Fruit Basket Mayuko Novels & Stories

“I got you the fruits you wanted.” My eyes rounded. “Is that…?” He nodded. “Yes! It’s mangosteen. I managed to have it imported at the last minute just to make my wife happy.” “Awww, Luca… you’re so sweet, my love,” I said, looking down at the basket that he had placed in front of me. “I didn’t actually think I would be able to have these fruits since the country had run out of them. Thank you so much.” Tears stung my eyes before rolling down my cheeks. I could already imagine myself eating the fruits… the memory of the sweet, tangy flavour lingered on my tongue, making me salivate.

Claire’s “Ma’am Claire, please try these. Our mangoes here are delicious, export quality!” Eloy, the young son of Mang Nestor, one of the farmhands, said proudly. I smiled at him and took a plate piled high with sliced mangoes. I swallowed; they looked so tempting. Besides the mango trees, there were also coconut and banana trees. When we arrived earlier, Manang Belen made buko juice. It tasted completely different from the buko juice I’ve had in Manila. Manang’s was much sweeter and more flavorful, probably because of the ingredients—she used fresh coconuts, not artificial flavorings.

It was clear that she was trying her best to make her seem attentive, and she went a step further by handing a mango to Xavia while adding, “Here, taste one, Future Mrs. Burton! These mangoes are from Miyazaki in R Country, and they don’t grow very often. Because of that, you should know that each fruit costs approximately a thousand and five hundred dollars! Don’t be shy to have a bite!” …After conversion… What the hell? Why did such an expensive fruit even exist?! Regardless, though she knew that Fiona was just trying to call her poor, she pretended to be surprised as she replied, “It truly is an expensive fruit, Miss Squire! Well, don’t mind if I do!” With that said, she peeled the skin o

“What are your ideas, Miya?” I swallowed. “There are a few changes that could be made to the menu,” I said, “but one that has really been on my mind is the lemon pie. I picked up some prickly pears on my way in this morning, and I thought that the juice would add an excellent sweetness to the pie.” Samara raised her eyebrows. “Prickly pears, you say?” I nodded. “I know they are the national fruit of Fresonia.” Beside me, Fiona huffed.

I just can't believe it looked like I never left. Grandma opened the cabinet filled with small baskets of fruits. Oranges, green apples, blue and black berries which I don't know where they get those, mangoes, guava which I haven't tasted that in my life, pineapple, dragon fruit which I wonder if Emilia Clarke the mother of dragons in Game Of Thrones planted those like how she raised her dragon offspring, kerson fruit berries and some fruit I never seen before. I looked around and recognized paintings with my signature. Paintings I threw last year. I wonder how these stuffs got here.

He was in the middle of their stairs with his traveling bag in his hand. “What? There are other coolers?” “Yes, Mom!” Then came Mang Dado again with a big Coleman Cooler on his right shoulder. Excitedly, Carolina opened the second cooler, and once again her eyes grew big when she saw different types of fruits inside. There are dragon fruits, mango, soursop, and bananas. Then the third cooler made Carolina so excited to prepare her vegetable salad with sliced mango on the side. She also cooked her favorite chili-buttered shrimp. Carolina made it a point to say thank you to Damian Lincuja by sending him a text message, to which he replied immediately.

Finally, an array of desserts and fruit lined the end of the table: mango slices fanned out alongside glutinous rice drizzled with coconut cream, tiny bowls of pandan custard, and a colorful selection of tropical fruits—dragon fruit, rambutan, and mangosteen. May’s eyes widened as she took in the spread. “Wow, Pakin. You weren’t kidding when you said lunch here is something else.” I shrugged nonchalantly, but I was grinning. “Just a regular day.” We sat down, and I gestured for her to dig in. As we began serving ourselves, I tried to focus on the food and May’s cheerful chatter. But even as I laughed at her comments and enjoyed the flavors of the meal, a small part of me couldn’t stop wonder

Barun said, gesturing them to leave. Miria followed her grandfather with another glance at the warehouse. “Who was that, grandfather?” “That’s my friend from Deleima. He transported fruits and vegetables from their village,” the old man answered. “Oh, does he also transport Derima fruit? The fruit that has smaller fruits inside it that’s orange in color?” Miria asked, looking a bit curious. “Oh yes, and he ever gave me one at lunch break. It taste sour, yet sweet, it was nice,” Barun said, smiling as he remembered the taste. “Sadly, it’s quite expensive.”

Such a jerk! “50 PHP for pack, miss,” the ma’am said with a smiel on her face, I nodded and say, “Alright, we’ll buy three pack, ma’am,” I said and get money on my pocket, “It’s a seldomly see people here in Baguio buy rambutan fruit, only pregnant women buy this here are you pregnant darling?” she asks and look at me in the eyes.” What! Me? Pregnant?! Hahaha…

When good things come, our past desires also reborn. It has been Essi’s hobby to stroll the Bordeaux market and find good deals there. Her stroll towards the inner parts of the market feels like her fresh meandering in the market of Bayanihan as well. From there, she learned that the best stalls are often at the hinter parts of the market and the best products are often hidden or covered by the old supplies. She happily picks up oranges and other fruits. A special stall offers fresh buko as well. She thought of preparing a buko salad as a special dessert for Oneil to enjoy. While she was waiting for the vendor to pack her items, some fruits rolled towards her feet.