by Katharine Mussellam, Contributor

Of all the anime series that I watched as a teenager, few have stayed with me as much as Hakuoki has. A fictionalized account of the Shinsengumi, seen through the eyes of protagonist Chizuru Yukimura and set in the period of transition between the Edo and Meiji eras. It combines historical events with romance and fantasy that made, then as now, a compelling combination. As its setting suggests, it is fundamentally a story about change. The characters are changed not only be the historical events but also by their research into a mysterious medicine called the Water of Life. When drunk by a human, the Water of Life gives that person abilities similar to those of demons in the world of Hakuoki—namely enhanced strength and a body that heals faster than a human’s. Many of the characters drink this serum for its benefits, but they come at a price. That price is part of the tragic nature of the series’ story, and it made me cry on numerous occasions when I first watched the series as a teenager, but today it hits close to home now that I have a parent with cancer who takes medication that also comes at a price.

On the surface, the Water of Life seems like a miracle for the powers it grants to those who drink it, referred to as furies. When the powers granted by the serum are at their most active, the characters also physically transform; their hair turns white and their eyes glow red. However, from the start we are shown that many of the characters are wary of this medicine, since it has previously caused many Shinsengumi men to go mad. Even for the main characters who preserve their self-awareness after drinking a further developed Water of Life, its benefits come at a heavy price. Furies are sensitive to the sun, that essential source of life and pleasure for humans now making them feel unwell, and they become nocturnal. They also acquire a thirst for blood that is temporarily abated only by being given into that desire or by taking specially made medicine.

I have witnessed first-hand how important, life-saving medicine can come with trade-offs. Like the Water of Life does for those who drink it, chemotherapy, in its various forms, has kept my mom alive, but has also brought side effects. Along with the well-known side effect of hair loss, my mom has at various points also experienced varying degrees of fatigue, lost sleep, numbness and pain in her feet, and a sensitive stomach. She has to use her available energy in more strategic, measured ways, and some foods that she used to enjoy she now eats sparingly. Like a fury, she now relates differently to certain things that she once took for granted. Like a nocturnal fury, the way she interacts with the world is different because she has to live with the way these side effects have changed her.

However, these costs of taking chemotherapy never outweigh the fact that this has helped her to stay alive, and the choice to take the medicine was always obvious. There were reasons to be afraid, knowing from the start that, like the Water of Life, chemotherapy is simultaneously both a medicine and a poison. But there was no alternative than to deal with the challenge at hand. My mom shares that determination with the characters of Hakuoki who drink the Water of Life. The Shinsengumi’s colonel, Keisuke Sanan, takes the Water of Life early on to restore the use of an injured arm that had prevented him from using his sword, which was a vital thing for him, and to research the medicine for the benefit of the corps. Toshizo Hijikata, the vice commander and main male lead of the series, drinks it later on to help him fight on his path to becoming a true samurai.

My mom’s goals were perhaps not so lofty, but I think she has been just as determined. Like Heisuke Toudou, one of the Shinsengumi captains, my mom willingly chose to take chemo because, as Heisuke says to Chizuru about his decision to drink the Water of Life, there are still things she wants to do in life. In her case, she wants more time with her family. Choosing to take the medicine is not a battle with the disease, but simply a choice made to be able to move forward. I have done my best to help her through the worst so that we can enjoy the better moments. In this way, I connect to Chizuru, the protagonist of Hakuoki, more than ever.

Chizuru is a witness to each step of the Shinsengumi’s journey. She is sometimes helpless in the face of the events she cannot control. Her apparent helplessness and occasional crying, though not a constant throughout the series, is often a point of criticism for fans. But I understand her position, as there have been times when I have been helpless in the face of my mom’s cancer diagnosis, too. When my mom was taking a particular combination of medication that gave her terrible headaches, I couldn’t do anything except try to provide support as she waited them out, or listen to her as she cried, sometimes crying with her. But like Chizuru, I do what I can to help her deal with chemo’s side effects. Chizuru is always by the Shinsengumi’s side, cheering them up and supporting them, as I try to do for my mom. Though I don’t do anything as grand as giving up my own blood, as Chizuru does to help Hijikata stave off his bloodlust and help him to retain his strength, I offer what I can.

