The Psychology of Fruits Basket: Kyoko

With the imminent launch of the new Fruits Basket anime, I jumped headlong back into my thorough enjoyment of one of the most timeless and enjoyable manga of all time. I love this story because of how it displays healing and the re-growing trust even after a lifetime of injury. For those who experienced similar traumas first hand, it is a vital representation of hope.

If you have only ever watched the old anime from 2001, I thoroughly recommend you grab the manga and start reading! Don’t get me wrong, the old anime holds a special place in my heart and I will always love it. But it was made before the manga was finished and so ends just when the plot begins diving into the core of the Sohma curse. Author Natsuki Takaya comments at the end of volume 3 of the Collector’s Edition:

“Kyo-kun’s episode was toward the end of the anime version of Fruits Basket, so there may be many readers who got the impression that this was the climax...But actually, Kyo-kun is like a trigger that causes the true form of Furuba itself to emerge from here on out!”

Fruits Basket is such a rich story with characters who have deeply developed, if also deeply damaged, psyches. On its surface, it appears as a fun and light hearted romcom story but beneath that, the characters are working through dark traumas including bullying, abuse, neglect, and betrayal. The brilliance of the story is that it shows how the world is not black and white. Rather, the world exists in gray and (as is true to life) the abusers are also the abused, but very few people are truly beyond redemption and healing.

The thing I am finding most interesting in my current read through is how the true lynchpin of the story is not necessarily Tohru but actually her mother Kyoko. Kyoko is kind of the fairy godmother of the story. (Or perhaps “butterfly” godmother is more appropriate?)

We mostly learn about Kyoko in bits and pieces, flashbacks and memories from the various characters of the story. She was an illustrious leader of one of Tokyo’s infamous girl gangs in her youth, dropped out of school when she missed her high school entrance exams, and was disowned by her family (they largely neglected her before then anyway). She then got married to her student teacher who was consequently the only person in her young life that believed in her and saw she was more than the failure her parents saw. Kyoko’s story truly is about how love and belief in another is a precious gift, a gift she sought to instill in Tohru.

As I am reading through the manga again, I am seeing so many callbacks and references to Kyoko that were either dropped or not given as much weight in the anime. Perhaps it is also my own difference of perspective now that I’m older. The part that really illustrated this for me was the scene where Tohru is helping Yuki protect his vegetable garden in the storm.

Tohru: Still, my mother always said it’s better to believe than doubt. She said people aren’t born with a conscience. We’re only born with “wants,” she said, like appetite and material desires. In other words, survival instincts. The conscience is something that develops, like our bodies. It’s our heart that grows inside of us. She said that’s why there are different forms of kindness, depending on the person…. Sohma-kun, your kindness is like a candle. It suddenly lights up.

Kyoko: Anyone can doubt. That’s easy. Tohru...I want you to believe. Become the kind of girl who can believe in other people. And I’m sure you will give someone strength.

These words impact Yuki so deeply, he then actually smiles a genuine smile for the first time in the series.

This lesson Kyoko instills in Tohru is so SO important. Children need support in their young lives in order for their brains to develop. I’ve written about this previously in context of Attack on Titan, but Fruits Basket really brings the negative impacts of neglect in a more relatable light. Studies show that neglect has a strong connection with underdeveloped brains. These studies also have given indications that if a neglected child is then placed in a safe and loving environment, the brain is likely to recover.

(Kyoko’s nickname in her gang as a teenager was the Red Butterfly. In Japanese culture, the butterfly can be associated with a girl’s transformation into womanhood and is associated with femininity. A butterfly was also the crest of one of the more powerful samurai clans which may or may not be a small clue as to the prominence of Kyoko’s gang. Most importantly, though, a butterfly also symbolizes the soul in Japan and can be indicative of one who has recently passed.)

Kyoko is a creator of this safe environment. She creates it for Uo, she attempted creating it for little Kyo before her death, and equipped Tohru to continue that creation in her stead for all those she befriended. Kyoko really is the “butterfly godmother”. I’m really looking forward to see how they work her into the new anime.

From here, I plan to delve deeper in Kyoko’s impact on each of the individual characters in future posts. Follow me on my social media channels (Facebook, Twitter, and tumblr) or become a patron on my Patreon page to be notified on new analyses! And make sure to watch the new anime on Funimation starting April 5th!