It was time again for another vision. Red's body shivered upon the couch while her mind took her feet and glued them upon the front step of Morganite's apartment.
As Red reached for the heart-shaped knob of her small pink door, it separated from the old, dusty frame and revealed the innards of that space, where stacks of books piled upon the floor, and garbage in the form of cardboard, empty tea bottles, crinkled up papers, and an ancient television amassed. The screen spit out static images of cute girls in skimpy outfits. Other than that, it hardly functioned.
Japanese echoes hit Red's ears before the door shut.
She read the word 'Zetsubo' written upon one of the walls in ink. Despite the use of those complicated characters, the meaning read clearly; just as the vision of the inside of her apartment was in stunning, high definition.
"You shouldn't be here."
Her first Pearl sat at that low table. Her gaze did not move from its grubby surface.
Red could hardly see the gorgeous blue of her gentle eyes.
"Pearl—"
She raised a coal colored hand.
And they remained momentarily still in relative silence. The clock upon the wall whispered out its count of measured time, but the hands had broken and stopped one day at exactly 3:15, and 46 seconds.
"Red, don't come here."
"Pearl—"
"This mission is foolish, and I think you know that."
Neither gem spoke until Pearl continued: "Morganite isn't a threat to Homeworld. She's been living here peacefully, and has no intention of conspiring against your Diamond or any other. Leave her alone."
The noble bit her bottom lip and looked into the hallway.
There was Morganite, laying flat against the floor like a corpse. She did not breathe, nor did she move. Her body had frozen in time just like the hands of the clock. Maybe she, too, had quit at exactly 3:15 and 46 seconds.
"That doesn't matter. I have to at least capture her."
"Why?"
Tick. Tick. Tick. A few birds made their songs outside the window and its dim light.
Finally, Pearl's electric eyes addressed Red. "Why didn't you make love to me?" Her pretty lips bent into a frown. "It wouldn't have mattered, and it bothers me. It's bothered me since the moment you refused. I loved you."
The ex-servant's stare drew a cold sweat upon the back of the current aristocrat's neck. Red gulped and Pearl did not look away.
"I wanted to know what it was like."
The birds continued with their noise.
"I guess it really doesn't matter. I would have been crushed anyway."
"Pearl—"
And they were holding one another, sharing saliva and other fluids on the fainting couch in Red's own chambers. Visions that didn't have a clear or singular owner blurred at the edges like paper exposed to an open flame.
Red woke up alone with skin indeed covered in a cold sweat, in addition to a dry mouth and damp thighs.