Pathway to Japanese Literature

The Incident Nine Years Prior

After seeing her husband Dr. Matsunami off to work and returning to the sitting room, Sawayo received a sealed letter.
On the back was written merely Tomihisa-chō, Ushigome Ward.
Given his profession, letters from unknown senders were hardly unusual, but this one—written in a delicate feminine hand with no return name—compelled her curiosity. Despite being a confidential letter addressed to her husband, she opened it.

"The salutation 'Master!' first clouded her brow; her temper flaring, she began to read."

"You may find this sudden matter beyond belief upon hearing it, Master; yet I implore you to read through this unembellished tale of mine to its very end—heed this most earnest plea of mine."

"I trust that even now, nine years later, you retain vivid memory in your heart's deepest chambers of a girl called Hana who once served as a chambermaid in your household."

"That Hana had won the master's favor became precisely what provoked the madam's displeasure, ultimately resulting in her dismissal."

Half a year later, the madam of the household was pleased to safely deliver a jewel-like young master.
A day apart, Hana too gave birth to a boy.
Though sharing the same father, one was Young Master Tatsuya—the honorable heir of Baron Matsunami, a flourishing young lawyer soon to inherit a magnificent household—a figure of illustrious station.
The other was a poor illegitimate child born bearing a dark fate, destined to tread a path of thorns.

For my child to take after his father, I presumed to borrow one character from your esteemed surname and named him Matsukichi.
Though I repeatedly pleaded for you to grant me even a single glance at him, Master—heartlessly dismissing it all as baseless with a curt “I recall no such thing”—not only did you refuse to look upon dear Matsukichi’s face, but in the end denounced it as blackmail and delivered my father into the hands of the police.

Hana resented that icy treatment with all her heart.
Clenching her teeth in frustration and considering every angle through endless deliberation, she devised a revenge plot and whispered it to him; her kind-hearted father trembled violently, shocked at its recklessness and refusing to engage with it for the longest time. But as you showed such utterly heartless conduct, Master—father finally steeled his resolve and gave his consent.

And this is how we carried it out.

One evening, Father and Hana stole into the familiar mansion grounds and kept watch.
It was precisely the day of the shrine visit; the estate teemed with celebrating guests, their bright laughter drifting endlessly from the reception room.
When at last the guests withdrew to the dining hall, the wet nurse—cradling Young Master Tatsuya—slipped into a quiet side chamber and exhaled wearily.
After laying the young master upon a small cot, she started upright and stepped into the corridor—likely bound for the water closet.

In that moment, Hana swiftly switched Matsukichi—the child she held—with Young Master Tatsuya.
Whether by fortune or misfortune, the two were exact duplicates at that time.

The wet nurse who returned there stood frozen in shock, unable to move a muscle.
Father suddenly thrust a dagger before her and threatened, “Make a sound and you’re dead!”
Yet the wet nurse proved unexpectedly composed and capable.
There was no helping it now—whether she cried or made a fuss, the Young Master’s form had vanished; swaddled and sleeping lay Matsukichi in soiled birth garments, while Young Master Tatsuya—held firmly in Hana’s arms without so much as a whimper—had already fled ahead.

If she cried out, she’d be killed; if she stayed silent, she’d be reprimanded by her employer for negligence—yet the wet nurse said nothing. She undressed Matsukichi, handed his clothes to Father, then took out a new white silk birth garment from the cupboard and dressed him in it. And thus Matsukichi successfully impersonated Young Master Tatsuya.

From that day onward, Matsukichi was raised with utmost care as the young lord of the baronial household.

As for Young Master Tatsuya—now bearing the name Matsukichi—he grew up in a corner of the tunnel-dwelling tenements.
(Hereafter I shall call the young master Matsukichi.) Hana turned deaf ears to all marriage proposals pressed upon her, laboring solely with her father while finding joy in Matsukichi’s development—until last winter, when a mere cold contracted by the boy developed into pneumonia.

Though not my own flesh and blood, I had grown fiercely attached to him and resolved to save him at any cost. I sought examinations from physicians far above our station and purchased costly medicines to administer—for we of meager means, this imposed hardships beyond measure.

