He almost didn't, couldn't, understand how much it hurt to watch her walk away. Even he himself couldn't understand. All he knew is that with ever step she took, his strength was fading away and he wanted so badly to run to her and tell her all over again. He couldn't help the tears because it was his fault, he knew. He knew Akito would have never said yes. So he could go on living, knowing he had fixed most of his mistake. Fixed her. Because she was hurting as much as him, maybe more, and he knew she was the one she could understand it. She couldn't talk for weeks, save mumbled apologies, and the tears. He knew what to do. But God, it hurt and he wasn't that strong that he could just do it immediately. He should have done it when she cried every hour of the day and screamed out apologies, huddling alone in the corner of her room. But he had to wait and hope there was another way, but in the end, there wasn't. He had made a mistake again. And then he knew what he had to do, and he did it.
But even he sometimes wonders if there was a way he didn't think of... another mistake he made.