Hijikata worries about Chizuru’s offerings. Despite being a demon herself with the ability to heal quickly from wounds, it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t feel pain when she cuts her skin. In the last episode of the series’ second season, during one such instance, Hijikata says to her that he is concerned about the woman he loves enduring pain on his behalf. But Chizuru says he must understand that she doesn’t want to see the man she loves in pain. On my first viewing of the series, this moment would undoubtedly have been one that demonstrated the bond between these two characters. But today, it rings true in a way that is much closer to home. While it’s an exchange between a couple and not a parent and child, it now reminds me of things my mom has said to me.

Since she has begun going through periods of cancer treatment, I’ve had to help my mom with things that can sometimes be more difficult for her than before. I also do things to help to relieve some of her symptoms, like relieving her foot pain and helping to apply balms and lotions to her skin during a long period of hand and foot syndrome. My mom has said to me on more than one occasion that she was worried she was stifling me because of these extra things I’ve taken on. It’s true that some days I do things for her more willingly than on other days, either because I too am tired or simply don’t feel like doing them. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to finish chores alone that we’d started together. Some days these things feel bigger than others, and I can’t say I’m always as mild-mannered as Chizuru. But I’ve done what I had to anyway because I can’t see any alternative. I couldn’t live with not helping her. I don’t want her to feel alone. I want to do what I can to make her feel better, even if I can’t make the cancer or side effects go away or change the fact that even if chemo has extended her life, there will always be future moments together we have lost due of her diagnosis.

Chizuru knows she can’t fix everything or go back to when things were relatively simpler before the war, as she wistfully recalls at the end of the series. But she does not stand by idly when her loved ones face adversity. She is always there for them, whether that’s helping them to stay healthy by keeping the Shinsengumi compound clean, offering help from the sidelines of battle and passing along messages, or giving Hijikata her blood. Like Chizuru, I sometimes worry about not doing enough or inadvertently causing more problems, but like the members of the Shinsengumi, my mom assures me that I’m much for of a help than a hindrance. Seeing the similar interactions in the series serves as a reminder.

The Water of Life’s most tragic side effect is that its powers ultimately deplete an individual’s life force entirely. The more they use their increased strength, the more they shorten their life until they turn to dust. It effectively gives someone renewed life before ultimately taking that same life away. A fury loses more time every time they use their full power. Cancer, and the chemo used to treat it, has also taken time from us: days spent on hospital visits and the down days following them, things we didn’t go see because my mom didn’t have the energy. My mom is under no illusion that the cancer itself hasn’t shortened her life, even if we haven’t reached that end yet. Some of the types of chemo she has taken in the past are no longer options, either because she developed an allergic reaction to them, they caused terrible side effects she doesn’t want to repeat, or simply are no longer effective. This may happen with what she is taking now, even if there are other options to explore – a better prognosis than that of a fury, but ultimately heading towards a similar conclusion. Like Chizuru, I cannot change these facts and can only do what I can to be supportive while she’s still here.

There is some respite from the effects of chemotherapy, our clear intravenous Water of Life. There are days when the symptoms aren’t as bad and we can enjoy things. And one of the things that saves us is humour. There is still room for humour amidst all the new challenges we’ve faced, just as there is room for humorous subplots, character interactions and OVA side stories in Hakuoki. These moments of humour from the series are just as important and stay with me just as much as the serious and sad ones. My mom and I find something to laugh about every day, and those are some of the moments that make all the difficult times worth living through. And I know that as long as I make sure I’m there for those moments, I’ll have few regrets when those moments are merely memories.