I Hate the Word Fate

“Being alive is a wonderful thing” – the ethereal weave of elysian gold, pastel red, and buoyant orbs (shoujo sparkles) of shimmering light describe elation. But if that were all, why would life need to be emphasized as “wonderful”? Speckles and splotches of blue dominate the edges of the screen, appearing as morose purple clouds, suggest a sadness rising through the happiness. Someone on the apparent cusp of death, but fighting to grasp that “wonderful thing.” This person, a dear friend of mine, faces a struggle I strongly relate to, a struggle examined with a compassionate eye. Last week, episode 9 of Masamune’s Revenge struck me deeply with its look at disability, and living openly. The show's themes around body positivity seem most poignant here.

Prompted by Shidou, Neko’s servant, Masamune Makabe (below), titular “hero” of this story, enters the hospital room, and witnesses Neko (above) smiling at him, head propped up on the pillow.  Her hospitalization, in vivid terms, reveals the condition that has been hidden for much of the series. There are hints – including one incident where she uses ketchup to feign coughing blood, and multiple instances where she emphasizes the value of health – but not until this moment do they come together.  This realization is rather devastating to Masamune, who wonders what he could have done differently (below). As Neko hardly looks “ill,” his surprise is not unjustified. Though much brightness infiltrates the room via elysian sunlight, much of her body is shadowed. This light imagery illuminates her uncertainty, the difficult situation she is now found in.

Living with a medical condition in an ableist society is not easy – but it is even harder when that condition comes across as “invisible” or nonobvious. There’s a tendency to hide the condition until it can no longer be kept a secret. When revealed, it often draws pity, but Neko is looking for human connection from Masamune, her friend. So she creates this situation where he is compelled to hear her story about the past without trying to run away. Earlier in the day, Neko escapes the comfort of Shidou’s support, forcing Masamune to find her – by leaving him clues, including a series of paper airplanes, she draws him to the rooftop of the school. There she collapses towards the ground (left), but her fall is broken by Masamune, whose attention she has caught – she stepped outside of the safety net established for her own benefit. Many times I have been warned to look after my health over everything else, and here Neko is betraying a similar admonition.

In this action, rather than give into fatalism, she lives outside of the constraints that supposedly keep her safe and avoid aggravating her condition.  In my experience, even with the most understanding of friends, a disability is considered something unfortunate and pitiable – it is closer to a simple part of life, for good and bad. I reckon that Neko wanted the feeling of an organic discussion of her past, rather than an idealized form created to encompass this “invisible” condition.

 

“Being alive is a wonderful thing,” Neko explains to Masamune before offering a story: standing before a group of her classmates, she thanks them for their kind words. One of them, a girl with short, dark brown hair, invites Neko to her villa in the most courteous terms (above). However, she makes a gaffe born out of good intentions by inviting Neko to join her before the party for tennis and horse-riding. The air goes silent as a melancholy piano melody fills the space: because of Neko’s condition, this invitation is considered taboo by the classmates of the dark-brown-haired girl. Though Neko says that it is okay, her facial expression reveals trouble with the situation (right).

There is an unspoken code that one does not invite a person with a physical disability to any type of physical activity, with the assumption being that they cannot handle it. With an ‘invisible’ condition, this taboo is even more constricting, as not everyone may be in on the secret. Though it is well-intentioned, this confines Neko only to those activities that fit safely with her condition; and she is not given the choice of trying out the activities. In my personal experience, there is a strong tendency to avoid suggesting physical activities for someone with a disability rather than making an effort to modify the activity. And it is extremely frustrating that that is the response: that standard ability has always been the “normal” in society. And I question how many times I have been excluded from an activity on these grounds…..and I can relate to Neko’s frustrations here rather strongly.

For example, tennis could be played in a leisurely manner that does not tire out Neko. Horseback riding is more difficult to conjecture modifications for, but I can try from my personal experiences. As someone who has fallen off a horse (which my mother could likely live without knowing.) Provided the horse does not have an aggressive temperament (trust me, some horses would like nothing more than to feud with other horses), a horse ride, with a proper saddle, can be leisurely as well – my guess for this context is a horse ride around the garden. Having engaged in this sort of horseback riding, I imagine it would be doable for Neko.

But, it’s excruciatingly difficult to imagine that an activity is not accessible, and even more so to figure out how to fix the situation. Intuition cannot resolve inaccessibility because society is not clearly ableist in many cases. Why should the burden be on the person with a disability to decide how best they fit into society?

But I detest how few people seem willing to go through this process of modifying an activity.

Only by racking my brain can I come up with these solutions, and it is rare for someone willing to take the effort to help with the process.  Ultimately, modifying the activity is often given up as much too difficult, and the solution of excluding persons with (physical) disabilities remains. As a PhD student, I imagine how I can adapt lab work to my condition, but the best solution is participating as a “normal” person. Some days, that is too difficult, and on the other side is the inaccessibility. Writing about this subject should make me livid but instead it makes me feel sad, with tension running along the center of my back. To me, and to Neko as well it would seem, that this turn of events is completely normal, frustration and all (which would go hand in hand with her crestfallen eyes).

And another struggle, this time unique to her: that to treat her condition, she would have to undergo an expensive overseas operation that carried a significant risk to it. Talking to her grandfather, she asks that the operation be postponed until a certain condition. That she would fall in love before her operation (above). Though such a request seems like the height of foolishness, coming from a well-off high school girl no less, it actually reflects self-determination and the desire to put her emotional wellbeing over conforming to society’s expectations of what an ailing person should be like. And it helps explain why she would go to such extreme lengths to get Masamune’s attention. There is intense pressure to act in a certain way, especially to both erase one’s condition and to live tied to it, when it comes to disability. Having an invisible condition means to be a contradiction, in this regard. She fights against some hastily prescribed “fate”, which is meant to hang over persons with disabilities – that admonition of “prioritize your health over everything!”

I teared up three times throughout the 20-minute episode. The image of Neko Fujinomiya is quite powerful to me, not simply as a cliché of “never giving up”, but to fight “fate” and stay driven even when faced with crushing sadness. Not so much about happiness, as never losing sight of your goal. In the next episode, after a month, Neko successfully returns to school following her overseas operation, having fought and won her fate over.

Through Mirai Minato’s masterful directing, a unique framing of Neko’s face reveals her face partially lit up, including a teary eye, and mostly buried within shadows – this lighting symbolizes the uncertainty of the situation. But the way her smile points upwards towards the sun streaming in captures the sensation of hope carefully laced into this episode. That is why she tells Masamune that “Being alive is a wonderful thing,” even faced with a risky, overseas operation. Looking at Neko from this angle, I tear up – the feeling of life slipping away, while living with your condition seems to obstruct your movements, is powerful and can lead to desperation. The only solution is to fight the fatalism that intends to ensnare persons with disabilities like Neko and I.

Works Cited"It's Been Called Love and Affection." Masamune's Revenge directed by Mirai Minato, performed by Suzuko Mimori (Neko Fujinomiya), and produced by Silver Link. 2017.