Fruits Basket - Episode 31 & 32 [Review]

 

Fruits Basket - Episode 31 & 32 [Review]

With a bang and a whoosh, Momiji whisks the Soma family away for a beach vacation in this drama-packed pair of episodes. The sun! The sand! The sea! The sadness. Hey, it's still Fruits Basket, after all.

Since I'm cramming two episodes into one review this week, I won't dwell too long on the lighter side of this family reunion, but the beach house does lend this story a refreshing change of scenery, full of wide-open spaces that allow the large cast to spread out and interact in unique ways. From inner-tubing to beetle-catching to watermelon-splitting, it's fun to watch Furuba's zoo of lovable weirdos make their own fun in the sun. There's also way more skin on display as everyone strips down to their swimsuits, and I'm not sure how I feel about getting a closeup of Tohru's bottom. I could do with fewer jokes about Shigure's wandering eyes in my favorite wholesome healing dramedy.

Besides, Shigure's been playing the field enough without bringing our heroine into his dirty mind. It was easy to assume that Rin might have dumped Haru to protect him from some dangerous mission ahead of her, but the stomach-turning reveal of what she wanted to get from Shigure in the first season finale comes as an early shock before the summer trip has even started. Rin's attempt to seduce the Zodiac's most unreliable member is deeply uncomfortable to watch, since she's so bad at faking her attraction to Shigure, and she still seems to be in shaky health following her accident. But she needs information about the curse, and her past efforts clearly haven't gotten her anywhere, so she believes there's no other choice but to pay Akito's closest adviser with her body.

Gross.

We don't see what happens between them after Shigure considers her offer, but we do know this meeting convinced him to stir the pot with Akito once again. As they share another weird conversation halfway between bitterness and intimacy, Shigure convinces Akito to surprise everyone at the beach house and "teach them a lesson" for having fun without him. It's been hard to trust Shigure ever since we learned of his selfish intentions back in episode 10, but the way he cares for Tohru and gently prods the boys into further growth has led us to believe that he's ultimately on our side. So what possible good could come from injecting Akito's malice into this relaxing vacation, endangering the Zodiac children and Tohru when they most need a break? Even the theory that Shigure wants to give Hatori (or Kureno?) a break from Akito's advances doesn't make sense, because Akito just ends up bringing his favorite toys to the beach along with him. And Shigure can't be investigating something at the estate in the master's absence, because he comes along on the trip too. Then again, Rin doesn't. And there's someone hiding in the estate with a very similar name, "Ren", that no one is allowed to talk about, who's apparently the main reason that Akito won't let Kureno or Hatori stay behind without him. The mysteries keep piling up with no end in sight, and we haven't even gotten back to the main cast yet!

I'll just start with the smallest characters and work my way up. There's trouble in paradise for Kisa and Hiro when the Sheep lets his jealousy get the best of him, prying open a wound for Tohru that will linger for the rest of these episodes. After she drops her notebook again and Hiro looks inside, he remarks that it's weird for Tohru to be such a momma's girl but never even mention her dad, who also passed away not so long ago. In the past, we've seen Tohru dismiss this question with an easy answer—she was too little to remember much about him when he died. But she struggles to tell that lie this time when specific memories do resurface in her mind, memories of a quiet house and a Kyoko with long hair in mourning clothes who turned her back on a tiny Tohru. We've seen this image of our heroine standing alone in the doorway of her old house before, back in episode 27 when Kyo dug too deep into Tohru's anxieties. And once again, this heartbreaking image chains directly into another memory, when Tohru stood alone in her apartment after her mother's death.

Questions bubble up rapidly as Tohru whispers reassurances to her mother's photo alone on her balcony at night. If she doesn't remember her father at all, why does Tohru talk just like him, being hyper-polite to everyone regardless of context? Why does she tie a memory of her father's funeral so directly to her mother's eventual death, and why does she have to keep Kyoko's photo so close to convince herself that they're still "always together"? Even if she hides it well enough that only Kisa (and Kyo) can tell that something's wrong, it's unmistakable that something about Tohru's relationship with her father remains too tender for her to touch. Like Yuki, Tohru has put her earliest memories in a box with the lid shut tight, which means her dad—and some part of her mom—has to stay in that box too.