If only I had money!
The thought that Matsukichi’s life could have been saved—it became unbearable, and though knowing it was wrong, Hana stole another’s belongings.
It was immediately discovered; she was apprehended and sent to prison.
Sadly, during that absence, dear Matsukichi died.
The life Hana had sought to save even through criminal means was taken away.

To dwell on such thoughts drives me mad—I’ll die!
Yes—I should follow him in death—I even resolved.
The sorrow of losing a beloved child!
That is something one could never truly comprehend unless having endured it oneself.

At that moment, what suddenly came to mind was Young Master Tatsuya.
The one who died was not my own child—my real child still lived, still breathed in this world—indeed, was he not attending Gakushūin as the baron’s heir? With this thought, I could no longer endure a single moment longer, and from that moment began prowling near the mansion.
After several days, I finally caught sight of the Young Master—there he was, an adorable figure returning from school with his leather school backpack strapped to his back. Suppressing my urge to rush forward, my heart leaping with resurrected joy, I fixed my gaze upon his face.
But now, I could no longer endure merely watching his figure from afar; I found myself unable to bear gazing upon my own child as another’s.
Young Master—no—Tatsuya-sama is none other than my child; he is my child.
I wanted to tightly embrace my own child; hugging him, hugging him, I didn’t want to let go—I didn’t want to hand him over to anyone anymore.

Please, Master, return my child to me. Should you deem my words false, I shall present proof.

Young Master Tatsuya bears beneath his arm a red birthmark the size of a fingertip’s prick; his lower lip surely carries a mole identical to Hana’s own. Yet these outward marks might be dismissed as baseless claims—but regarding the heredity of constitution, I maintain there can be no dispute.
Both Master and Madam possess splendid physiques, and—if I may be so bold—your complexions are not of a fair hue.
Yet despite this, Young Master Tatsuya has a sickly constitution with pale, clammy skin—and there is another matter I had resolved to keep secret forever, but given these circumstances, I shall now lay it bare.

How far must misfortune pursue the wretched? In Hana’s bloodline flows tainted blood—terrifying even to contemplate.
My maternal grandmother was driven out of the house upon falling ill and disappeared without a trace after setting off on a journey.
And when Hana was three years old, her mother also entrusted her to her father and vanished forever—her very survival remains unknown.
In addition to a tubercular constitution—

Were you to learn that Young Master Tatsuya—who has inherited this accursed blood—stands as one destined to deign inheriting an illustrious, venerable household, you would surely not refuse to return him.

Matsukichi, raised in Hana’s care, stood in stark contrast—a sturdy child with sun-darkened skin and robust health.
Yet though Hana herself might be frail and bear this cursed inheritance within her veins, she still burned with longing for her own flesh and blood.
As for witnesses to that long-ago night—why, they say that very wet nurse stands ready to emerge from shadows when called.
“I beg you, Master—return my child to me—”

Sawayo no longer had the courage to read further; this unexpected letter plunged her heart into utter darkness.

I remembered there being a maid called Hana—a delicate beauty like a crimson peach blossom; I also recalled how the other plain-faced maids had often lamented that because of that girl, the errand boys wouldn’t leave the kitchen doorway.
Though somewhat precocious for seventeen, she was a clever and quick-witted girl—Sawayo had grown fond of her, and her husband too had taken quite a liking to her.
Sawayo had been severely weakened by morning sickness and was recuperating at their Hakone villa; during this absence, Hana had requested leave and returned home. As no formal inquiry was made into her reasons for departing, Sawayo had known nothing of the matter.

Until this very moment, Sawayo had never dreamed that her upright husband could harbor such an ugly aspect.
Since it came from prison, it must be a prisoner’s letter.
Perhaps this was a fabrication by some woman dissatisfied with her husband’s legal defense—a serpentine vengeance meant to destroy their family’s peace. She tried to dismiss it in her heart, thinking that falling for such a thing would make her a laughingstock, but then again—the seed of doubt reared its head once more.

Half-believing yet unable to dismiss it entirely as groundless—this plunged Sawayo’s heart into gloom. It was true: Tatsuya’s sickly frailty puzzled even their family doctor, given both parents’ robust constitutions—and so at last doubt swelled within her chest. Yet despite this, she found herself unwilling to show the letter to her husband or demand an explanation.

