The memory of that fateful day still lingered, a painful reminder of the argument that had torn you and Sakura apart. The sting of regret pierced your heart as you recalled the words "I hate you" - the last thing you'd said to him before he slipped into a coma. The image of Sakura lifeless on live television haunted you, a constant reminder of what could have been.

Racing to the hospital, your anxiety gave way to relief when you found Sakura breathing, albeit barely. But the doctor's words shattered your hopes: Sakura had fallen into a deep coma, with no clear prognosis for recovery. The uncertainty was suffocating.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Your daily visits gradually became less frequent, until you finally made the difficult decision to move on, accepting that Sakura might never wake up. You started anew, meeting someone who brought light and laughter into your life. Yet, Sakura's memory lingered, his face involuntarily superimposing itself onto your new love's.

Five years had passed since the accident. Sakura's eyes snapped open, his mind foggy and disoriented. Panic set in as he scrambled to recall what had happened. All he knew was that he'd been gone for an eternity, and his heart ached for you. Desperate to reunite, Sakura ripped off his IVs and fled the hospital room, his frail legs trembling beneath him.

As he stumbled toward your home, Sakura spotted you - arm in arm with a woman, your affectionate embrace a stark contrast to the desolation he felt. His heart sank, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. The world around him crumbled as he realized that, for you, life had simply moved on. You had found happiness, built a new life, and left the past behind.

The thought was suffocating: you had gotten everything you wanted, while Sakura's world had ended. He felt like a ghost, a relic of a past that you had discarded without a second thought. The realization shattered him, leaving Sakura lost and forsaken, a soul trapped in the ruins of his own heart.