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Old wooden clock shows it's minutes prior to one hour in the morning.
"Happy New Year!" Hikari announces for the nth time, screaming from the balcony to the world and the rest of Tokyo.
The general sense of euphoria of a new year and too many glassed of Jyou's parents' sake affected everyone, and Taichi's younger sister wasn't excluded, no matter how hard he tried to stop her from drinking.
Daisuke, Takeru, and even Iori somehow managed to get Jyou on board to smuggle some of his family's alcohol after he had invited them out of blue to his New Year's party, not even giving them explanation on why he was hosting it, nor how found time to organize everything, considering how much he threw himself into studies these days. And yet, he still did all of that for them, and now he is completely wasted, crying on Mimi's shoulder, soaking her new dress. Gomamon's surprisingly asleep, but Jyou probably forgot to wake him up.
Palmon's nowhere to be found, along with Piyomon and Gatomon, so those three probably went gossiping somewhere, away from their drunk human partners. Taichi can relate to them. Koromon's away in Shin's room, hopefully asleep, as he ate and drank all food and drinks possible, even some sake when Sora and Taichi had to leave apartment to get additional overpriced food streets away, in the heart of New Year's festival. Koushiro found it fascinating, as this was going overboard even for the little pink Digimon, but Taichi told him to play with Koromon in the morning, if he feels like it.
Currently, Taichi isn't feeling it.
"You should call him."
Taichi looks up, noticing Ken with both Minomon and DemiVeemon in one arm, a glass of something that looks like champagne in another. For some reason Ken showed up to the party in a tuxedo, and now whenever he walks around, he reminds Taichi of that one western spy, James Bond.
"Call who?" Taichi tries to play cool, ignoring Ken's squinting and not unlikely judgemental glare. He knows who. Doesn't mean he has to act like he did.
"You know who," Ken explains neither less vague. Taichi finally looks up at the younger man, noticing strange movements of muscles on Ken's face. Weird. And why does Ken care so much right now? "His concert probably finished by now, you should call him."
Taichi glares. Noup. He refuses to. Ken glares back. He's too drunk for a staring contest with a living being, so he moves onto next best thing, floor. Floor doesn't judge him and floor doesn't want him to call anybody.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ken-kun," he keeps playing dumb, as it the only way he could survive countdown. Countdown to zero, as the number of lovers he has now. Nobody.
He hears a sigh, which is surprising, considering Miyako turned some old western rock on after the clock struck midnight, and not everything can be heard now.
Shadow appears on the floor and a warm body plops next to him. Taichi groans. Ken, no way less but gracefully, sits with his legs crossed on the pristine floor, maneuvering asleep Digimon in his lap, and the glass full of liquid on the hardwood between them. It's a sight to see, Taichi's gotta give it to him. Ken's alway been impressive. No wonder Taichi's now listening to him, one drink away from passing out. He's really a mess. No wonder he got dumped.
"Taichi-senpai, listen to me."
And he does.
Ken, noticing he is being listened to, continues. "Two days ago we all almost died. Thankfully we didn't, because thanks to you and Yamato-senpai, Omegamon and Imperialdramon joined forces and saved us all." He scratches first blue and then green Digimon at the mention of their jogressed form. "It made me realise how close I was to losing them. How lucky I am to have them. But they saved me again. They really are my miracles," he admits, scratching Minomon, gazing somewhere in his memories. Taichi knows that expression. It's too painful to remember, though.
Ken's white tuxedo has stains all over it, he suddenly realises. Light stains, dark stains, even green stains from wasabi snacks Koromon gobbled in a moment. What a cutie. Cute glutton and—
"So why are you here then, Taichi-senpai?"
What?
"I beg your pardon?"
DemiVeemon wiggles in Ken's lap at the sound that leaves his mouth. Taichi covers it with both hands. He doesn't want Daisuke giving him a lecture while he's still not sober.
"Why are you here? I can't stand when Daisuke and I fight, I wouldn't be able to stay here while my partner is hurting on the other side of town."
"We broke up. He had his plans for tonight, I had mine. I no longer need to know about his," Taichi recites, knowing by heart what he has to say, as Ken is definitely not the first person to ask him that today. Tonight. Yesterday. Whatever.
"But doesn't your heart hurt? Doesn't your Jogress bond weep for him? Your other part?"
Somewhere in the background, something starts buzzing. Minomon starts wiggling along with DemiVeemon in Ken's lap. Do these two do everything in sync?
Taichi makes a mistake of looking away from baby Digimons a second too late, and meets his junior's weird expression from before staring back at him. Uh no. It's Ken's worried face, if he recalls correctly.
"Why are you ignoring your bond," Ken wonders while still staring at him. Taichi knows he cannot answer him, not truthfully.
"Am not."
Lies.
His heart is alone. Moments created together, years in making, thrown down the drain in a second. Poetic irony.
Heart stomped on, shattered, ripped, broken, and then burned alive. It felt worse than dying. Something snapped inside him. Maybe that was the Jogress bond Ken was talking about. But even with the bond, Ken couldn't know how it felt. How it feels.
"You love him."
He does. But—
"It's not enough. Not anymore."
(As rock'n'roll music continues echoing through the rooms of Kidos' residence, humans and Digimons enjoying a new year, phone that's been ringing for several minutes, finally stops.
A blond figure on the other side of line dejectedly moves away from a payphone. New Year's celebration is in the background progressing full speed with traditional music and rainbow of fireworks. But the figure seems to hear nothing, standing soundless in the payphone booth.
Maybe next year.)