"Oh good, you're awake," a female doctor said, her voice light but tight with exhaustion. "You collapsed a few hours ago due to low blood sugar. You haven't eaten anything in a few days, so one of the nurses will be bringing you some food soon. Do you have any allergies?"
Haru blinked against the harsh hospital lights, his body heavy with fatigue. Everything around him felt surreal, like he was caught between sleep and waking.
He shook his head slowly, unable to summon the strength to speak.
"And how do you feel?"
"Tired," Haru croaked, his throat raw.
"I'm sure once you eat something, you'll feel much better," the doctor said kindly, making a few notes on her clipboard.
"Thank you, Doctor," Aoi cut in, sparing Haru the effort.
Aoi leaned closer, brushing a hand against Haru's hair with a sigh. "I told you it wasn't a good idea to get out of bed. You're so stubborn."
But Haru wasn't listening. His gaze had drifted past Aoi—to the blonde girl standing awkwardly near the door, her hands twisting nervously.
He didn't look at her with anger. Not anymore.
He looked at her with a quiet, devastating sympathy—for the monster she had become, because of him.
"Aoi," he said softly. "Can I have a minute alone with yourgirlfriend?"
He added the last two words to serve as a reminder—specifically to Mia—that they were in a relationship.
Aoi flinched, knowing how much he hated Mia, but stepped out without a word.
The door clicked shut.
Now it was just the two of them. And all the things they'd left unsaid.
Haru sat up, slowly. The silence between them stretched too long. He didn't know where to start. He wasn't even sure he knew he should speak first.
"I'm sorry," he finally whispered.
Mia's brows furrowed in confusion. "For what?" she asked softly.
"For the person you've become and the choices you have made… and it was all because… I left you at the altar that night."
Mia's lips parted. Her body tensed. And then—without warning—she rushed into his arms and clung to him, trembling as sobs broke loose.
And Haru let her. He wrapped his arms around her carefully, like she might shatter in his hands.
"You remember! But how?" she choked, her fingers clutching the fabric of his gown.
"That doesn't matter. What really matters right now is something I should've told you years ago. Mia, I—"
"No!" Mia barked suddenly, pulling back, fear and panic flashing across her face. She knew. Somehow, she already knew what was coming next. "You finally remember! You remember how much I love you and how much you loved me!"
Haru placed his hands on her shoulders, steady but gentle, and pushed her back just enough to meet her eyes.
"Mia, the truth is I never loved you," he said, every word deliberate and devastatingly slow. "It was always Sakura—and that's not her fault but mine."
Mia's face crumpled.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and seeing her like that—wrecked, raw—almost broke Haru's own heart, but he forced himself to go on.
"I didn't ask Sakura out because I thought she would never want me and I couldn't have her. Then, you came along, this bright ray of sunshine, and you served as a distraction from my cowardice. You were Sakura in my eyes."
Mia's sobs turned guttural, painful.
Haru bit his bottom lip hard, tasting blood, but he didn't stop.
"Since Sakura was always helping you in the sidelines, you became Sakura in my eyes, but when she left to Osaka, I saw the real you—and it wasn't someone I was in love with."
"Why?" Mia sobbed, voice cracking in agony.
"We don't get to choose who we fall in love with. Mia, you deserve so much better," Haru said, voice breaking. "It's my fault, not Sakura's. And leaving you at the altar that day was a dick move on my part. But Sakura had nothing to do with this."
"Forget about Sakura! Marry me! I'll be whoever you want me to be… just please don't leave me," Mia cried, her hands tugging desperately at her hair, as if trying to tear the pain right out of herself.
Haru's chest caved inward with guilt. He had done this to her.
"Mia, I'm sorry but I love Sakura. It's always going to be Sakura. She doesn't deserve any of this. If there's anyone to blame—it's me. I'm the one who played with your feelings, Sakura had nothing to do with this… and I know deep inside your heart you know that too."
Mia collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, the weight of years crashing down on her all at once.
