Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits basket or any of the characters.
The wind blew down the empty street, the sky darkening as it went from the magical twilight hour to the quiet night. The houses silent and pitch black, either abandoned or the occupants sleeping. A lone mysterious figure made his way down the street, keeping in the dark shadows and avoiding the light pouring from the streetlights.
Tohru walked down the street nervously, eyes glancing up and down the street in search of passersby. He didn't want anyone from his school or neighbourhood spotting him lower himself to doing this, he had a reputation to maintain and gain. Slowly, he approached an old broken down house, his blonde hair fluttering slightly as he rushed up the path. When he reached the old door he stuck his hand out and knocked twice. The door jerked slightly with each knock signalling that its hinges were loose. A few pieces of red paint fell from the wood. Pulling the dark red jacket of his school uniform closer to his thin body he stood in the chilly autumn air. His uniform wasn't made for this kind of weather, it was meant for warmer days in the sun. His hair fluttered around as the strong autumn wind blew on his face. Thankfully, Tohru only had to wait a minute or two before the door was pulled open with a loud bang.
Tohru stared up at the man in the doorway, the young man didn't really want to do this. He had thought he would be able to do this on his own, but he was failing. He needed help. He couldn't stand another day at school in his situation, so When his 'friends' told him to seek out Makoto to help him work on his problem he thought his problems were solved. But in truth he had thought the man would be an old guy in a wheel chair who grumbled on about 'back in his day' not this slightly overweight man with a comb over and more wrinkles then in a Chinese phonebook wearing a snappy looking suit. But he knew he had to do this, no matter how embarrassing it was to ask for help it was the only way.
Glancing down at the ground every few seconds Tohru said "umm... Hi. I was just... wondering if you could maybe help me with something"
The elderly man looked down at the snot faced kid in front of him. Taking in the boys shoulder length blonde hair, big, soulful brown eyes and scrawny frame. The red Blazer, blue shirt and yellow pants that made up his uniform and the way the boy stood, hand twitching with each second that passed, the man grunted.
"Why should I help you? You're probably just after me money. " the old man then started mumbling to himself about young people and how they are only good for organ donations.
Tohru looked away in shame before thinking to himself 'I need to do this, there is nobody else.' Tohru took a deep breath to steady himself.
"I need you to teach me how to be a jerk, NOW!"
The man blinked at the demand before nodding slightly and turning around. The old man stomped into his house without another word, the silent instruction lingering in the air.
Tohru followed with only slight hesitation. He knew the elderly man would be grumpy and slightly cruel but he didn't expect this.
Makoto's living room was bare with only an old worn sofa, a blue recliner and a small black and white TV. in it. Makoto was relaxing on the recliner, so Tohru perched nervously on the edge of the sofa. Makoto grunted again then leaned forward so he could look into Tohru's mud brown eyes with his haxel orbs.
"So you want to be a jerk?" Makoto grumbled "well I can teach you but first you have to know this. I don't stand for the shallow jerkyness that runs rampant now. I can't stand it. I will be teaching you how to be a real jerk. You won't be just making fun of somebody to their face. You will be screaming to the whole world that that person is a loser. When I am finished you will be so much of a jerk that if you were a TV reporter you would risk your job just to tell everyone that someone is a loser. Do you understand?"
Tohru gazed at Makoto, admiration shining in his eyes. 'that's what I want' he thought, heart full of hope 'I must reach that level of jerkiness. It's my destiny.'
"When do we start?" he asked eagerly, leaning forward slightly to get closer to his newfound hero.
Makoto mumbled something about money, picked at the fraying armrest of the recliner then said "Saturday. 9am till 2pm. be there early or I will pour a bucket of freezing water on your head,"
Makoto then leaned back and turned the TV on to the news.
Tohru stood up at the obvious dismissal and looked at Makoto, who was ignoring him in favour of the news. He then silently left his new teacher and headed out into the chilly air and went home.