Makishima stops himself suddenly and turns away, blushing. "It's because of me. It's because to them, you will be yet another reminder that I am an - irregularity." He offers Tadokoro an awkward smile, sharkish and forced.
"Well that's dumb, Tadokoro says. Makishima lets out a shout of laughter, shaking at the force of it.
"Yes, I guess it is," he replies, the smile on his face genuine this time.
Tadokoro returns it with a grin of his own and takes Makishima's hand.
"Come on," he says. "Let's go meet your parents."