For Dr. Matsunami and his wife were such a devoted couple that Sawayo resolved to settle this matter secretly alone—especially now when he had been entrusted with defending a prominent case and was wholly engrossed day and night. She could not bear to disturb his mind with this vexing tale of uncertain truth; even if factual, it must have been a momentary lapse—was that not precisely why he had refused Hana’s appeals? To laugh away such trivial missteps would mark a wife who truly loved her husband.

“After all, there’s no such thing as a human without fault—” Sawayo declared as if persuading herself, then placed the letter inside the drawer and snapped the lock shut with finality.

The woman in the conical sedge hat.

A week later, Sawayo received the same letter again—this time not from prison.

"If you do not respond, I will kidnap the Young Master; I will expose the Matsunami baronial family's secrets as the dark underbelly of a respectable household"—such threatening phrases filled the page.

Sawayo wanted to meet Hana directly and resolve matters through discussion, but despite her efforts to locate her whereabouts, she found herself completely unable to do so.
The thought of her husband—a man celebrated as a paragon of virtue—being exposed for impregnating a maid was unbearable; for her husband's disgrace would become her own disgrace—

Days of anguish continued.

Sawayo, finally driven to desperation, visited her cousin—a female doctor practicing in Shiba—and asked various questions about hereditary constitution, but the results only served to darken her heart.

The cousin, knowing nothing, gazed at Sawayo’s earnest face with a quizzical look,

“Is it neurasthenia again? Worrying about such things—are you saying you want to arrange a bride for Tatsu-chan already? Ohohohohoho. You’re getting ahead of yourself. He’s only nine, isn’t he?” she laughed.

Sawayo forced a smile and asked earnestly, “Can you tell whether it’s hereditary just by looking?”

“There are things that can be understood, and things that cannot.”
“In any case, even if you were to arrange a betrothal for the Matsunami heir, you must thoroughly investigate the other family’s bloodline—because it’s frightening, you know.”

Just then, an automobile arrived from the patient’s home to fetch her.

“Sawayo-san, I’ll be right back—”

She stood up,

“While you wait, have the pharmacy prepare a sedative and drink a little of it. Your nerves seem quite frayed—”

After seeing her cousin out to the entrance, she took the opportunity to step into the pharmacy, but unfortunately no one was there; so she requested that the medicine be delivered to her residence and left her cousin’s house.

Sawayo retraced her memories from nine years prior, summoned a fellow maid named Kiyo who had worked alongside her at the time, and inquired about various matters from those days.
However, she did not know about Hana’s subsequent whereabouts.

If, as the letter stated, Tatsuya was not Sawayo’s biological child—then naturally, he could not be permitted to inherit this household. An heir would have to be chosen from among the relatives, but bringing this before the family council would be agonizing—for she would have to explain the reason—.

The problem had lodged itself in her mind—she could not forget it for a moment, tormented ceaselessly.

From that day onward, Sawayo began directing an unceasing watchful eye toward Tatsuya. His elegant features—the very image of a young master from a distinguished household no matter the angle—made it impossible to imagine him as some maid’s bastard child; people remarked he took after Mother. Tatsuya was her son—whatever anyone might claim. How could anyone but his true parent have nurtured such a sickly child? In Sawayo’s mind surfaced memories of his countless childhood illnesses and endless nights spent sleepless at his bedside. She had performed nursing even professional nurses couldn’t manage—how could anyone but blood kin accomplish such devotion?

“Mother—I’m home.”

With a clatter, Tatsuya burst into the tearoom.
Still wearing his randoseru, he leaned against his mother’s knee and rubbed his face against hers like an affectionate child as he said—

“Mother, can I go see the falconry?”

“Where are you going?”

“The vacant lot in the side street.—Mother, please come with me! I want to try falconry too!”

Mother removed the randoseru from Tatsuya’s neck,

“What exactly happens in falconry? Is it dangerous?” she asked.

“Dangerous? Not at all—it’s ever so fun!”

“Is that so? Then show Mother too.”

“Everyone does it, Mother—they release the hawks to catch sparrows and pigeons, and it’s ever so fun! Takeda-kun said it makes you feel just like an old samurai from long ago!”

Urged on by Tatsuya, Sawayo went out—indeed, the center of the vacant lot was crowded with people.
When she peered through the throng, she saw performers running a children’s business by mimicking the newly popular falconry.

