It had been 10 years but he couldn’t feel he missed home. At least, not yet, he thought. A Japanese new year’s card from his cousin who had signed for the Asano household was in his coat pocket. The handmade card with small, folded silver and gold cranes glued to the textured red background was simple – made by the old man who had raised him. The old man who had replaced his grandfather when the patriarch died.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and took the card out to look at it again. Sitting in a running car, parked at the police barricade that divided the boisterous New York crowd that had gathered at the Time Square – waiting for crystal the ball to drop, felt surreal. He was there but he felt distinctly out of place.

“You alright?”

Katsuya smiled reflexively and tucked the card back into his coat pocket.

“I’m fine.”

Krause pressed a hand over Katsuya’s and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

“Front row seat and in a warm car too. Stick with me baby, it's VIP all the way.”

“Yes, thank you for inviting me to watch the ball drop.”

“A few more minutes,” Krause said, lacing his fingers through Katsuya’s. “But you seem to be preoccupied with the letter from home. Things okay?”

“It is. Just the usual complaints. I’ve not been home in ten years.”

“There a reason why?”

“No,” Katsuya said. He looked away and up at the descending, brightly lit Waterford crystal ball. “No reason. I like it here.”

“You are supposed to say, “David, I like it here because you are here.””

“It would be a rather insincere thing to say if I say it now.”

The countdown started. It was thunderous. The ball was insidiously bright, closer to the base.

“I don’t mind white lies at all,” Krause said, hooking his arm around Katsuya’s neck and brought him close. “Happy new year…”

“But it’s not …”

The words were lost when Krause pressed his mouth over Katsuya’s. There were only incoherent chaos that erupted around them. Pops of the fireworks and shoutings were just overlapped noises all around.  Katsuya didn’t hear any of it, as he took the new year’s kiss. His first new year’s kiss.

“It’d be great if I can get away with breaking a few penal codes and follow up the kiss with something else…” Krause said, after he broke off the kiss and leaned back.

“I am not an exhibitionist.”

“It’ll be awhile before we can leave.”

Katsuya’s fingers tightened around Krause’s and he smiled brilliantly.

“It will be worth the wait,” he said. “Happy new year, David.”