I'll come back to that mystery when Yuki enters the picture, but for now, Kisa and Hiro's fight is resolved peacefully, as they both apologize for hurting the other, and a welcome distraction soon arrives to ease their minds. The woman we saw walking with Hatori at the main estate was actually Hiro's mother Satsuki, and she's going to have a baby! Tohru is elated, Hiro is embarrassed, and all the other Soma cousins explore their own feelings about welcoming a new member to the family who's guaranteed to be free of the Zodiac curse. As Yuki puts it, "Now the Somas can have children just because they want them." Parents like Momiji's don't have to suffer with a child they can't accept, and parents like Yuki's won't be able to use their cursed children as pawns for their own financial gain. Then again, it wouldn't have mattered to Hiro's mother, since she's implied to be among the most loving and accepting members of the Soma family. She has that Tohru or Kana-like energy, absent-minded but open-hearted, which might be why Hiro is so normal for his age compared to many of his more damaged cousins. If he wasn't so jealous over Kisa, maybe Hiro would have applied his adorably overprotective instincts to Tohru as well.

Then again, that's Kyo's job. As Momiji points out, the Cat and Sheep are more alike than they'd want to admit—and Momiji also notes that Kyo has gotten much softer since Tohru accepted his true self. As Yuki and Haru look on, Kyo orbits around Tohru in his feline way, never demanding her attention like Momiji, but never straying far from her side either. Even after Kisa's worries about Tohru dissipate, Kyo can sense that she's still in pain, so he prods her to open back up about her mother once they're alone together, instead of letting Hiro's insults make her self-conscious all vacation long. This scene really brings out the beauty in their dynamic, because in order for the ever- selfless Tohru to be comfortable opening up again, Kyo has to be brave and clear the air about his own mother, so Tohru can accept that she's not hurting anyone with her mommy complex. It's not easy for him to talk about such a dark past, but it is healing for him to share the truth with someone he trusts, and Tohru quickly melts back into her old self when she gets to share funny stories about Kyoko destroying the house. (Once again, Tohru doesn't seem bothered by a memory of her mother breaking her dad's photo, despite being incredibly protective of her mother's own picture.) As Kyo and Tohru laugh together, it's hard to deny that their ship has surely sailed, leaving Yuki adrift on the waves.

And who should he crash against but Akito, sitting coldly on the concrete tetrapods that cover an uninhabitable side of the coast. It's interesting to see Yuki and Kureno juxtaposed with one another in this creepy scene; it's like Yuki is staring down the future he could have had, a ghost lingering just behind his persistent tormentor. I don't want to analyze Akito's behavior in this episode too deeply, since so much of his motivation remains mysterious, but besides stating the obvious that he's a horrible monster to everybody, it's become clear that Akito does discriminate between Zodiac members in some head-scratching ways. Even his efforts to convene an impromptu banquet for everyone don't follow the rules that people like the Old Maid seem to care about. Yuki's allowed to skip the gathering because Akito wants him to come crawling back by choice, so he's happy just to get him alone on the beach and "remind" him that he will never find happiness outside of his proper place in the dark compound. Kyo's told not to come because he's the Cat, but then again, it's never made clear that Akito himself made that decision; Shigure's actually the one who tells Kyo to stay behind, and he has his own agenda that Akito doesn't seem interested in challenging directly. And then there's Kureno, who's not allowed to interact with anyone else at all, not even Akito's other favorite pet, Hatori. As he tells his derelict selection of animals that he loves them, it's anyone's guess as to why Akito has chosen to divide the Zodiac up with such arbitrary prejudice. As Shigure puts it, "We can't get any more twisted than we already are." Even if the way the Zodiac is "supposed to" operate is still dark and insular and terrible, I don't think it's currently functioning as intended under Akito, and maybe the family head, like the Old Maid, has been blaming Yuki's desertion for this sorry state of affairs.

