Disclaimer: No infringement intended. Please do not sue me for using 'America's Next Top Model' as a basis for this Fruits Basket story. I am a poor student. I study into the night (vampire). I play board-games. (Did that extract any sympathy?) In simple terms, suing me would not benefit anyone. Now, on with the drama (and cat-fighting amongst hot males)! I will attempt to stay true to the characters, but if something slips… you've been warned. Additional warning: There are spoilers. This story is rated for language (for now…).
Once upon a time, six identical letters were written. They were sealed and delivered. The rich, beautiful, delicate world of the Sohmas was about the come crashing down with the force of a shattering crystal ball.
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Sohma's Next Top Male Model - Cycle One presents:
Chapter 1: Sealed and Delivered
Kyo Sohma woke up to the cacophonous cry of the songbirds outside his bedroom. It was seven. He muttered some angry words under his breath. He stretched his legs and yawned like a slothful lion, before opening his eyes to the warm sunlight filtering in through the wide window. He padded downstairs barefoot. Tohru was at Hanajima's house for a sleepver; that meant no breakfast, unless one considered Yuki's fabulous dry, salty, scrambled eggs atop pebbly grains of burnt rice.
He poured himself a glass of milk.
He noticed a letter propped up on the granite countertop by one of Shigure's smutty romance novels, this one entitled Eternal Love. Of course there was praise on the cover (featuring a silhouette of a female): The Bestselling Author, Shigure Sohma presents his latest gem… Ai-yah! The man loved no one but himself (the vain, egotistical, self-centered bastard that he was), how could these books be so successful?!
He stopped his mind from descending into an apoplectic rage. It was bad for his young heart. He focused on the letter. The familiar scrawl read: Aki Mail.
What the hell?!, Kyo thought. He picked up the letter and tore it open.
To the male resident(s):
Please come to the Main House today at eleven-thirty for lunch. Please be prompt. Instructions will be given.
For what? That was as vague as hell, he thought. There's no way I'm going. My reason: I hate Akito.
Just then, Yuki sauntered into the kitchen.
"Good morning."
"Eh. Cowlick," he stated nonchalantly, pointing at Yuki's head. Yuki self-consciously matted down his hair, to no avail. The tendril of hair popped right back up.
"What is that?" Yuki asked.
Kyo shoved the 'thing' in questions into Yuki's chest and said, "I'm off."
"Wait," Yuki said, but Kyo was gone, for a contemplative jog to the high-pitched cries of the birds. Yuki opened the crisply folded letter and read the short message. What was this? Akito never summoned them. Yuki's mind began churning. He had not seen Akito in four months. Was there something urgent? She was feeling 'exceptionally' overwhelmed by life and wanted to go on a seven-year vacation to the tropical island of Fiji? Or maybe a permanent leave to the Artic where she might freeze to death without her medication? Or maybe diagnosed with agoraphobia and needed to be locked up in a dank dungeon because it was affecting her weak heart? Yuki had an evil little mind.
As Yuki pondered, he heard a crash. There was no one in the house except Shigure. That up-to-no-good dog! Curiosity got the best of him and he went down the hallway to Shigure's closed bedroom. He knocked.
"Are you okay?"
He heard a strained, "I'm fine."
He doesn't sound fine. Yuki pushed the door open and found Shigure lying on the ground, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. Yuki crossed his arms and looked down at the unkempt older man, who had his yukata open, hair mussed, arms twisted in an awkward position.
"A little help here?"
Yuki shifted to Shigure's side and offered both hands. He pulled the taller man to his feet. "Read this."
Yuki procured the now-wrinkled letter from his breast-pocket. Shigure glanced over the paper and his face turned a rosy pink. So?
"It doesn't sound odd to you, that she wants all three of us there?"
"No."
"Not even a bit. In addition to the fact that she hates Kyo and me."
"No."
"Are you okay? Your face is red."
"No."
"Need me to get you anything?"
"No."
Shigure closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
"Are you listening to me?"
"No."
Yuki growled, "You are so incorrigible! I want to have nothing to do with her! You can unwrap yourself too!" And Yuki stormed out of the bedroom.
Hormones, Shigure thought to himself.
He tied the sash around his waist and went to the kitchen to make some bitter oolong tea.
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Ayame was soaking in his claw-foot bathtub when the doorbell buzzed. He said brazenly, "I'm taking a shower. The door is unlocked. Please come in. Don't be shy."
