Outside, a light rain began to patter against the windows of Anden’s apartment—a rare winter shower that would slick the roads but wouldn’t last long. Jirhuya pushed the remains of his dinner around the plate. “Please don’t be offended, but . . . I’d rather not go to the party.” His eyes met Anden’s, then dropped apologetically. “I’ve worked too hard making a name for myself to start being seen as the Kaul family’s charity case.”
Anden was taken aback. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“The only other Abukei there will be the janitors and waitstaff. How’re you going to introduce me? As your ‘friend’？ It’ll look like I was brought out to show off No Peak’s generosity.”
“That’s not true. I asked the Pillar if I could bring you. It was my idea, not his.” He hadn’t expected to meet resistance over something he’d thought would be a welcome thing and was offended that Jirhu would ascribe such superficial motives to his family. “You’re not the only one who stands out,” Anden countered. “I’m a mixed-blood orphan adopted by the Kaul family when I was a child. Does that also make me a charity case?”
Jirhu shook his head. “Your mother and uncles were famous jade warriors; you went to the Academy; you were raised by the Kauls. Even though you’re a doctor now, you’re still a Green Bone of the clan. That makes you more Kekonese than me, because no matter your skin color, green is what people see.” Jirhu stood from the table, taking his plate and dropping it loudly into the sink. “If you’re Abukei you can’t be green. So you can never be anything but Abukei.”
Anden hadn’t until now realized how much he’d been looking forward to showing up with Jirhuya in front of the whole clan, knowing that no one would have the audacity to tug their earlobes at him in the presence of the Pillar and the entire Kaul family. He’d always assumed that a partner who truly cared for him would be happy to be welcomed by his cousins. With a surge of hurt, he blurted, “I thought we were serious. This is a big No Peak event and I’d hoped you’d be there.”
Jirhu turned around, his hands clutching the edge of the counter behind him. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to owe anything to your family. Or for anyone to think I do.”
“Who doesn’t owe something to the clans?” Anden exclaimed. “Do you think the movie industry would be what it is, that you’d have the career you do now, if my sister-in-law hadn’t invested in Cinema Shore?”
“That’s my point. The clans are in everything. They make and break industries and companies and people. I’m already luckier than most Abukei.” Jirhuya’s father had died while diving for mine runoff, but he’d been raised by his mixed-blood mother and Kekonese grandfather, so he’d been given an education and advantages many Abukei did not have. Jirhu’s voice fell and he sounded uncommonly vulnerable. “I don’t want people saying it’s all because of No Peak, because I’m sleeping with you. Please, miyan, try to understand.”
Anden felt that he emphatically did not understand, and he opened his mouth to say so, but at that moment, there was a knock on the door. Anden and Jirhu paused their argument and looked at each other in surprise. They weren’t expecting anyone. The knock came again, harder this time, sounding desperate.
Anden opened the door and was surprised to see his nephew. The expression on his face was forlorn and distressed, and his hair was wet with rainwater that dripped into his eyes.
“Niko,” Anden exclaimed, pulling him inside. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
Niko rubbed the back of his sleeve over his wet face. “Uncle Anden, can I stay with you for a while?”
_______
Anden went to the Kaul house the following afternoon. The first person he saw was Jaya, loitering near the gate with two Academy classmates, skateboards tucked under their arms. “You might not want to talk to him right now,” she advised. Jaya normally had some quippy thing to say every time Anden saw her, so he knew it was a sign of how bad the situation was that his niece didn’t even crack a smile. “He’s in an awful mood.”
Anden went inside the house. The thick wooden door to the study was closed and behind it, Anden could hear the Pillar’s raised voice, and Lott Jin responding, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He went into the kitchen and opened the cabinet, taking out a glass and a bottle of hoji and pouring himself a fingerful of drink to strengthen his resolve. Standing at the patio door, he looked out into the courtyard and gardens and saw that on the lawn, a pile of concrete blocks had been smashed into chunks of rubble and left strewn about, some of them lying several feet away, having clearly been flung about in a rage.