( kazuya likely worries too much. there’s almost nothing that he could say or do that would unsettle makoto to the point of ruining the date (or their friendship, or whatever), except for, perhaps, realizing too much about the truth of him, sinking into deep and gut-churning revulsion, and then calling him a freak. you know, something along those very specific lines would probably be pretty psychically damaging. but anything other than that would likely end up seen as “not as bad as expected.”

he does think he looks nice. he at the very least can tell that he’s dressed differently than he usually prefers to, indicating he’s put in some thought and effort. that’s appreciated.

he smiles, though it’s a bit like a rabbit, nervous and quick to dart away. ) Thanks. You too.

( he glances to the front of the restaurant, gesturing. ) I got here a little early, so I went ahead and told them that we would like a table. The host said that they were going to get something ready. So, um… should we?

( oh god he suddenly hopes they didn’t go to any Special Lengths for them… he would die )