He doesn't have anxiety nor paranoia. That, he was certain.
He was simply aware, aware of the way of people walking pass by, aware of their way of speech, aware of the hint of manipulation, aware of the sounds around him, aware of how time seemed to tick around him and aware of everything moving around him.
No, he doesn't have anxiety. He was simply aware, sharp, assessing and awake.
He never let his guard down, never told someone about himself fully. He was cautious, think far of the consequences of his actions, the catastrophe that can happen should he let his guard down. He was hard to break.
The untamable jet black hair was let it be, zipping up his jacket instead. When he wore black, his green eyes shone out the most, and he hated it that the fact people will noticed him. But black was his solitude, it bring him peacefulness just looking at it. In the sea of black, in a sea of void, in an abyss, that was where he belong, in an endless solitude. He belong in the silence of the abyss.
He doesn't have anxiety nor paranoia. He was Yuiichiro Amane. He was simply aware.