It was a grand estate’s former grounds; where the garden had been, trees still stood untouched.
At a pine tree’s base stood a young woman in a sedge-woven hat, her attire crisply arranged.
The antiquated outfit seemed deliberate—a purple haori draped over her kimono, pale yellow tabi visible beneath the shortened hem—presenting a clean and elegant figure.
The hat’s red cord pressed into her white chin, heightening her beauty; such novelty kept every spectator’s gaze fixed upon this striking falconer.

Once a sizable crowd had gathered, she transferred the goshawk perched on the T-shaped perch to her hand and proclaimed in a ringing voice:

“First, allow me to demonstrate the calling up and calling down.”

She released the hawk into the pine tree, rattled the feed box to summon it back to her arm, then called it up into the pine again; after completing this sequence,

“Next comes the transfer flight—come now, someone please lend me your shoulder.”
“The hawk will fly over to you, so—”

From the crowd sprang a man in a mottled overcoat.
With a heavy rustle of wings, the hawk alighted on his shoulder.
The spectators erupted in delight.

As the training demonstration ended, true falconry commenced.

The man in his fifties who had been crouching at the rear abruptly stood up,

“Come on, everyone! Sparrows or pigeons—go all out and splurge on pigeons! Sparrows for ten sen—pigeons for thirty sen—Boys and girls, come on, come on! Catch ’em alive for a souvenir!”

he shouted hoarsely.
At the man’s feet lay a cloth-wrapped birdcage; inside it, pigeons and sparrows were packed tightly together.

A voice called out from among the spectators.

“Sparrow!”
“Here’s ten sen—”

Clink!
The white copper coin struck a pebble.
The man promptly turned up the corner of the cloth wrapper and pulled out a single sparrow.
The beautiful falconer approached the child who had thrown ten sen, put leather gloves on his small hands, and transferred the goshawk perched on her left hand to him.

“Young master, when that man releases the sparrow, release the hawk vigorously—swiftly.
“Get into the spirit of falconry—. Does that suit you?”

The child blushed crimson with apparent embarrassment, but all the onlookers watched with envious eyes.

The man shouted a spirited call as he released the sparrow vigorously into the clear blue sky. At the same moment, the hawk left the child’s hand.

While the spectators were making a commotion with their “Ah! Ah!”, the hawk, well-trained as it was, leisurely pursued the sparrow, swooped back to the ground, and pinned it with its talons. Being thoroughly trained, it made no clumsy move that would injure the sparrow.

The beautiful falconer ran up, released the sparrow from the hawk, and had the child hold it.

“Here you go—a souvenir. The little sparrow that you caught, young master—it’s falconry’s prey.”

The child triumphantly returned home holding the sparrow.
Tatsuya, excited, gripped his mother’s hand and flailed his legs while watching.
At that moment, in a fleeting expression, Sawayo clearly saw Hana’s likeness—she gasped as if struck through the chest, involuntarily shaking off Tatsuya’s hand she had been gripping. It wasn’t just his face; even his figure, leaping about in excitement, resembled Hana exactly. Every part of him bore traces of her features.

Sawayo felt a slight dizziness.
The thought that her husband might be secretly cherishing that resemblance—when this occurred to her, she couldn’t bear it.

The spectators were enjoying themselves with apparent amusement, their carefree delight filling the air; amidst them, Sawayo alone was lost in deep contemplation.

“Tatsuya, let’s go home now.”

“Mother, I still don’t want to go home yet.”

Tatsuya made no attempt to leave the spot.

Hawk’s Talon

From that day onward, the beautiful falconer manifested her vengeful silhouette daily in the vacant lot.
By evening retreats, the birdcage lay barren—sparrows and pigeons alike sold out—their commerce thriving relentlessly.

Tatsuya’s falconry fever showed no signs of abating.
Every day he brought home one or two captured sparrows. He kept them in a newly purchased large birdcage, but for some reason, they kept dying one after another.

Exactly seven days had passed since the falconer first appeared.

As Sawayo returned from her outing and was about to ascend the inner entrance steps, the area before the gate suddenly grew clamorous, and the sound of numerous footsteps racing across the gravel spoke of an extraordinary event.
"What could this be?"

