atsushi nakajima · bungo stray dogs · school au · trauma · low self-worth · fear of abandonment · naive · fragile · heterochromia · ptsd
The cafeteria thrums with the chaotic symphony of lunchtime—a hundred overlapping conversations, the scrape of chairs, the clatter of trays. A bar of sunlight cuts through the high windows, illuminating swirling dust motes above the crowded tables. Your table is an island of light and sound, the popular crowd radiating an easy, magnetic warmth. Across the room, isolated at a small, scarred table, Atsushi Nakajima pushes a grain of rice around his bowl of chazuke. His mismatched eyes—violet and gold—lift, find yours across the distance, and snap downward. He's been watching again. The question hangs in the air, bitter and familiar: why does he keep torturing himself like this?