There's loads of lessons from Fruits Basket but the most important are these
A. that loud mouth snake? He's living a better life than you and his family because he's loud and annoying. In other words, be yourself. Just be yourself.
B. Don't hate yourself. Tohru Honda would never allow it. You're lovable. Even if you've stabbed your childhood friend
C. Adults are not always reliable. Look at the Dog. Look at Akito's mother. Look at Kyo's trash dad. Now look at those 16 year olds. They'll have better friendship bonds than we'll ever have with anyone in our lives
D. Don't stab your childhood friend/clan member that's been there for you for a long time through all your mental breakdowns. That's not okay
E. There's not always gonna be a lovable, precious, sunshine lovable orphan girl who lives in a tent on your estate that will appear and help you break your family's curse. Don't manipulate children emotionally, bastard
A/N: For the @zodiac-carnival-zine! I love the banter and easy friendship between these three (with Hatori barely keeping these two from falling into chaos).
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Hatori was a busy man. He had to be as the Sohma family doctor. His clan was a large, sprawling one, and he had more patients than he had hair. Between his constantly complaining elders and his rambunctious younger kin, he had his hands full.
All of that wasn’t including his twelve special patients. They weren’t special in the sense that they had a lot of health problems, needing specialized care and constant attention. No, they were special in the sense that eleven of them were cursed to transform into the twelve zodiac animals. Special in the sense that the twelfth patient was a single, sadistic god. If it weren’t for the fact that he was the twelfth zodiac animal, Hatori wouldn’t have believed a word about the family curse.
Oddly enough, that wasn’t the strangest part of his family—no, that was reserved for the fact that they all lived in a circus. He had never been able to make heads nor tails of that fact, only that it was. At least it was a permanently based one, instead of a travelling circus; he couldn’t imagine the effort it would take to transport the entire clan from city to city.
The only benefit to it was that it wasn’t unusual to see a tiger or a horse here, so it wasn’t too hard hiding a transformation. Not that his own transformation was anything special—the dragon he turned into was more of a sea horse than a beast to be feared. For a while he had considered studying veterinary medicine, just in case, but now he was grateful that he didn’t. Who knew how busy his days would have been then?
Actually, he knew the answer to that: the same as now, too busy. Which is why he didn’t have the time to stand in front of a full-length mirror, his arms erect at his side as he made a giant ‘T’ shape. Grumpily, he stared at his reflection. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not?” Standing next to him, Ayame gasped and clutched his chest. His measuring tape hung loosely between his fingers as he swayed back and forth. “You don’t like my costumes?”
Hatori bit his cheek. In all honesty, the black pants were a little too loose for his tastes. The only saving grace was the soft blue shirt, the tamest thing he’d seen come out of Ayame’s wardrobe. It missed all the bells, frills, and whistles that usually made up Ayame’s fashion sense. Still, there was no point in bringing that up. “No, that wasn’t—”
“This magnificent cape is more than just a cape, Tori,” Ayame argued passionately, plucking a regal blue cape off a nearby chair and draping it across Hatori’s back. “Look at how elegant the fur trim is, how passionate the blue, how eye-catching the apparel is—this is truly the outfit of a hero!”
He felt a headache forming. “Again, that wasn’t what I said.”
Shigure poked his head out of one of the many costume-filled racks. The red tent was utterly filled with them, making the small place feel even smaller and cozier. Wearing a pirate hat and an eye patch, he raised a brow. “What’s not to like? It’s a world of dreams.”
“Gure!” Ayame turned back to Shigure. Hatori could almost see the hearts in his eyes. “I knew you’d understand.”
“Of course I would, Aya,” Shigure replied, traipsing over. Now that he was fully out of the rack, Hatori could make out the space suit he was wearing, and not for the first time he wondered just what Shigure was up to. Clasping Ayame’s hands, Shigure crooned, “Your dreams are mine.”
“I only see you in them every night,” Ayame murmured back, a grateful smile crossing his face. The lighting from Ayame’s workstation only made them look all the more dramatic.
Exactly three seconds after (and it was always three seconds, Hatori wasn’t sure just when those two had figured that three seconds of staring was the exact right amount, but they had), Shigure and Ayame turned to him with identical grins, giving him a thumbs up. “See?” they parroted at the same time.
“See what?” Hatori replied dryly, resisting the urge to sigh. He’d been through this who knew how many times, yet they always managed to tire him out. “Anyways, that’s not it. Your costumes are very well made, Ayame.”
“Tori!” Letting go of Shigure, Ayame leaped forward and hugged Hatori tightly. “I knew you’d like them.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Shigure asked, already turning back to the racks. Hatori knew with a hundred percent certainty that the man was bored; he was only here to try on different costumes. As long as he wasn’t stirring up trouble elsewhere, Hatori would just have to live with it.
“It’s just…” Hatori brushed his hair back, running his fingers through his locks. “I’m the only doctor, I don’t have time to be a performer too.”
“Why can’t you be both?” Ayame asked, pulling back slightly and cocking his head.
“Please don’t ask that seriously.” Hatori sighed again. “I don’t have enough time. I don’t understand why Akito ordered us to perform together again.”
“Akito just likes pushing you,” Shigure replied, rifling through the racks. He pulled out several hangers as he talked. Hatori wasn’t sure if he was imagining the slight jealousy in Shigure’s voice.
“I really don’t need to be pushed,” Hatori grumbled, patting Ayame on the back before gently extracting himself. “Even just taking care of our group is more than enough on my plate.”