As she stepped back into the kicked-off sandals and was about to exit the inner entrance, a man leading a crowd of children came rushing into the grounds.
The man at the front was laboriously carrying Tatsuya.
Tatsuya lay collapsed limply in the man’s arms, his face and neck smeared with blood.
The children who had trailed along after them exchanged uneasy glances, whispering among themselves.

“Tatsuya! Tatsuya!”

Sawayo ran up, took Tatsuya from the man’s hands, and while tightly embracing him, called out his name.
Tatsuya barely opened his eyes, looked up at his mother’s face, and managed a faint smile at the corners of his mouth, but then closed his eyes again.

She pressed a handkerchief against the flowing blood while,

“Quickly—call a doctor! What on earth happened?”

Having heard her speak as if to no one in particular, the children answered in unison.

“Auntie, he got caught by the hawk’s talon!”

“The hawk’s disposition was poor today.”

“It wasn’t the hawk’s fault—it was the sparrow’s! The sparrow lost its escape route and perched on Tatsuya’s shoulder. Then the hawk swooped down—if only he’d stayed still, but he panicked and thrashed about. That startled the hawk too, and just as it grabbed the sparrow, its talon dug into his throat, Auntie,” explained the precocious girl, recounting the incident’s details.

Dr. Matsunami, startled by the emergency report, returned home.
By the time the doctor arrived, Tatsuya had somewhat regained his strength.

Sawayo was keeping vigil at the bedside with a pale face.

“Tatsuya, you must stay strong—this little injury is nothing at all,” she encouraged.

“That’s right.
“Tatsuya’s a boy—he can’t let something like this defeat him.”

Even as he said this, anxiety was plainly evident on the father’s face.
The parents did nothing but watch the doctor’s complexion, their hearts jolted at every twitch of his brow.

After finishing the treatment, the doctor slowly began to speak.

“As long as there’s no fever, there should be nothing to worry about,” he said before leaving.

Sawayo tried calling her usual nursing association, but unfortunately none of their familiar nurses were available; the chairman said they could arrange something if they waited until morning.
With Tatsuya being so sensitive, he’d never accept an unfamiliar nurse—since there was no alternative but to wait until dawn, Sawayo steeled herself to keep vigil through the night.

“Madam, the beautiful falconer has come to apologize,” said the maid. “When I explained the young master’s condition in detail, she kept saying ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ through tears. She insists on meeting you personally to apologize—she’s waiting in the kitchen. What shall I do?”

Sawayo replied irritably, “Tell her I’m occupied and cannot receive visitors—send her away at once!”

Dr. Matsunami called the police to inform them of the incident’s details, then mentioned that the beautiful falconer had come to apologize and requested that she be questioned.

Before long, police officers came and took the falconer away.

Sawayo touched Tatsuya’s forehead and,
“It’s all right. At this rate, there’s no sign of a fever.”
With that, she let out a sigh.
But he finally developed a fever.
He would drift into a drowse only to startle awake in terror,

“The hawk—! The hawk—!”
He bolted upright on the futon and screamed in terror.

“Please calm down. Tatsuya, the hawk won’t hurt you anymore.”

She gently pressed his head—burning like fire—down onto the ice pillow and applied an ice pack to his forehead.

Tatsuya continued muttering deliriously all night, writhing in terrible agony.

By the time the doctor arrived near dawn, there was nothing left to be done—Tatsuya had slipped into a deep sleep and finally entered critical condition.

The doctor crossed his arms and stood deep in thought for some time before hesitantly speaking.

“Even if sepsis developed from bacteria entering the wound... well, there’s something that doesn’t quite add up here. Might I ask that another physician examine him? Or perhaps observe during the examination—”

he trailed off evasively.

It was only natural that the doctor refused to write the death certificate; as would later become clear, a certain terrifying poison had entered through the wound.

Under suspicion that poison had been applied to the hawk’s talon, authorities extended their investigation to the beautiful falconer who had previously been released.
The woman had already disappeared, but was soon apprehended in Mikawashima's Hyakken Nagaya.

A strict interrogation was conducted, but she did nothing but cry and refused to answer anything.

One detective investigated the woman’s background and reported to the judicial officer.

“Iwashita Hana, twenty-seven years old. Has a prior criminal record.”
“A thief—just released from prison.”

“Is the man with her her husband?”

“No, he’s her father.”
“She has never been formally married, but she had an illegitimate child.”

“A boy?”
“A girl?”

