Onigiri Fest: The moments

Natsuki Takaya’s beloved manga, Fruits Basket, is winding down to a close. Instead of tired narratives, her recent chapters evoke freshness and nostalgia reminiscent of the earlier volumes. Nuggets of intertwining joy, humour, heartbreak, and loss, once again, fill her beautiful panels. My faith is slightly restored.

Newt’s take on the last two chapters reminds this blogger of the fast approaching finale. With nothing else to do In honor of the lovely-but-at-times-shaky title, I offer Onigiri Fest — otherwise known as FuruBa pimpage –, a 4 (possibly 3) part series centered on recalling the Christmas past. Ahem.

First stop, the moments.

Fruits Basket has moments aplenty. Picking unforgettable chapters is easy. Narrowing it down to ten is hard.

[Cut to a public service announcement.]

Keep in mind. Beyond this paragraph contains SPOILERS. And I mean, MAJOR SPOILERS. In case you didn’t catch that, I repeat, SPOILER ALERT.

[Resume post.]

Here’s another round of lists. I like lists. It’s easy, fast, and efficient. Transition sentences need not apply. In no particular order…

1. One down.

On a seemingly average day, Kureno meets with a disconcerted Tohru. He extends his hands and wraps his arms around her. He reveals a major secret. It is the beginning of the end.

Kureno’s revelation answers the question surrounding the absence of a connection between him and the other 12shi. It demonstrates the weakening bond of the animals.

I look at it as a domino effect. It all crashes down.

2. The Hatori-Kana chapters.

The term “harsh winter” always comes to mind whenever I think of the failed romance of Hatori and Kana. An innocent love affair cut short by twisted bonds, selfishness, and cowardice.

As heartbreaking as these chapters represent, it also demonstrates the shackles binding the 12shi to their god. Hatori’s refusal to put blame on the demented Akito while allowing himself to shoulder the responsibility displays the extent of the horrid chain. Parting with Kana was his sacrifice and atonement.

I love this arc.

3. The other woman.

Mayuko is the return of spring. In Hatori’s future, at least. (Can’t you see how partial I am to Hatori?) The last page of her chapter says:

“Even though it’s not as long as five or ten years… But I’ll cut my hair short… And he will start calling me “Mayu” again… On the sunny day, both of us go out together. This is something that will happen later. Not a long time from now…” (translation directly lifted from hoshimanga.)

I whole-heartedly accept Mayu’s presence in Hatori’s romantic life. It has history, it has chemistry, it has weight. It works. The way her story is presented makes perfect sense. And how can I forget the only survivor from dating Shigure?

4. Cinderella-ish.

Brew together a defiant heroine, a doting sister, a cross-dressing fairy godmother, and an oh-so-reluctant prince. The result is a Cinderella story that would make Ever After proud.

5. Mom.

Half of the 12shi suffer from some form of parental neglect or abuse. Momiji’s case is no different. In fact, it goes beyond abandon. His mother refuses to acknowledge her son. She chooses to live a lie and to erase Momiji from her mind, literally. Her husband, allowing this atrocity without complaint, is also drenched in filth. Bastards.

Momiji, knowing the cruelty bestowed on him, continuously smile sweetly. *sniff*

This breaks my heart.

6. The Good Samaritan.

Finding common ground with this adorable not-so-little borther Yuki, the flambouyant Ayame recalls his student council days. In confident tones, he recounts the time when he defended his classmates’ foray into the red-light district. His solution: Let the male population direct their desire and lust at him. He will be willing to give or receive their, erm, affection.

Yuki was not exactly impressed. But this blogger still giggles at the thought.

7. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide.

Who would’ve thunk that Kakeru has a bit of malice in him? Well, not exactly malice. But he uttered painful words to Tohru without care. In his warped way, he wanted to defend his girlfriend. Instead, his action devalues the solemnity of Maki’s pain. At least, he apologizes in the end.

In the tradition of soap opera, everyone in this series is connected in one way or the other. It is inevitable.

8. True form.

“OMG!! OMG!! OMG!!”, said this hyperventilating blogger when she learned of an appalling layer on the 12shi curse. Tohru, finding out Kyo’s other appearance, runs instinctively towards the dreadful figure. At that moment, only one thing came across my mind: TohruxKyo forevah!

Seriously, though, the revelation of the unsightly feline form explained his role as a monster different from the 12shi. He was cast aside and ignored. He longed for acceptance but abhorred pity. A myriad of emotion swirls around him, not to mention, the guilt of surrounding Kyoko (but that’s later on).

9. Identity Crisis.

Holy. Mother. Of. Gawd. Someone please pass the smelling salts. I knew that Akito was fey, but I had no inkling that he was someone without a Y-chromosome. Once again, I say, oh, my gawd.

I love this plot twist. True, it astounds audiences but it plays a bigger role than that. It rationalizes Akito’s erratic behaviour: the obsessive protectiveness to the male 12shi and the aversion to the females who threaten to steal their affection. Even Shigure’s skewed affection towards the god is also explained.

10. The Rice Ball story.

In an attempt to lighten Kyo’s sullen mood, Tohru tells a tale of a city of Onigiri. This tale captures basic human insecurities, envying others, finding fault to one’s self, and self-pity. While obviously moralistic, the warm tone chides gently. It does not hammer righteousness, it only conveys truth.

How can a simple story be so poignant? It speaks highly of Takaya-sensei’s talent. (Hah, after being bitter for more than a year, I’m back singing her praises.)

—–
Honorable mention includes Kyoko’s back-story and Tohru’s confession to Kyo.

Today, I am lavishing FuruBa lots of lurv. The next post might not be entirely too pleasant.