A/N: To make sure no one gets lost: Words in written normally are what's currently happening, words written in italics are from the letter!

For those of you that have read "Peaches and Truths" by the user, SpringofInkedDreams...yes this is the same thing, and yes, I am that user. My stupid gmail account got deleted for some odd reason and I was unable to log into my account anymore. And my stupid brain can't recall my password...Oh, and yes, I am sorry for any of the upsets I have caused for my lack of recent uploads. Please forgive me!

From now on I'll be using this account.

Enjoy!

Dear Hinamori

Dear Hinamori

"Case number 132. The people of Kurakara versus…"

Dear Hinamori,

"Hitsugaya Toushiro"

I don't understand why I have decided to write this. Actually, as I am writing, I realize that there are many things I don't understand at all.

An officer of the court strides across the front of the court; she makes her way past a young man in handcuffs and his lawyer.

I don't know whether or not tomorrow will be my last day. I don't know why life was so harsh on us. And most importantly, I don't know if you will ever forgive me.

"…Charged with first-degree murder and domestic disorderly conduct."

All I know, is that tomorrow, I will be on trial; I know that you, who are hurting and lost right now, are the one who accused me; And I know that I don't hate you for this.

"…Court has decided on the penalty of execution…"

Because I know you don't remember.

Judge Yamamoto looks down at the young man. He can only see how messy his silver hair is on his lowered head.

"How does the defendant plead?"

But I do.

I can recall everything as if we just suffered our pasts yesterday.

The young man hides his face behind the shadows of his hair. He keeps his icy-ocean eyes on the ground.

Silence.

I never told you. Even if you had given me the chance to, I wouldn't have. I thought it was the right thing to do.

Now I'm having second thoughts.

"Not guilty." His lawyer answers for him.

I'm not sure what would make you happy anymore. I thought that simply protecting you from the evils of the world could save you from the common sickness called "pain".

But I failed.

The young woman in sitting next to the prosecution attorney snorts under her breath as she tucks a strand of dark hair back into her bun. She watches the defendant and wishes him the most discomfort he has ever felt.

So now I am here, wondering if it would be best to tell you about what really happened. Wondering, if doing so would save you—or destroy you.

So perhaps, it would be best,

"Prosecution, are you ready to commence?"

to let you decide whether or not to read on at this point.

The young woman keeps her cold eyes on the man and nods.

Because everything you will read

"Then let this trial begin."

is true.