Thankfully, Yuki doesn't seem to care about Akito's thoughts anymore. After pushing himself to visit the Soma estate without incident, seeing his sworn enemy get closer to Tohru in such a positive way for both of them, and accepting that there were glimpses of light and happiness even in his darkest days as a child, Yuki is finally ready to open the tightly closed lid on his feelings. (This took a lot longer in the manga, where many chapters from season one were placed between the Kyo's-true-form stuff where the lid was introduced and this climactic summer vacation, but in the end, I think the emotional impact is the same.) He had been warming up to the idea just one day before, when he lay on the couch stroking Tohru's hair in a scene that probably should have been more romantic than it felt, but it's not Tohru who ultimately pries the lid off Yuki's childhood traumas; it's Akito.

Yuki realizes to his own surprise that he's no longer the same person who shut down when he saw Akito at school in episode 12, because the hateful words that used to leave him paralyzed with fear just seem like hollow lies to him now. He spent the last couple years running away from "the truth" about being the Rat, an abandoned child only born to entertain his master away from a judgmental world. But in just a few months of fighting to become his own person, trying new things that scare him and meeting new people who challenge him, making the effort to reconnect with his brother and being encouraged with love from people like Tohru and Haru, Yuki's come to accept that he doesn't have to be afraid of his "weak" childhood self rising up and taking over. Just like Momiji said back in episode 14, those memories don't hurt the way they once did, because all the brighter memories Yuki's made since then have given him clarity about who that little boy was all along. His weakness has finally made him strong.

Even if he and Tohru had forgotten about it in the sad years that followed, there was at least one bright day hiding inside that dark box, when he escaped the Soma estate, rescued a stranger, and began to dream that he might have a place in the world outside his cage. If he wants to take that warm memory out of the box, he has to accept everything else inside it and move forward. Now that Akito's words don't leave Yuki incapacitated anymore, and he's decided to embrace that life-changing moment when he got to be the heroic boy in the hat, he knows what he must do to accept his past and create his future. It's time to say goodbye to more than just Akito.

That's why Haru calls opening the lid "an ordeal" for Yuki. Even if he can accept all the memories inside without being swallowed up in panic, many of those feelings are going to be sad, and they may force him to make difficult decisions. We still don't have a clear picture of what everything in that box has told Yuki about what he must do, but episode 32's heart-stopping ending gives us a couple of clues. When Tohru asks why taking the lid off his feelings has made Yuki so sad, he tells her that she's just like the open sky above them, streaked with the shooting stars that reflect his own tears as they stream down her face pressed to his. It's something unreachable, a horizon that inspires us and grants us perspective when we feel the walls closing in, but that sky is not something we can ever keep for ourselves. Thinking all the way back to where his story began, Yuki brought Tohru into his home not just to help her, but to prove to himself that he could interact with normal people and become normal himself. Right after that, the family secret got out thanks to Kyo, so Yuki was forced to drop the prince act and accept his true self instead, discovering that the world still had a place for him, warts and all. Ever since she saved him then, Tohru's been a security blanket for Yuki, but as he sees her forging a deeper relationship with Kyo, Yuki realizes that he'll have to keep moving forward without her constant attention. If he doesn't want to be like the possessive Somas who raised him, he's going to have to let go of the person he loves more than himself and forge his own path into the future.

This is a brutal step in self-actualization that most people don't reach until much later in life (which is true of most of the healing the Somas undergo in this series), and Yuki will be happier in his friendship with Tohru if he doesn't have to rely on her so much to function, but this also raises some dark questions about Tohru's own "tightly closed lid". As Yuki finds strength in the acceptance that his childhood wasn't all darkness, Tohru is unsettled by the haunting echoes of a childhood that wasn't all light. She's nowhere near ready to remember the imperfect side of her late mother, but she won't be able to resolve her fear of abandonment without fully accepting her past. Yet time marches on, and the Somas are slowly growing beyond her to pursue their own lives, while Akito rushes to steal them all back from Tohru before they can escape his grasp.

