Dear Deidara,
Haruko almost broke her quill as she emphatically crossed out the word dear. The paper tore beneath the tip, and she threw it away, reaching for another sheet.
She had to swallow the lump that was building in her throat. In this small inn room, she felt claustrophobic, smothered by the intimate lighting and the sounds of her nephew and niece breathing. She looked at Akio and Tsukiko where they slept, huddled in bed together. The little boy's golden blond hair was tangled with his twin sister's own. It was just like Deidara's.
Haruko took a couple deep breaths for control. She began to write again, fighting to be detailed, but distant.
Deidara,
I apologize for my absence and that of my sister and your children with her. I regret...
She almost broke her quill again. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she finished the sentence mentally. ( I regret that we met you. I regret that we both fell in love with you. I regret that she won your heart. I regret that I hated her for it. I regret... )
She realized she was crying when the first tears splashed to the paper. She pressed her lips in a thin, firm line to muffle the noise she wanted to make. She squeezed her stinging eyes shut till her brow hurt from the tight knit it had adopted.
It was liberating to acknowledge her emotional instability right now. She was angry, sad and scared, and she was living for one purpose: two children. The twins were four years old and fathered by a member of the Akatsuki. She couldn't give up for their sakes.
She discarded the formal letter and selected a third sheet of paper. She thought, ( Natsumi, help me... ), and then wrote.
Dear Deidara,
As you know, something has happened. I know you've already been to our former inn, because you never missed a chance to take Akio and Tsukiko to the Summer Festival. It was kind of funny. Of anniversaries, birthdays and holidays, nothing brought you back to us like night after night of fireworks.
A group of ninja from Suna came to call about a week ago. They wanted to stay throughout the Summer Festival for security related reasons. Natsumi said we were booked solid.
She was never good at lying, was she? Nor acting. I'll always remember the first and only play she tried out for with fondness and laughter. I'll remember everything about her with love.
There's no easy way I can tell you this. Natsumi is dead. She died resisting apprehension by them for interrogation. You probably saw our inn crawling with them when you arrived, or maybe worse. I'll pray for your safety if I can locate a shrine.
We're on an adventure. At least that's what I told Akio and Tsukiko. We're traveling to Kusa no Kuni where I've had an offer for work. I've always been the most formal of my family, and that should serve me well.
Let's make a promise to each other. You promise you won't blame yourself for her death, and I'll do the same. We couldn't keep your involvement a secret forever, but you should've seen how excited she'd get when the season began to change and the temperatures climbed. I couldn't have saved her, so slipping out with Akio and Tsukiko was the best thing I could've done.
Please visit the three of us in the garden. We'll wait there, separated from the troubles of the world of men.
Haruko
She folded the paper and moved to slide it discreetly behind the mirror in the tiny bathroom, avoiding the teary eyes of the young woman in the mirror with her raven hair and sun bronzed skin. Her trembling fingers knocked a vial of bathing oil from the counter that she never cleaned up before crawling into the unoccupied bed. It was time to sleep away the fleeting hours before she could continue to her new home.