“It was a boy—but he died. She used to run a quite successful bird shop, but after closing it down, she’d apparently struggled terribly these past few years. Recently, she started that business catering to children.”
“She claimed there’d been falconers among her ancestors—that’s why she took it up, or so she said.”

“Did she earn decently through falconry?”

“She apparently made a fair amount, but with debts eating into her earnings, she’d complain to neighbors there was no point trying harder.”
“When the child fell gravely ill, they say the debts from that time tormented her.”

“How old was the child when he died?”

“Nine years old.”

“Hmm.”

The judicial officer summoned the beautiful falconer and gently began the interrogation.

“By what reasoning did you decide to murder Dr. Matsunami’s esteemed son?”

The woman started, her beautiful eyes widening in shock,

“Are you saying I meant to kill him?!”

“Hmm.”

“That’s absurd! Why—would I do such a terrible thing—”

“Are you denying it? However, Dr. Matsunami’s esteemed son passed away this morning at dawn.”

“What?!”

She turned deathly pale in an instant, unsteadily rose to her feet, then staggered and grabbed the back of the chair.

“Master, th-that’s—is that true?”

“The poison on the hawk’s talon—no, he was killed by poison applied to the talon. You deliberately made the hawk claw him, didn’t you? What reason did you have for doing such a thing? State your reason. If you don’t confess truthfully, it won’t just be you—your father will also face terrible suspicion as an accomplice.”

“Master, you mustn’t jest like that. I don’t recall applying any poison. Ah—but what should I do—has that young master truly passed away? That—ah—can that really be true?”

“It’s true. Today is the funeral.”

The woman burst into tears.
She had been crying for a long time, but eventually raised a face so pure and beautiful it seemed her very soul had been cleansed by tears, even managing a faint smile as she gazed up intently at the judicial officer.
Her beautiful, glistening eyes now showed deep resolve.
The woman bit her pale lips and said firmly.

“Master, I deeply apologize.
“I confess.
“The one who killed the Young Master—it was indeed I.”

“Why did you kill him?”

“I am someone who previously served at that mansion.
“The child I bore at that time was nine years old—the same age as that Young Master—and recently passed away.
“My child died.
“Moreover, being poor, I couldn’t provide proper care and ended up letting a life that could have been saved slip away.
“When I thought of how the Young Master—born at the same time—was living in happiness and being raised so splendidly, while my own son... I felt both envy and bitterness.
“Yet still, whenever I longed to see my dead child, I would wander near that mansion and watch the Young Master.
“After starting my falconry business, I could see him every day in that vacant lot and sometimes even speak with him.
“How joyful that was!
“It was as if I had been practicing falconry there solely to wait for him.
“The Young Master would come daily, finding it amusing.
“I would hurry to that vacant lot with the same joy as meeting my deceased son.
“Whenever I imagined my own child being born into a splendid mansion like his and possessing an esteemed father... it became unbearably pitiful.
“That thought gradually festered until I even came to resent him.
“Was that jealousy? One day when he came with Mother to watch, anger surged through me for no reason—I madly set the hawk upon him and was scolded by Father.
“It wasn’t so much hatred for him as irritation at Madam’s attitude.
“As I approached to put leather gloves on him, overwhelmed by his adorable-ness, I unconsciously patted his head.
“Then Madam frowned, brushed my hand away like something filthy, and put the gloves on him herself—determined not to let someone like me touch even a finger to his body.
“Seeing that, I snapped and resolved to kill him—to make Mother taste my same grief.”

“You’ve never been formally married, but who’s the father of your child?”

The woman looked up sharply and fell silent for a moment, then suddenly adopted a resigned recklessness,

“It was a young court clerk—oh, what a handsome man he was, Ohoho-hohoho!” she laughed hysterically.

Suicide Note

Sawayo, having lost her only son Tatsuya, had become utterly despondent, shutting herself away in a room and wallowing in grief.

Upon hearing that the culprit was the beautiful falconer—that is, the former maid Hana—Dr. Matsunami was utterly astonished.

Sawayo asked what judgment would be passed upon her.

“Of course, it’s the death penalty.—Outrageous.”
“That woman must receive the death penalty—how could she not?—”

Madam fainted.

That night, Sawayo committed suicide.