Source

Fruits Basket - Episode 21 [Review]

 

Fruits Basket - Episode 21 [Review]

After so many weeks of going out of its way to see the hidden good and potential for change in everyone, Fruits Basket finally reaches the limits of its empathy with Motoko Minagawa and her underlings. The Prince Yuki fan club refuses to learn from their mistakes so hard that their own feature episode is actually about their sworn enemy instead, Saki Hanajima, who manages to grow from the valuable lesson that these three stooges miss completely.

To be fair, Motoko and her posse aren't painted as malicious on the same level as Akito Soma or Tohru's extended family members; they're irredeemable yet harmless laughingstocks rather than actual threats, and it's still entirely possible for them to get more development in the future—but this episode promises no such future, because Fruits Basket seems to understand that a redemption arc for this trio just isn't something the audience is dying to see. In a story about outcasts and weirdos forming found families by learning to grow alongside one another, the Prince Yuki fan club's greatest limitation is their own banal normalcy. Even the charming girl-next-door Tohru feels like a believable outsider thanks to her difficult personal history, but despite the trio's wildly differing personalities, it's easy to sum up all three as easily freaked-out squares who don't have to learn from their mistakes to blend into society and blunder their way through life with the begrudging support of other exhaustingly insecure normies. (Mio has always been my personal favorite. She's like the Karen Smith of the group, the girl most likely to leave all this drama behind once she finds less toxic friends.) After high school, either their teenage hormones will finally ebb, or they'll turn their bullying energy toward harassing other tired moms on the PTA until another Hana or Megumi finally calls them out so they can blame everyone but themselves all over again.

The Prince Yuki fan club's presence in Tohru's life is best played for laughs rather than drama, so Motoko's warped perspective on our heroine provides engaging if unexceptional comedy this week, as she and her minions blunder their way through a revenge plan that was doomed to failure from the start. Because we already know the softer side of Hanajima, the relative normalcy of her house doesn't offer the audience any surprises—with the exception of her bizarre little brother, Megumi. It's anyone's guess how this very cool middle-schooler (perhaps what Hiro would be like with a stronger support network) became so wise beyond his years, but his presence helps shake up a dynamic that could otherwise have become stale as Hana remained unflappable in the face of Motoko's monotonous empty threats. Of course, considering that Megumi's so close with his sister, it's reasonable to assume his insights into the nature of jealousy come from personal experience, as he's watched Tohru and Uo steal away Hana's time just like the Somas have gradually taken Tohru further away from her middle-school friends.

Between its many lighthearted scenes of effortlessly terrorizing would-be bullies, this episode's theme packs a surprising punch for how it stands out against Fruits Basket's usual messages. In a story that usually focuses on the importance of finding diverse ways to share your feelings with others, Hana realizes the necessity of holding back when the love you feel turns into entitlement, sometimes without you ever noticing the change. Megumi points out that "love" is such a powerful word that people will often use it to excuse horribly selfish actions, simply because they feel love toward the person they're mistreating, disrespecting, or attempting to control for their own satisfaction. Love can be an emotion, but cultivating a loving relationship, rather than admiring someone from a distance, has to be a two-way effort that both sides practice together. Feeling love toward someone makes this hard work easier, but it is work because love means choosing to put another person's feelings before your own as much as possible. At the point you claim that speaking over that person or crossing their boundaries is actually "love", simply because you feel love toward them while using parts of their life to enrich your own, you can't be surprised when their feelings toward you turn to hatred, just like Yuki has come to hate Akito despite the admiration he must have once felt toward his master. In his own way, Megumi is actually being quite kind to Motoko and friends, warning them of the nightmare that could ensue if their secret fantasies about Prince Yuki ever did come true.

