#shigure sohma

[ponderingmoonlight]

Quiet mornings with Shigure Sohma

Pairing: Shigure x reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: While you're surrounded by mess and trouble all day, you can't help but enjoy those mornings with none other than Shigure.

Warnings: the fic no one asked for, I fell for fruits basket so hard that you guys are forced to read my trash now hehe, fluff over fluff

The weather outside is soft today. Not warm, not cold, just enough of something in-between to make the morning feel cozy. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor like you always do, sunlight pooling across your lap, your hands holding a ceramic mug of tea. The house feels quiet with all the kids gone, without Tohru’s soft voice and the boys fighting over nonsense. But that peace, you know, is an illusion. Or, at the very least, a temporary state.

Because Shigure Soma is never quiet for long.

Right on cue, there’s a shuffle of feet against the floorboards, and then his voice - a melodious hum that could belong to someone much less chaotic.

“My darling,” he calls, the sing-song lilt of his tone already filled with teasing.

“How rude of you to start your morning without me. My feelings are positively shattered!”

You tilt your head just enough to see him standing in the doorway, one hand pressed theatrically to his chest as though wounded. His yukata is draped carelessly over his shoulders, the belt knotted loosely at his waist. His hair is a little messy, and he hasn’t yet shaved the faint stubble on his jaw. But the sight of him - rumpled, relaxed, utterly himself -makes warmth bloom in your chest anyway.

“Shigure,” you say with an exasperated smile, “it’s past ten. I’m not going to wait forever for you to wake up.”

He gasps as though you’ve just insulted his ancestors.

“Ah, how cold-hearted my sweet muse is! If you loved me, surely you’d have brought me breakfast in bed-”

“I made tea,” you interrupt, raising your mug pointedly.

“And there’s toast in the kitchen. If you want anything else, you’re on your own.”

He pouts, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not offended in the slightest. He never is, really. Shigure’s ego might be gigantic, but it’s not fragile. If anything, he seems to flourish on your chit-chat, your little refusals lightening up his mood even more. It’s a dance the two of you have perfected, a rhythm of soft blows and exaggerated reactions that always ends in laughter.

Shigure pads across the room and lowers himself to sit beside you, far closer than necessary. You feel the brush of his knee against yours, the gentle press of his arm as he leans in, peering at your face with open curiosity.

“And what, pray tell, are you thinking about so deeply, hmm? You’ve got that faraway look again.”

His voice is quieter now, softer. You don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you, their usual playfulness tempered by something more genuine.

You hesitate, caught off-guard.

“I’m not… really thinking about anything,” you reply, though it’s not entirely true.

There’s always something brewing in your mind: a stray memory, a half-formed plan, the ever-present hum of life’s what-ifs. How are you supposed to enjoy the present with the past and future weighing down on you this heavily? But explaining those things feels impossible, so you simply shrug.

“Just enjoying the quiet, I guess.”

Shigure hums thoughtfully, tilting his head as if to examine you from a different angle. His dark eyes are warm, patient, even as his lips twitch with the beginnings of another grin.

“Ah, yes. You’ve been enchanted by my humble house. It’s no wonder you’ve fallen for me so completely.”

You roll your eyes while taking a brief look at the destroyed shoji, don’t bother moving away when he rests his head against your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek, and you can smell the faint trace of his shampoo. Definitely something light and floral. Did he use yours again?

“You’re insufferable,” you murmur, but there’s no real bite in your words.

Your free hand comes up almost instinctively to comb through his hair, smoothing out some of the more unruly strands. He hums again, this time in obvious ease.

“You’re so good to me. “Really, I don’t deserve such a kind, gentle soul.”

You snort, flicking his ear lightly.

“That’s the first truthful thing you’ve said all morning.”

Shigure doesn’t respond right away, but you feel him shift, his weight settling more fully against your side. It’s a little unbalanced, but you don’t mind. His presence is warm, comforting against the sometimes harsh reality. And though he’s quiet now, you can sense the wheels turning in his head, the way his mind is always spinning with something - mischief, poetry, or the occasional genuine thought he’ll tuck away for safekeeping.

It’s in moments like this that you’re reminded of the duality of Shigure Sohma. He’s a mystery wrapped in jokes and half-truths, a man who wears his whimsy like armor but lets it slip when he’s close enough to trust. And though he can be infuriating, there’s a softness to him as well, a tenderness that he rarely shows but always carries.

“I like this,” he comments suddenly, his voice low enough that you almost miss it.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t look at you, but you can feel the weight of his words settle in the space between you.

“Like what?” you ask quietly.

“This.”

He gestures vaguely, his hand brushing yours where it rests on the floor.

“The mornings with you. The quiet. The way you let me bother you without pushing me away.”

There’s a smile in his tone while his breath caresses your skin gently, but it’s faint, almost self-conscious.

You blink, taken aback. Shigure is rarely so direct, so open. When was the last time he talked this seriously with you, let alone with his voice this muted? You don’t quite know what to say, but you feel something shift in your chest, a fluttering warmth, soft and fragile.

