Fruits Basket

Episode 40

Welcome to Fruits Basket! Would you like an angsty, cute, or funny episode? Oh heck, why not all three? “See You Later” was characterized by frequent, marked tonal shifts between humor and melodrama and stuff that makes you go “aww.” But instead of giving you whiplash, this pressure cooker of an episode brought out characters' most strongly-held feelings and beliefs. Fruits Basket is at its best when it is depicting the highs and lows of human relationships, and that's exactly what this episode is about. A cohesive narrative about parent-teacher conferences brings about the show's signature melodrama in a full spectrum of emotions.

It's time for our teenage characters to think about their plans for the future, and that means parent-teacher conferences with Mayu-sensei. Right off the bat, there's a range of reactions, from Saki's theatrics to Arisa's complete nonchalance. It immediately sets our expectations: planning for the future is a hot topic that will elicit a medley of moods. Take Tohru's subsequent conference. Tohru's decision to go straight into the workforce is sensible but sad: it shows that despite her new home with the Sohmas, she doesn't want to burden anyone by pursuing higher education—or more pessimistically, she doesn't trust anyone to look out for her but herself. On the other hand, with Shigure in attendance as her guardian, there's a comic element. Shigure and Mayu waste no time getting down to their old feud; these two put the bloodlust in the phrase “killing with kindness.” The only time this episode veered into uncomfortable territory was when Shigure suggested to Tohru that she become his wife after she graduates. Of course, this faux proposal is really an indirect jab at Mayu, but the fact that her alleged guardian is willing to wrap Tohru into a spat that doesn't involve her makes her living situation seem very precarious indeed. The joke is, as always, that Shigure is a bad person. “Whatever it seems, I'm treating her with exceptional care, despite being me.” And Tohru's friends immediately find Shigure suspect, despite background characters gushing about his looks. She's gonna be alright, but that reassurance didn't make it any easier for me to laugh at this uncomfortable joke.

Next, it's Kyo's turn. Arisa, who comes from a single-parent household, should be a little more sensitive of different types of family units—but instead, she remarks that Shishou, who Tohru calls Kyo's dad (because let's face it, he earned that title), looks nothing like Kyo. In contrast to Tohru's conference, Kyo's scene is a tender one as we get to see the neglected Cat surrounded by two adults who want nothing but the best for him, for once. Kyo doesn't know what he wants to do next and no wonder, he's always been told he'll be locked up on the Sohma estate after high school. But Shisou's encouraging words show that he trusts Kyo to make choices for his own future: “An adult has no right to deprive their child of their free will, right?” This is more choice than Kyo's been given in his short, fatalistic life. It's a hopeful moment amid so much bad luck for Kyo, and there's nobody who deserves this little happiness more.

But the real showstopper is Yuki's conference. First, his evil mother steamrolls the event, and Yuki just takes it. Yuki's mom is one of the weaker characters here, as there's no complexity to her cruelty; she's simply an absentee mom for the sake of giving Yuki something to be sad about. As she butts heads with Mayu while Yuki descends into a fugue state to rival his tortured navel-gazing last week, all seems lost until Ayame barges in with a giant rose bouquet and completely changes the mood. From misery to comedy: it's the most jarring shift of the episode and somehow it works because Ayame isn't tone-deaf; his flamboyant attitude is perfectly deliberate. His theatrics are a sharply-honed weapon designed to defy his mother—and very successfully, in fact. Yuki needed this ridiculous spectacle to snap out of it and stand up for himself. “I can depend on him… he's not useless,” Yuki says, and it's the first time he speaks up in the entire conference. It was hard to defend himself, but when it came to advocating for his ridiculous brother, well, that's where Yuki found his courage. This is one of those magical moments in which characters unexpectedly unite when I thought they'd clash. Discord abounds in an emotional drama like Fruits Basket. When that moment of mutual understanding finally occurs, it brings a revelatory moment of clarity, for the characters and the viewer, too.

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Fruits Basket is currently streaming on Crunchyroll and Funimation.

Lauren writes about geek careers at Otaku Journalist and model kits at Gunpla 101.