Motoko's problem isn't that she doesn't "really" love Yuki—her infatuation and admiration for her Prince are not only genuine, but quite possibly stronger than Tohru's own feelings—but she's been using that passion to try and control him by saying Yuki belongs equally to everyone (and therefore no one), without regard for his own desires. This is especially tragic considering what we know about Yuki's growing need for support and intimacy with people outside the Soma family. Who knows how much more difficult the Prince Yuki fan club's machinations have made things for a boy who already struggles with opening up to others? As the narrator points out, the secret ethos of the Prince Yuki fan club is basically "Since I'm not good enough to have him, I'll only be happy if nobody can." Motoko assumes that Tohru thinks she's better than everyone because she's breaking their rules, but Tohru hasn't been thinking about herself at all. She may not feel love toward Yuki as powerfully as Motoko does, but she's much better at the work of loving him in the ways he needs, which is what's allowed Prince Yuki to become even more beautiful to all the girls basking in the glow of his newfound happiness.

I don't think Hana was ever in danger of locking Tohru up in her lair out of jealousy, but her frustration with so many Somas stealing her best friend's time away is certainly valid, so her loneliness could have deceived her into making more selfish demands on Tohru's life over time. Seeing how ugly Motoko, Minami, and Mio's entitled flavor of "love" has made them gives Hana a wake-up call, just in time to be reminded that Tohru will always come running when she needs her most. This was a slight but vital step forward for Fruits Basket's story, reminding us yet again why Uo and Hana are such an important part of Tohru's life—perhaps even the most important, as they firmly put the "support" in supporting cast. No matter what Akito and Shigure are scheming in the shadows, and no matter how Yuki and Kyo stumble in their efforts to support the first girl they've ever come to love, we can rest assured that Tohru's guardian demons will be there to protect the bond they've forged together not just in their hearts, but in their actions.

Source

Fruits Basket - Episode 5 [Review]

https://cdn.animenewsnetwork.com/thumbnails/max300x600/cms/episode-review.2/146388/froobfive.jpg

Fruits Basket - Episode 5 [Review]

What do Fruits Basket and Clannad have in common (besides making people cry)? Their initially obtuse alternate-language titles share the same meaning! At long last, Tohru delivers Furuba's title drop, and this is the reason why I was so happy that they moved the pickled plum parable up into episode three. Now that we understand Tohru's view of the world as a place where plain little riceballs feel like they don't belong, this episode expands the metaphor to make it clear that she was talking about her own loneliness just as much as Yuki or Kyo's. "Fruits Basket" just means family, and for all the crumbly riceballs of the world waiting for people to discover their inner beauty, family is something they have to find for themselves and fight for a little selfishly. After weeks of encouraging others to be their messy selves, Tohru finally finds the inner strength to reach out for what she's always wanted.

For most of her life, Kyoko Honda was the only family Tohru had ever known. Her new friends Uo and Hana are kind to her, but they also have families of their own to take care of, and losing this vital connection with her mother in such a sudden and tragic way has left our heroine a little shell-shocked. Even though we see Kyoko encouraging her to take things easy, it's obvious that Tohru derived most of her life's purpose from taking care of her mother, who she idolized completely. All those years of putting others first don't make it any easier for Tohru to recognize when she needs to start taking care of herself instead, and unfortunately, the Soma boys are equally bad at self-care for entirely different reasons. Most of the audience is bound to side with Shigure this week, as he raises his eyebrow at everyone's immediate acceptance that Tohru should go live with her "real" family. She doesn't consider asking to stay, and she doesn't even choose to commemorate her last night in the house by going out to dinner. The boys don't consider asking her to stay either, and they barely even wish her farewell because they've immediately slipped so deeply into acceptance and depression. It's all very strange given how quickly these three became close, and once again, this all comes back to the cast's inability to consider their own desires. As Kyo puts it, "it was abnormal for her to even be here at all." Why should Tohru live in a house with three men she barely knows? But if the life that you accepted as "normal" is less than you deserve, maybe pursuing that "abnormal" life is the right choice after all, despite all the social or familial pressures not to rock the boat or cause a scene.