He loved visitors. Anyone. Anything. Hiro stormed to the bathroom and stared at the grown man immersed in bubbles, smelling of lavender and honey. Hiro stared in shock at the frumpy yellow robe lying on the ground. He thought: cross-dresser.
"Stupid Akito wants me to hand deliver all these stupid letters."
"Give it here."
Hiro handed the letter to Ayame. "Hmm."
Ayame read the message and said, "Thank you minion. Oh, and if you see her, tell her I'll be there."
Hiro gave his Blondness the evil eye before turning and leaving. He slammed the door. Hiro trudged through the stone garden to Hatori's office. This guy was tolerable. He knocked twice and waited.
The door opened, and there stood the stoic doctor in all his blinding-white glory. Hiro's stomach grumbled at the most inopportune time.
"Hello Hiro. How are you?" Hatori greeted curtly.
"Fine. This is from Akito."
Hatori took the envelope and opened it. His knuckles turned white. The color drained from his face, except for his swollen lips. His sex-induced misty eyes turned dark, charcoal. Akito hadn't found out about Tohru and his relationship, had she? He nodded at the boy and closed the door. He walked back to his bedroom, to the sleeping girl on his bed. He returned to the warmth of his bed and snuggled beside his secret lover. He kissed her bare shoulder and whispered, "I love you."
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The small messenger went past the dried fountains and stone benches and finally arrived at the home of his young cousin: Momiji Sohma. He knocked at the door swiftly, the loud sound filling his ears.
A pretty young girl opened the door. "Hello?"
"Hello, is Momiji home?"
"He's practicing the piano. Would you like me to tell his something?"
"Yes. Give him this confidential letter."
"Okay."
---
Hiro bowed before skipping to Haru's bungalow at the edge of the property. The dwelling wasn't much—it was made out of straw…
Whoa, scratch the last statement. This is not the Three Little Pigs. This is far from that fairytale. This is the tale of…
We'll get to that at the end of this chapter.
Haru's cabin was twenty-feet by twenty-feet. It had a bathroom, stove-and-oven set, a study area, a bed, a TV, and a couch. That was all a guy needed, right? Previously, it had been the maid's quarters, but now the maids lived off the property, well, most of them anyways.
Hiro knocked.
The door opened on the third knock. "What is it Rin? I thought I told you last night!"
Gosh darn it; I don't want to talked the Mad Cow! Haru's eyes turned clear upon seeing his young cousin. "Oh. Hey."
"Hello Haru-san. I have something for you."
He took the second to last letter from the crook of his arm. "Thanks Hiro," Haru said, mussing up the shorter boy's hair.
"Hai."
Haru said, just as Hiro was turning away, "Do you want to come in for some breakfast?"
Hiro was hungry…
"I made it myself."
Nah.
"No thanks," he replied and scuttled off to the safety of the stone garden to read the letter addressed to him.
The young boy perched at the edge of the bench.
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Now, you wonder what these letters entail, right?
Once upon a time, six identical letters were written. They were sealed and delivered. The rich, beautiful, delicate world of the Sohmas was about the come crashing down with the force of a shattering crystal ball.
This is the story of a race.
A testosterone-ridden race of forbidden passions, darn-sexy dress-up, small undergarments, macabre lead-poisoned makeup (smoky eyes and blush…), playful posing, clicking cameras, glitzy catwalks, revealed secrets, nude men gathered in a bathhouse, sultry photo shoots, commercial advertisement, mud fights, wigs (yes, you heard that right), unforgiving etiquette lessons, not-mournful tears, the pestering paparazzi, camping in the mountains, groveling, pouting, crazy personalities…
All folded into one crazy angst-filled, passionate, harrowing tale.
Where the perfect lighting, the perfect smile, the perfect pose is success.
It will team enemies together.
It will make friends, enemies.
It will change the course of history for the Sohma clan.
It will separate the weak from the powerful.
It will separate the strutting emerald-green peacocks from the chicken-wannabe pigeons.
It will shake the calm waters with an unknown force.
It will throw these "shadow children" into the fiery pits of tabloids, public scrutiny, and the media.
It will embarrass, humiliate, taunt and ultimately make a man.
A male model, in fact.
This is: Sohma's Next Top Male Model.
TBC…
A/N: Hey! Please comment! Tell me what you think! Next up, the first initiation challenge.