Fruit Basket Shigure Novels & Stories

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.”

The lady was still standing at the same spot, waiting for an answer to which Carol looked here and there for an excuse and fetched the fruit basket instantly, moving the thing towards Grand Empress, “My lady, it’s been great weather these days and these peaches and cherries are so juicy. I plucked them from the eastern zone of our mountains just for you.” Grand Empress looked at Carol, who had been trying to hide away her uneasiness under that smile, and then at the fruits in that white basket made of the silken threads interwoven with bamboo fibres. It contained fresh fruits, and the cherries appeared to be deliciously juicy just the way Carol said. Looking at those plump peaches, the Empre

For all she knew, she could see them sparkling—literally glimmering as if someone had sprinkled fairy dust over the petals for effect. And the fruits. Oh god, the fruits. A silver bowl overflowing with opulence sat among the blooms. Plump strawberries, golden kiwis sliced with surgical precision, red grapes that shimmered like polished rubies. An apple so glossy she could probably see her reflection. Every piece of fruit looked unreal, like it had been photoshopped into existence. Selena blinked. Then blinked again, because surely this was a hallucination. She slowly turned back to Theo—who now seemed even more exhausted, if that was possible—and then looked back at the divine altar of produ

She added he last part as if it was an afterthought. I didn’t want to answer that question, our ideas of fun differed greatly. “Spoilsport. Anyways, look what we brought you.” She said shoving the basket in my face, “A basket of fruit.” The basket made me gag, its content rotten and the stink filled my nose. I tried pushing it away but she held it firm. “Now, don’t you know it’s rude to refuse a gift?” Casey said, “We went through so much to get that for you.”

"Trey, it's about time you got here. Simone and I have been having ourselves a nice chat." Trey squints his eyes at both of us as he walks farther into the building. Under his right arm, he carries a basket wrapped in clear cellophane. The short round wicker basket has two handles raised to the sides to help keep in the pile of fruit from spilling over the edge. The rich brown color of the basket contrasts against the brightly colored bananas, apples, and oranges inside the plastic wrap. He slides the basket across the desk top to me. "A first day gift."

“So cool.” “You find it cool?” He knelt on the ground. Checking the content of the basket. The first one was filled with different sizes of containers and napkins. While the others are full of fruits like mangoes, apples, oranges and some grapes. It was more than enough for the two of them. “Yeah.” His arms were clutching at the rock. Peaking at Henrick’s action. “I mean, even if I became as rich and powerful as you, I don’t think I would be able to make my people feel scared in my presence.”

Amelia glances over her shoulder, caught between amusement and concern as she sees the excited expressions of her men—ready to explore a world that exists beyond the waves. In a moment of eagerness, she strides toward a vendor selling an array of spiced fruit. Bright colors catch her eye—red pomegranates, vibrant oranges, and tantalizing purple figs. The vendor, a short man with curly hair and a large grin, holds out a palm adorned with glistening fruit. “Taste!” he invites, his voice lilting with warmth, a welcome offered among the chaos.

The dishes were extraordinarily refreshing and much more delicious than the signature dishes of other restaurants. The boss also brewed his own fruit wine. In fact, the peach blossom wine and mulberry wine were so superb that Sherry drank two bottles in one go. Carl curved his almond-shaped eyes at her. “Sherry, don’t get drunk or I’ll have to carry you back. Don’t blame me if something accidentally happens between us.” Sherry imitated his smile. “If you don’t shut up, don’t blame me for accidentally bashing your head open.”

"Nonsense! You've done more for me than you realize. It's the least I can do." Flora watched as Catarina arranged the fruit in a colorful display, the bright reds, yellows, and greens a stark contrast to the dullness of the hospital room. The sight of the fresh fruit, cut with care and arranged with love, filled her with a deep sense of gratitude. She reached out and took a piece of mango, savoring the sweet, juicy taste as it burst in her mouth.

"No, no. It's already too late for that. I got this. I just need to get used to a few things, and I'll be fine." "I can figure it out," she encouraged herself, and as she checked further, her eyes landed on a woven basket tucked near the counter. Blinking, she tilted her head. "How come I never saw this?" "Did Lythari keep this here secretly?" She smiled and curiously reached for it, carrying it over to the sink. "How lovely," she muttered. "Fruits. How I love fruits. Ugh," then she started naming them. "We have blueberries, strawberries, raspberries; not sure what these deep purple ones are called. Mmm… but I think I should know them. What are they called again?"