In the beginning, there is nothing.

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At some point, there is something.

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That something is pink. Cheerful, happy, determined, stubborn, lonely. It radiates love but it's made of pain and self-loathing. So much self-loathing. It's that part of someone who is hated and is violently cut off with a sharp knife. Somehow, even if its existence has just began, it's broken and oh so fragile.

Its solid purpose is to be a flaw.

The others around it seem to think it does its job pretty well.

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It stops being solid pink.

Now it's rosy.

It is still the same in its core, for how could it not, but everything around it changes.

Now there is a white are where no one feels. A blue veil of sadness and yellow lights of rage covers what was once its' home. It's all so tragic and all so beautiful but it still lacks something.

That, in a narrator's humble opinion, might be because it's happy. For the first time, it is loved. Loved by everyone and everything. Loved by someone, merely a man, who sees something full of flaws and manages to see beauty in it. Loved by two who think it freedom fighter. Loved by a young one who hasn't met them like they used to be back when they were just a flaw in a bright jewel. Loved by the past in the form of an assistant a loved one a friend someone who cherished it since the very beginning. Even if these don't belong to it-nothing belongs to it anymore-a bliss is created in its life.

Yet, it still isn't whole. Something still misses.

Sometimes, it thinks, it's because this picture perfect life is made with shattered lives, tears and blood. It's an ugly thought and sometimes, rarely, it prays someone will come and make them pay.

The scale can only lean towards left for so long.

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For a mere seconds, there is nothing.

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And then, there is the universe.

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For as long as it could remember, its life and energy course were as followed; Pink Diamond, Rose Quartz, and a part of Steven Universe. Sure, no consciousness was involved, but it could tell the difference between had made Pink Diamond and what made Steven. It still held a distance between the two.

And yet, when something reaches to its core, the two sides of the same coin overlap.

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Something is wrong.

It's as simple as that.

It's always as simple as that.

Somehow it feels perfect.

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Perfect has never felt more wrong.

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At that moment, it truly exists. This is no longer a part of one Rose Quartz, on the contrary, Pink Diamond is a part of it. This is how it's meant to be. It's flawless. It's perfect. It's the epitome of perfection-and of apathy.

It looks left and right. Family and friends. They are perfect too, perfectly still, perfectly numb. In a way, it's scary how perfect everything is. Seems like a grown up's play, a perfectly acted scene, a well-made miniature, everything smooth and accurate.

At the same time, the scenery is captivating.

(The scenery, Rose remembers, was always captivating. Even when the thousands of gems thought themselves winners of the great battle. Even when a blue and yellow light blinded them. Even when the white energy destroyed every gem it touched. Even when they screamed and Rose tried-and tried and tried but Pink always failed-to shelter them, tried to rescue them, it was all so tragically beautiful.)

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There is something, however, that could never be perfect. Never could be beautiful. Never could be right.

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(Steven clenched Connie's shirt with all the power he had left.

He was sighing with battered breath. His feet were weak and how they didn't break in two like sticks was question worthy. His eyes stung, they were puffy and red, in spite of his inability to cry. Something was missing and Steven, the oh so young child, was feeling a sharp pain in every inch of his body.

Would he survive this, if by some miracle he survived this, he hoped the pain would get better. Otherwise it would truly be a faith worse than death could ever be.)

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"I need it."

He says it as a whisper.

He says it as a plead.

He says it as an order.

No matter the way, no matter the pain with which it's uttered, his gem remains out of reach.

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It seems that, were they able, everyone would hold their breath when the moment of revelation came.

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Death is a funny thing.

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When Pink died, the world cried in agony.

(But the aftermath was even worse.)

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When Rose died, her world cried in despair.

(But the aftermath was worth it.)

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If Steven died, many would weep, if they still lived.

(And the aftermath would probably be the worst of it all.)

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It seemed that Pink was truly White's greatest flaw.

Because despite all that would be solved had she returned, Pink was never one to think before she acted. And now, for the first time since her creation, she decided to live with her choice.

Her choice was Steven.

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Ironically enough, she wouldn't get to live with that choice.

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"What is this?" White is clearly enraged. It doesn't matter anymore. The choice has been taken and it has been reformed. However, the question still remains; what is this.

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This is self-acceptance.

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This is the future.

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This is a new beginning.

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This is love.

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This is, entirely and undoubting, one Steven Universe.

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"Where is Pink?"

She is everywhere. In every gem's shattered memory. In the hearts of everyone who loved her, and Rose, in the eyes of the gems of a past era. In the walls that hold the Diamond Authority together.

She is here.

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And yet—

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"She's gone!"

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In reality, even after many years passed for the truth to be discovered, Pink's death was tragic.

But Steven's life was beautiful.