“I like it too,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Even when you’re being a nuisance.”

That earns you a chuckle, low and rich. Shigure lifts his head to look at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes him look far younger, far happier. He doesn’t say anything, but his gaze lingers, warm and steady, as though committing you to memory.

For a moment, the two of you simply sit there, the world fading into the background. The sunlight shifts, casting patterns across the floorboards, and the faint scent of tea and spring air fills the room. It’s the kind of moment that feels fragile, like it could shatter if you so much as breathe too loudly. You can’t help but allow your eyes to rest for a moment, to take in the calmness of the moment.

But then Shigure sighs dramatically, breaking the spell.

“Ah, I suppose I’ll have to go hunt for food if I want to survive this cruel, neglectful treatment.”

You laugh, the sound light and unrestrained.

“There’s toast in the kitchen. You’re so dramatic”, you remind him again, shaking your head.

“And yet you adore me,” he remarks, pushing himself to his feet with exaggerated effort.

He stretches, his yukata slipping slightly from one shoulder, and you catch the briefest glimpse of his collarbone before he adjusts it. A man looking this good with that cheeky mouth…How is your stay here supposed to end in a good way?

“Maybe I do,” you reply without thinking.

The words slip out way too easily, carried by the warmth in your chest and the sight in front of you.

Shigure freezes, his hand halfway to his hair. For a moment, you think you’ve gone too far, that you’ve somehow crossed an invisible line. Does he feel uncomfortable, insulted even? But then he turns, his expression unreadable, and you feel your breath catch.

“Careful, my dear,” he murmurs, his voice low and almost teasing.

There’s a flicker of something else in his eyes. something softer, more vulnerable. Something you’ve never caught before in his gaze. For a moment, time seems to stand still, your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“I might just take you seriously.”

You hold his gaze, the words lingering in the air between you. And though your heart is racing, you manage a small, steady smile.

“Maybe you should.”

[sighsra]

like a rice ball in a fruits basket!

[sohmatrashpile]

[lionsoap]

remember when fruits basket was like kindness isn’t a weakness it’s a strength and there’s nothing wrong with vulnerability and love

[owarinaki]

Kyo & Tohru & Yuki- Fruits Basket Manga Illustration arts part II

Part 1 // Part2 // Part3

Anime S1 // S2 // S3 Final

[bloodraven55]

i'm sorry but the one two punch of absolute petty messiness that is "YOU FUCKED MY MOM" "yeah well only bc you fucked someone else first" here just launched me into the stratosphere like this shit had me more gagged than any other top 10 anime plot twist

[iam-what-killed-the-dinosaurs]

[emilianatsuki]

People who having issues with female characters and shoujo and don't allow them to have flaws, be feminine and have issues now apparently. They keep chosing the worst characters to make a point like this. Tohru Honda is one of the most complex protagonists in shoujo and one of my favorite characters period.

She is kind, bubbly and feminine however it comes from a sense of wanting to be loved and a fear of abandonment. She is inherently kind but there's reasons behind her kindness. Her kindness can also hurt her because she struggles to say no and can let people use her.

Tohru slowly learning her self worth across the manga and starting to stand up for herself and love herself despite what others might say is character development that appeals to me personally. Tohru is incredibly relateable and complex, I don't understand people who call her a bland protagonist.

[lilium-dragomir]

[the-mother-of-lions]

do i like this character or are they just voiced by nakamura yuuichi?

(both. it's both)

[angstintensifer]

Fruits basket fake tweets part 1

[morgandrawssstuff]

Ah the Sohma family, my favourite emotional support cult

[musicalmoritz]

I love to analyze characters flaws but I have a problem with the way a lot of fans do it because they’ll be like “hey this character has actually done some terrible things, you shouldn’t like them.” What if I told you those terrible things made me like them 100x more??

[sohmatrashpile]

[lionsoap]

i don’t talk about this aspect of the series much but the portrayal of tohru’s grieving process is so poignant and heartbreaking. like i think it’s one of the things fruits basket did best.

i think that in grief it’s not that they died, because it’s hard to even comprehend that, it’s that they’re gone. Like something was once there and now it’s not. tohru keeps her mom with her at all times, with the picture, the lessons she’s been taught, the anecdotes.

i also think how she interacts with people regarding it is very accurate, she gets insecure in season 2 over discussing her mom too much, because she’s afraid she’s making the zodiac feel bad and making it all about her. i think this resonates with those who have lost people and don’t know how to interact with others over it. she doesn’t want to take away attention from others, but she doesn’t want to never talk about her mother.

and finally, tohru’s need to help isn’t just inherent kindness (the series has said kindness is a choice), while she is kind, she cannot bear more loss. it also allows her to not look inward and think about what she wants for herself, which is why it took her so long to realize her feelings for kyo. one of the most important plot lines and conflicts of the series still stems from the very beginning, because that is how much grief can color your life.

her allowing herself to live for herself, is a form of healing from all she’s been through. and i think her mom would be proud :,)

[dixondean]

Tohru and Kyo really invented romance and true love 🩷🧡