Karura told herself that this was the last key lime pie that she would ever make. And it’s for her and no one else— both the pie and the process of folding all her sadness and grief into the lime zest filling.
Baking was therapy, Karura thought to herself. Something for her restless hands to do while her heart stubbornly refused to cooperate with the rest of her. Otherwise, she just kept crying into tissues she honestly could not afford to keep buying at this rate.
Karura just needed to add in their sweetest memories into the graham crust. And the sour almost bitter moments where Sasori turned hurtful into the zest— oh but she’ll mix it with just a bit of sugar, so it could be something she could swallow down and learn to live with.
And yet as she mixed the liquid ingredients, Karura’s mind wandered through the last time she baked him the pie. Sasori playfully trying to reach for a slice even before she set it down on the table. The offended look on his face when she pushed the pie even further. The red on his cheeks when Karura demanded a kiss on the cheek in exchange for a slice.
She thought of his freckles and how he hated them when the sun made them darker. She thought they were cute— even as he tried to scrub them off with odd pharmaceutical concoctions. And his stupid pout whenever he met some minor inconvenience. And his habit of knocking on their door on afternoons where he was bored, pretending he was just in the area—-
Another stream of tears rolled down Karura’s face. She wanted to rewind time back to last night— apologize for all the stupid thoughts and childish notions she shared. About wanting a life together. Or something… with Sasori…
/I’m not some civilian wanting to play house./
A tear landed directly into the filling.
And just like that, the wound in her chest opened all over again. Red and raw. Karura wanted to apologize and gather her helpless pride—
She couldn’t help it. She loved him.
But Karura steeled herself. This was part of the process. She’ll bake this last pie, swallow her sadness, and walk away from these childish dreams of hers.
When the pie was done, she set the thing on a plate. A slice neatly laid out for herself. Herself. She had made the pie for herself… she wouldn’t make anything for Sasori anymore… he’s not the kind of person who would want—
Karura’s face twisted and she burst into another bout of uncontrollable sobbing, the fork falling off her hands. This wasn’t working. This had too much of him in it— and she still wanted—-
No, no. Girl. Get a grip. A walk— that was what Karura needed. That’s it. She grabbed her scarf and headed for the door just as someone knocked on the door.
“Hey, I was just in the area and—“ Karura met Sasori’s large brown eyes. Shit. “I—“
The dam broke and the tears came out in torrents, her trembling lips barely able to parse together something coherent to say. “There’s pie— ah, on the kitchen—“ she wiped the tears. Gods, they’re still coming. “If you’ll excuse me—“
Karura shoved past the door and walked as fast as she could. Away. Don’t look back— not yet. In time, maybe. In time, they could be friends again and they could laugh again— but—
By then, Karura would have buried all the childish notions of what Sasori wanted in life. She’d never disturb him with such silly fantasies. That was what he wanted, after all.