Those pressures crash down on Tohru hard when we see exactly why the Honda family was so reticent to take her in. They're a petty and suspicious bunch of back-biters, terrified of the judgment of their neighbors and casually enamored with symbols of authority and order like the police force. This also raises the first of Fruits Basket's many uniquely Japanese societal conflicts, since it's not uncommon for people to lose their jobs or other opportunities purely because of a relative's criminal record in Japan. Thankfully, when Cousin Creep takes things too far by trying to grill Tohru on her potential indiscretions with the Somas, Grandpa Honda puts his foot down. He tells Tohru that he chose this family, even if they have their problems, but it's not a freeing environment for a young and sensitive person like her to grow up in. Admittedly, Grandpa's still having trouble telling the difference between our heroine and her mother, but this lends Tohru an unintended strength by reminding her that the intimidating power Kyoko exuded lives on in her as well, and it might be okay for her to call upon that fighting spirit for herself. And since she's given so much love to the Soma family, it only takes a small cry for help from Tohru for Yuki and Kyo to swoop in and bring her back where she belongs.

I'll be honest, I was an absolute mess watching this episode. I think the message that it's okay to pursue a life that makes you happy without shame is vital for everyone to hear—but especially for young girls, because I knew a lot of women like Tohru growing up, who would open-heartedly take on everyone else's burdens alone until they could no longer recognize that it was making them miserable. Whereas I was initially worried that Kagura's chapter wouldn't be able to fill a full episode last time, I knew that chapter six of the manga would absolutely need an entire episode to itself, as the first truly great dramatic climax in Tohru's story. She's taken a very tiny step toward fighting for the life and family she wants (she was already starting to berate herself for being selfish right before Yuki stepped in), but every long journey starts just that small, and now Tohru will be taking those steps hand in hand with more people who love her and want to see her grow.

On the note of manga adaptation, however, this episode made some significant changes that I liked and some that I didn't. It would take a long time to break down all of them, so the simple version is that this episode shifts away from telling its story almost purely from Tohru's perspective like the Furuba manga did, and instead broadens its scope to give Yuki, Kyo, Shigure, and even the Hondas more screen time. On the positive side, Fruits Basket will evolve into a broader ensemble drama over time, with many episodes where Tohru doesn't even appear, so it makes sense to start establishing this bigger scope now, and the added material was charming and in-character for everyone involved. On the negative side, there was a powerful sense of melancholy and suspense to both the original manga and the 2001 anime adaptation, where the weight of Tohru's denial about her true feelings built and built until the relief of her breakdown became transcendent. In this version, we get that catharsis mere minutes after she steps into the Honda's residence, which was disappointing. Ultimately, I think the pros and cons to these approaches even out, and the preserved strength of the underlying material is so great that it doesn't matter much.

My favorite detail in this episode that wasn't present in the original manga was how Yuki and Kyo found the Honda house. Yuki leaves first in a panic and wanders around in circles until Kyo gives him the clarity he needs to find the house, because he was listening more closely to Tohru's parting words. Just like the pickled plum in a riceball, the Honda family nameplate was buried underneath an innocuous bland exterior that took some effort to uncover. Then Yuki helps Kyo in turn by reminding him to consider Tohru's feelings before he acts on his own desires, so they can both step in only after she reaches out for them. It's a great sequence that illustrates how Yuki and Kyo's strengths can support one another even when they hate spending time together, on top of delivering a clever little metaphor for how hard it can be to push past the facades of selfless people like Tohru and make sure they're really doing okay.

On a final note, this episode is great not only for its powerfully simple emotional core about chosen families, but for its surreptitious level of crafty foreshadowing. This is the first we've heard about Tohru's father Katsuya or the extent of her mother's delinquency, and it paints an immediately complicated picture of the life they must have led, given that both sides of the family seem to have abandoned them even after Katsuya's death left Kyoko to raise her daughter alone. And now that Kyoko's ghost has been raised once again, her similarities to Kyo have also grown exponentially. First they had similar names, then they had similar hair, and now they have similar histories of impulsive violence and similar words of affectionate advice for Tohru to be a little more selfish. Is it all just coincidence, or could Tohru's late mother and her childhood idol possibly be connected somehow?