It wasn't Sakura's fault the groom didn't love his bride.
She had just needed someone—anyone—to blame for the loneliness that hollowed her out.
"Think about the person you've become, Mia. The terrible things you've done to Sakura all because… I manipulated your feelings," Haru said quietly, shame painting his every word. "Blame me. Not her."
Mia lifted her head, her whole body trembling with rage and grief.
"You want me to blame you? Easy. You toyed with my feelings, you didn't tell Sakura you loved her, you used me for six fucking years! You proposed to me when you had the chance to walk away and tell me the truth! You kissed my best friend in front of me on our wedding day! You… left me at the altar, looking like a total fool," Mia shouted, her voice cracking under the weight of it all.
The words she'd kept buried tore from her in a wild, broken rush.
"But—but for some reason I can't blame you for what I did to Sakura," Mia whispered through the remnants of her sobs. "I put myself in that position. I ignored Kei's words. I went against my own morals and everything I believed in because… because—"
"Because you were heartbroken with no one there by your side. No one who remembered, at least," Haru finished quietly.
Mia wiped her swollen, red eyes, trying to compose herself, but the brokenness in her movements made it clear she was barely holding herself together.
"I don't know how I'm going to face Sakura—or anyone for that matter. I've done terrible things. A simple sorry won't suffice."
Mia stood there, trembling, the words clawing at her throat.
And then—like something inside her finally shattered—she spoke again.
"I lied to her," Mia sobbed, the words ripping from her chest.
"I told Sakura that Katy and Himari were bullying me... when they weren't.
I knew she'd confront them.
I wanted her to look bad—to make everyone at university hate her, including you.
I wanted you to think badly of her.
Haru didn't say anything.
He just watched her, eyes dull, sadness carved into every line of his face.
Mia's breath hitched violently.
"But that wasn't enough," she rasped, her voice cracking.
"At the mixer…" she squeezed her eyes shut, barely able to force the words out. "I spiked her drink. I wanted her to lose control. I wanted Kenji to touch her, to ruin her. I even paid Ryo to take pictures, to make her look like... like some cheap slut."
She covered her face with both hands, sobbing into her palms.
"She trusted me," Mia whimpered through her tears.
"And I betrayed her. I destroyed her."
The sterile hospital room closed in around them, suffocating.
"And it was all to prove to myself that you will always love me!" she cried, her voice breaking entirely.
"Because I thought she stole you from me. Because I hated her for having what I wanted."
Mia fell to her knees, crumpling under the weight of her own sins.
"I sold her to Kenji," she whispered, so low it barely carried across the room. "I let him... assault her. Because I was angry. Because I wanted her to suffer like I did. But it wasn't her fault. It was never her."
Each word seemed to cut deeper than the last.
"And Aoi…" she whispered, shaking.
"I dated your brother. I used him. Just to get closer to you, Haru. I didn't care about anyone else. Not him. Not her. Not myself."
Haru sat motionless, breathing heavily, like every confession was a stone crushing down on his chest.
"I know," he said quietly, hollowly.
Mia flinched, looking up at him with swollen, red-rimmed eyes.
She had expected him to scream at her, to rage, to hate her.
But there was only sadness there—something far worse.
"I know know what you did, Mia," Haru said, his voice empty.
Mia bowed her head to the floor, her body wracked with broken sobs.
"I ruined everything," she cried, her voice shattering. I ruined myself."
The door creaked open.
A nurse entered, bright and oblivious to the wreckage.
"What would you like to eat, sir?" she asked sweetly, pushing a tray of food toward Haru's bedside.
Mia staggered to her feet, wiping her tear-streaked face with trembling hands.
She didn't say a word.
Didn't look at Haru again.
With a heavy, dragging step, she walked to the door.
She paused for the briefest second—like she might turn back—but she didn't.
She pushed the door open and left, the soft click behind her louder than any goodbye.
Haru stared at the empty space she had left behind.
The food sat untouched beside him.
He didn't move.
He couldn't.