Fruits Basket – 49 – Wishing for Change

When Kakeru brings up ranger colors, Yuki surprises Machi by asking her what her favorite color is. No one has ever asked her that, and she doesn’t know anyway. She gets up to leave when Miki organizes a lunch meetup, but Yuki doesn’t let her slip away wordlessly, giving the cell phone-less Machi a written note of the time and place of the lunch.

Nobody ever paid any attention to Kuragi Machi. She passes through people and places as if she is invisible. She has no favorite color or preferred restaurant. She calls herself dull, a void, and a defective doll. Her apartment is a mess, because why bother keeping it clean if no one ever visits? She’s watched Yuki and how he’s changed, but can’t see if or how she can do the same.

Still, she took the simple maple leaf Yuki gave her and made it into a lovely bookmark, and possibly also a talisman; a reminder that change is not just possible, but necessary. Just as she’s wondering if her existence is necessary, Yuki answers that question by flagging her down; in her half-asleep stupor she happened to end up at the meeting spot for an even she had no intention of attending.

I’d been hoping for more Machi material, and this week we get lots. Despite her claims of dullness I find her a fascinating example of a non-Souma with Souma-like baggage, and thus an intriguing potential partner for Yuki, whom we’ve learned never had particularly romantic feelings for Tooru. Her problems are also an opportunity for Yuki to pay forward the progress he himself has made.

New Year’s is here, and there too are changes from last year. Yuki will be attending in addition to Shigure, so Tooru and Kyou will spend the holiday at Kazuma’s house, where Tooru is perhaps overly excited to learn that Isuzu is staying as well as she continues her recovery. Unfortunately Rin isn’t in the mood for Tooru’s exuberance.

Considering the line they independently drew between themselves, I’m not surprised Tooru and Kyou are fine with not spending New Years alone together—even though that delays the inevitable. That said, it’s still a hoot to watch them interact, with Tooru playfully hitting of Kyou with the pompom of her new scarf easily making the list of Top 10 Most Adorable Things Tooru Has Ever Done.

Meanwhile the banquet appears to be going off without a hitch. After Hatori performs a dance we sadly don’t get to see and Ayame entertains the others with his magnetic personality, Akito and Yuki seem on the cusp of a détente, with Akito deigning to forgive Yuki his past insolence now that he’s here.

But Yuki, as bold in front of Akito as we’ve ever seen him, deigns to forgive him as well, then goes on about how he’s done blaming others for his problems, and has resolved to be more aware of his flaws and areas in his life which he can improve. Yuki is essentially talking about change, which is anathema eternal Zodiac god like Akito.

Akito likes Yuki the way he is—or rather the way he thinks he is, which is in reality no longer the way he was. Yuki isn’t back because he was cowed or came to his senses or is admitting he was wrong; he’s back as a simple courtesy, which must feel patronizing to Akito. So Akito breaks a ceramic pot across Yuki’s face, and just like that, Yuki’s past and future absences from the banquet are handily justified.

It’s not a severe laceration—just a small cut on the scalp—but if anyone from Prince Yuki had seen their beloved Yuki’s beautiful face thus marred I’m not certain Akito would have made it out of the room in one piece! To Yuki, it was probably worth it to say something to Akito that in a perfect world all Zodiacs would be able to say to Akito: It is YOU who is a useless piece of shit who should just disappear. Mind you Yuki doesn’t actually say this; but it’s implied!

When Hatori cleans up the cut, Yuki also makes sure to apologize to him for blaming him for erasing the memories of his childhood friends. He now knows better, and that Hatori too was young and had to obey Akito. Hatori tells him, quite rightly, that there’s nothing to apologize for.

Tooru and Kyou actually end up alone together anyway, as Kazuma steps out and Rin has an early night. Hatsu stops by, but to be with Rin. Explaining Shisho’s mention of Kyou and Rin’s propensity to stare each other down as kids, Kyou tells Tooru that he felt like he stole Shisho from him, and so came to not like her.

As for Tooru’s New Year’s wish (which Kyou asks her for before he tells her his), while last year she wished for Kyou and Yuki to get along (and by their standards, they pretty much do now) this year her wish is arguably more ambitious: for the curse to be broken and happiness to come.

Against a Zodiac system that has endured for centuries without change, Tooru is wishing for change…for revolution. And by golly, if anyone can move the gods in the heavens to grant that wish, it’s Tooru. If they don’t, they can expect no quarter in the scarf pompom-thrashing to come!

Want to read more about episode 49? Check out Crow’s review here!

Fruits Basket – 19 – The Audacity to Live

While Shigure’s editor Mitchan is on a mission to collect his manuscript, he misdirects her, and she ends up crossing paths with the latest member of the Soumas to be introduced: Souma Ritsu, or “Ritchan-san.”

Immediately, her defining characteristic seems to be “cripplingly apologetic and self-loathing” on a show where Tooru, Yuki, etc. are already here!

When Tooru accidentally hugs Ritchan, who is trying to run away for being such a nuisance to everyone, she suddenly transforms into her form, the Monkey, and Tooru learns that she is actually a he in women’s clothes, which he’s always worn since he was a young lad.

Upon transforming back (off-camera), Ritchan is challenged by Shigure and Tooru not to reflexively apologize so much, and when Mitchan returns he’s called upon to placate her. That’s when Mitchan prepares a noose with which to hang herself then writes to her parents in her will, apologizing for leaving this world before them.

Ritchan and the others are able to talk Mitchan down, and Shigure reveals he has his manuscript ready for the deadline, but then Ritchan spills coffee all over it and Mitchan faints from the shock. That’s when Ritchan decides to climb up to the roof, indicating his desire to jump off and end his miserable, worthless life.

The source material of Fruits Basket shows its age by once again making light of both Mitchan and Ritchan’s threats of suicide, only for Ritchan’s latest threat to be taken seriously by Tooru, complete with her trademark relaying of lessons she and her mom learned together and empathetic pep talk.

The juggling of disparate tones didn’t work for me, largely because it’s initially treated as a silly character quirk. That left a bad taste in my mouth that is hard to set aside even when the show suddenly takes Mitchan and Ritchan’s intermittent intentions to die seriously. It’s as if it’s trying to have its (fruit)cake and eat it too (or at least a book about fruitcake).

Tooru’s assurance that no one knows the reason they were born, but that it’s enough to just keep living until they find that reason, be it through something or someone, is definitely a welcome and vital message to all who feel like Ritchan and Mitchan sometimes feel.

But I’ll admit I was a little distracted not just by the show’s past flippancy on this subject, but the fact Tooru nearly died herself by slipping on the roof tiles.