Author's Notes: Don't ask. I have issues. Written after gathering three nouns: walrus, man, and failure.

This explains episode 50. Yes, this is for the canon future. Yes, I may write sequels.

TIMING

Lesson One

Daisuke leaned over the railing of the exhibit and squinted.

"What are these, again?"

"Pacific walruses." Ken pointed at the plastic placard that Daisuke was obscuring with half of his body. "Odobenus rosmarus."

Across from them, the walruses lounged lazily on the rocks and soaked up the sunlight.

"They're not doing anything interesting," Daisuke grumbled.

Ken rolled his eyes. "What sparkling observation skills you have, Daisuke-kun."

"Well . . ." Daisuke turned around, adopted a stance he hoped looked casual and maybe even charming, and rested his elbows against the railing. "I didn't ask you to come here with me so we could look at animals all day."

"We're in a zoo. That's what you do when you're in a zoo." Ken gestured vaguely to the content walruses. "You look at animals. But if you don't like the walruses, then—"

He stopped talking when Daisuke's fingers pressed across his lips.

"I'd rather look at you."

Startled: "What?"

"Humans are still animals," Daisuke said. He moved his hand away. "I'd rather look at you."

"Daisuke-kun . . ." Ken began hesitantly.

Daisuke grinned a little. "You've been looking at me for years. I know it took me a long time to decide, but! You remember what I said before, don't you?"

"That was three years ago."

"I know. I know it took me a long time—"

"Daisuke-kun, there's someone else."

"I know. I know. Miyako-san. But I thought she was just keeping you company until—"

"I think I'm serious about her."

This came to be known as the longest second of Daisuke's life.

". . . What?"

Ken studied the way his hands curled around the railing. "I think I'm serious about her," he repeated. "It's been three years. I think I'm serious about her."

"Who are you trying to convince here?" Daisuke asked without meaning to.

Ken's eyes were cold when he looked up. "I don't have to convince myself of anything, Motomiya."

"So what? You think you're 'serious' about her? Just break it off. It's not like you're going to marry her or anything."

The purple-colored ice in those eyes—like arctic ice exposed to fresh dawn, to a new beginning—didn't ebb away.

". . . Don't tell me you're going to marry her or anything. You're not, right? Ichijouji?"

"I was going to tell you today, actually. I was going to invite you to the ceremony. Funny how life works out sometimes."

"You can't marry her!" Daisuke exclaimed. "You're supposed to like me, remember?"

"I'm supposed to like you?" Ken said, incredulous. The scornful tone wounded Daisuke in a way he had never experienced before. "When did this happen? Someone obviously forgot to send me the memo."

"Ichijouji—" Daisuke reached out and tried to catch the other man's sleeve. "Ichijouji—please—"

"Don't touch me." Ken dodged the hand and stepped back from the railing to stare at Daisuke with open hostility. "Don't you dare touch me!"

The last thing Daisuke remembered seeing of Ken was the fluttering of his long, dark blue hair. Ken didn't even bother to run away because he knew Daisuke wasn't going to follow after him this time. That's not to say he moved with a saunter or anything remotely arrogant—just a stiff, merciless sort of pace that carried him and all of Daisuke's belated dreams away as quickly as they had come to fruition.

After an hour of staring at where Ken had once stood, Daisuke turned around to look back at the walruses. The pacific walruses. Odobenus rosmarus. They were over by the zookeeper's private inlet now, ripping apart a delivered payload of clams, snails, and mussels.

He lowered his head and tried not to cry while the shattering shells flashed in the sunlight.