Amidst the unending misfortune, the public deeply sympathized with Dr. Matsunami.
The newspapers reported that Madam’s suicide was due to extreme nervous breakdown stemming from grief over losing her beloved child.

Of course, Dr. Matsunami himself had been utterly convinced of this; however, the unexpected discovery of a Western book and a suicide note inside her handbox completely overturned the fundamental cause of her death.
The Western book had a mouse-gray cover with Franz Abel’s Toxicology printed on it, and page ninety-two was dog-eared.

Dr. Matsunami opened the suicide note, his heart pounding.

“If you have read through the enclosed documents, you will understand that what I have declared contains no falsehood.”

These words stood at the beginning, enclosing two letters from the maid Hana.
Dr. Matsunami first read them and was aghast.

Sawayo’s suicide note had meticulously documented the torment she had endured since reading those letters.
And at the end, this had been appended:

"I secretly conducted all investigations alone.
It is regrettably true that I was initially skeptical; I also learned everything from Kiyo, the fellow servant—how ample compensation had been provided under the promise to prevent future issues while cutting ties with Hana during my stay at the Hakone villa.
Needless to say, Tatsuya was Hana’s child, and I confirmed the fact that Hana’s family carried that dreadfully tainted blood.
I could not bear to leave a stain on the distinguished bloodline of the Matsunami family; I felt inexcusably accountable to our ancestors.
Tatsuya himself, born inheriting such a constitution, could never lead a happy life. Thinking of the family, thinking of Tatsuya’s future, I hardened my heart and resolved to eradicate this abhorrent taint.
If by any chance it became known that you were receiving such threats from Hana, what would become of your esteemed reputation? With Tatsuya gone, the material for blackmail would vanish.
I steeled my resolve and secretly studied Franz Abel’s works while deepening my research in pharmacology and toxicology.
This was absolutely not to conceal the crime.
It arose from a heart that loved Tatsuya—from contemplating how I might let him depart this world most peacefully, as if drifting into sleep.
When Tatsuya sustained injuries from the hawk’s talons, I suddenly saw my chance and applied the poison I had prepared beforehand—stolen earlier from my cousin’s pharmacy—to his wound in the dead of night."

I was the one who killed Tatsuya.
Hana knows nothing of this.
When I learned she had confessed to killing Tatsuya, I became terrified.
I believe that clever Hana saw through my intentions and resolved to take the blame upon herself.

If the innocent Hana were to receive the death penalty, then even if I were to die and apologize, it would not suffice.
Having had her own beloved child killed and then shielding the culprit while seeking her own execution—I was struck by Hana’s resolve.
That must not be allowed.
I shall die to atone; please forgive me for killing Tatsuya; take pity on this foolish heart of mine; if nothing else, deign to understand me—if only you alone would.

I reiterate my plea.
"Hana bears no guilt; please, save her—this is my final entreaty."

When Dr. Matsunami met with the beautiful falconer, the first words he uttered were:

“Why did you falsely confess to killing Tatsuya?”

Hana answered without raising her face, crying all the while:

“At the very least, if I didn’t do even that, I would have had no way to apologize to Madam.”
“When I think about it, there is no woman as wicked as I—I’ve utterly exhausted all goodwill.”
“I only ever thought of what was convenient for myself; even when I switched Matsukichi, it was solely to bring happiness to my own child, and without considering the trouble I caused others, I committed that terrible crime without hesitation.”
“And this time, using that as a pretext, I blackmailed her relentlessly and caused Madam immense suffering.”
“Despite that, she neither resented me nor blamed me—truly, what a kind-hearted person Madam was.”
“When I heard that Master Tatsuya had passed away—ah, I realized what a terrible thing I had done—my eyes were opened for the first time.”
“And I pressed my hands together in prayer and bowed deeply to Madam.”
“I saw Madam’s heart with perfect clarity.”
“I’m the one who drove her this far—the cause all stems from me. Even though I didn’t lay a hand on him, it’s as if I killed him.”
“Both Master Tatsuya and Matsukichi have died, and I no longer feel any will to live.”
“As even the slightest atonement for my sins, I wanted to accept the murder charge and be granted the death penalty.”

Not long after that, newspapers were abuzz with articles about Dr. Matsunami—the most brilliant legal mind in the profession—volunteering to mount a chivalrous defense for the beautiful falconer accused of killing his heir.