Not listening, Shigure murmured, “Or maybe he’s feeling insecure after all…”
“Insecure?” Hatori wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear that last part, or if he even wanted to. He had his suspicions that Tohru, their new part-timer, hadn’t actually just stumbled into the job like Shigure had claimed. That perhaps his childhood friend was up to something devious.
The only question was if he had enough energy to deal with it all. The answer was a resounding no and he sighed. “Please don’t drag others into your schemes.”
“Schemes? Me?” Shigure plopped a princess crown on his forehead and tried on a pair of angel wings. He gave the most innocent look possible. “Never. Besides, you spend wayyyy too much time in your tent. You need a break.”
“And what greater break is there, than performing with us?” Ayame had stars in his eyes as he posed dramatically. “The bright lights shining down on us, the audience clapping, a flurry of petals—it’ll be just like the good old days.”
Shigure crossed his arms and nodded sagely. “Women swooning, girls wanting my number again—I can’t wait.”
Hatori wasn’t sure how much of that was a joke, and how much of it was serious. It was probably both, considering Shigure. “This doesn’t sound like much of a break.”
He hadn’t really expected a response. Which was good, because as usual he didn’t get one. The pair had a feedback loop between them, pumping each other higher. Or rather, Shigure was pumping Ayame higher because he refused to put the breaks on the whole thing.
“Perfect casting, the three of us as the three musketeers.” Shigure raked a hand through his dark hair, pushing his bangs back as he gave a rakish grin. “Utterly flawless.”
“And romantic!” Ayame added, raising an imaginary sword. His measuring tape and other costume making tools were long forgotten and Hatori had no doubt this measuring session would take far longer than it ought to. His silver hair flowed around him as he twirled. “The brotherhood, the betrayal, the friendship—romance at its finest.”
“Romantic, huh?” Hatori paused at that. Tohru flashed across his mind. Perhaps there was some value to this after all.
After the snow melts, spring comes.
He smiled automatically. Maybe he could pay her back for earlier with a front row ticket. She seemed like she’d enjoy a good love story.
“Ohhh?” While he’d been distracted, Ayame had gotten close once more, leaving only the faintest gap between them as he looked into Hatori’s eyes. He smirked slyly. “What’s that, Tori? Are you thinking about someone? Is it…a man’s romance?”
Hatori did not want to know what that meant. Frowning, he stepped back. “Not at all.”
“Are you sure?” Shigure was suddenly at his other side, wearing a Cheshire grin, “You weren’t thinking about anyone?”
“Yes.” Giving him a deadpan look, he flicked Shigure on the forehead. It was important to stop nonsensical thoughts from latching to his brain for too long—Hatori didn’t need to handle yet another one of his schemes. “Now, let’s get this over with. I still have patients to see.”
“Booooo,” Shigure pouted, rubbing his forehead. “That hurt.”
“Stop crying.” Rolling his eyes, Hatori stepped back in front of the mirror and spread his arms. “Ayame?”
“Of course!” Ayame skipped past Shigure, humming softly as he started to measure once more. “I’m glad you’re taking a break. You need it.”
Ayame’s tone was utterly soft, utterly kind, and Hatori relaxed. “This still sounds more like work than a break,” he replied, but the bite was out of his voice. He couldn’t help it—it was impossible to stay mad at his friends for long. However misguided their actions were, it was out of caring that they prodded him like they did.
And he was a lucky man to have so many people care for him.
Though, if they really cared, they’d learn how to rein in their behaviours more. Half of his problems would disappear.
“But, you’re right.” Hatori smiled back, shifting slightly as Ayame adjusted the cape on his shoulders. In the mirror, it looked rather roguish. “It’ll be fun to work with you two again.”
“Fun?” Shigure asked, smirking.
“Fun,” Hatori repeated. For all the headaches, the time he spent with them had always been enjoyable.
“Lots of fun,” Ayame agreed, wrapping an arm around Hatori’s shoulder as he examined their reflection in the mirror. Seemingly content with what he saw, he let go and went to grab the matching hat form where it’d been thrown haphazardly on a chair. “That reminds me, Yuki, yes that Yuki, has asked me to make his costume.”
“Yuki did?” Hatori almost couldn’t believe it.
“Yes, isn’t it amazing! Our brotherly love has pushed through, connecting once more!” Ayame clutched the hat tightly and dabbed his eyes with the brim. “He came to me, tears in his eyes, and asked me to make it for him and his princess, Tohru.”
Shigure snickered as he chimed in, “And Kyo’s playing the horse.”
Hatori was about 90% certain that Shigure had a hand in that.
“He will be the most noble steed ever seen.” Ayame pumped his fist. Hatori could almost see waves crashing behind him. “For he is carrying my darling Yuki into battle. I have already started Yuki’s thirteen-layer suit, and the fifteen ruffles on Tohru’s dress. No one will have ever seen a greater—”
Hatori rubbed his forehead. Maybe after this vacation, he could get another one to relax from the first one.
fruits basket is great because it takes the sweet perfect shoujo girl archetype and goes “can you imagine how depressed she would be if she was an actual person”
Tohru is always like two steps away from cracking and she just like side steps the pain so gracefully...for the most part
my therapist would say she taps herself out of the painful emotions
I love her character so much though
She carefully tailored her personality from a young age to make her mom so happy she'd never be sad, never want to go to her dad again...but when her mom is gone, she's just left with this hollow facade of happiness