Then there's Shigure's role in all this, or more accurately his lack of a direct role. He's the only one in the Soma house who immediately understands that nobody wants Tohru to leave, but he keeps his mouth shut despite his supposedly important arrangement with the head of the family. This means that it's more important to Shigure that Yuki and Kyo actively fight for Tohru to be in their lives than it is that she just live there, or else he probably would have convinced everyone of that himself. Now that Tohru has officially chosen the Somas as her new family, for better and for worse, her life can only grow more colorful as many more members of the Soma family come to see what's so special about this riceball in a fruits basket.

Source

Fruits Basket

 

https://cdn.myanimelist.net/images/anime/4/75204.jpg

Fruits Basket

نام انیمه: Fruits Basket

نام انیمه: Furuba

نام انیمه: フルーツバスケット

ژانر: Slice of Life, Comedy, Drama, Romance, Fantasy, Shoujo

سال انتشار: تابستان 2001

وضعیت: تمام شده

تعداد قسمت‌ها: 26 قسمت

مدت زمان هر قسمت: 24 دقیقه

منبع: Manga

کارگردان: Daichi Akitarou

استودیو: Studio Deen

زیرنویس فارسی و انگلیسی دارد

لینک‌های مربوط به انیمه

+ لینک دانلود انیمه (MKV, BD, 720P, EN Sub, ~100MB)

+ لینک دانلود زیرنویس فارسی

+ اطلاعات بیشتر: سایت // سایت // سایت // سایت // سایت // سایت

+ لینک دانلود انیمه (MKV, 720P, BD, 8bit, ~350MB)

+ لینک دانلود انیمه (MKV, DVD, 480P, Dual Audio, ~60MB)

+ لینک دانلود انیمه (FLV, EN Dub, ~80MB)

+ تصاویر انیمه: عکس // عکس

+ لینک فایل تورنت (MKV, 8bit, BD, 720P, EN Sub, 9.4GB)

+ لینک فایل تورنت (MP4, BD, 720P, x264, RAW, 5GB)

+ لینک فایل تورنت (MP4, 9.7GBB)

+ لینک فایل تورنت (MP4, x264, BD, 720P, RAW, 8.3GB)

+ لینک فایل تورنت (FLV, EN Dub, 1.9GB)

+ لینک فایل تورنت (AVI, EN Sub, 5.8GB)

خلاصه انیمه (منبع)

Tohru Honda دختر شانزده ساله ی یتیمی است که دعوت می شود تا با همکلاسیش پسر خوش قیافه ای به نام Sohma Yuki و پسر عموی شانزده ساله اش Kyo و پسر عموی دیگرش که ۲۷ سال دارد Shigure زندگی کند. اما این مردان جوان و تعدادی دیگر از اعضای این خانواده دارای نفرینی هستند : اگر توسط جنس مخالفشان در آغوش کشیده شوند تبدیل به یکی از حیوانات تقویم چینی می شوند. زندگی روزمره Tohru آمیزه ای از اتفاقات جالبی است که در این خانواده می افتد . البته نفرین این خانواده دارای بی رحمی ها و ناراحتی هایی زیادی نیز است.

 

توضیحات من

وااااییییییییی

چه انیمه ی قشنگی بود! خیلی خوشم اومد.

این دختره تورا خیلی باحال بود.

این خانواده ی سوما هم عجب جالبناک بودن ها.

چند تا زودیاک داشتیم؟ ده یا دوازده؟ نشمردم.

ها ها ها

خوشم اومد از این انیمه ی قدیمی.

فقط معلوم نشد رئیس خانواده سوما، کدوم زودیاک است.

موش – گربه – سگ – مار – گراز – گاو – خرگوش – اسب دریایی - ببر - ؟؟ - ؟؟ - ؟؟

خب پس دوازده تا بودن. اون خواهر و برادر دبستانی الان یادم نیست چی بودن.

بچه ی سریدار چشمه آب گرم هم یادم نیست.

ولی رئیس خانواده اصلا مشخص نشد.

ها ها ها

این انیمه رو نگه میدارم. خوشم اومد.

یه  جورایی حارم دلخواه بود.

هممممم، فکر کنم اون پسر دبستانی، گوسفند بود. مطمئن نیستم.