Have a happy Thanksgiving, y'all!
Owen winced, touching his jaw tentatively. That damn cousin of his had managed to dislocate his jaw and sprain his right wrist, which meant he wouldn't be able to efficiently take notes or do the scheduled dissection when he went back to Harvard. If he failed this quarter, Kuon had better be prepared for when he flew to Japan to give the actor a beating that would put his running tackle to shame. Let's see how happy pretty boy was after he had to film with broken bones, and bruises, Owen thought viciously.
Normally he would have already done that to the second offender, seeing as they weren't family, but he'd been raised better than to hit a woman, no matter how stupid or violent. It didn't hurt that she was moderately pretty, but the fact that she hovered around Kuon like some mother hen protecting her chick did. Seriously, the actor might have gotten a little cold from touching the snow, but Owen was the one sporting visible wounds, the bloody lip caused by the aforementioned actress. He just didn't get it. Girls were supposed to love doctors and victims, but this chick went straight for the attacker and fussed over that bastard. Life was so unfair.
Ren glanced in his cousin's direction and smiled a little at his small cousin's irate glare. It seemed his tackle had been somewhat justified, even though it seemed Kyouko's punch was more for her benefit than his. Not that he minded too much and it also made him a little wary of ticking her off. Those self-defense lessons the president had suggested were really paying off. Was the much older man ever wrong? Because the actor was certainly having his doubts and that was more than a little unnerving, especially since said man had seemed rather pleased with himself as he made sure no one made another go for the second year med student. Everyone one else was in the dining room enjoying their Thanksgiving meal while both of the bruised boys were treated and received the punishment of no dinner until they came up with something better. Ren was lucky Lory had been nominated supervisor and not allowed to suggest any ideas for the punishment. He shuddered at the thought of what the eccentric man would decide as a punishment.
"Done," Kyouko announced, snapping the first aid kit shut and sent Owen a mild glare since he had yet to be redeemed in her eyes. She held out the white plastic box to him, seeing as he was injured, but he just looked at it. She scowled at him, dumping it on the table beside the love seat he sat on. What idiot studying to be a doctor didn't treat their wounds? She knew his wrist was sprained by the way he gingerly used it, and his face was a little bruised from falling into rocks hidden under the snow. The man had also complained, very loudly, about how Ren had dislocated his jaw. Kyouko didn't blame her senpai even the littlest bit. She herself was tempted to do a little more than dislocate it and see if he could still complain then.
Owen looked at the white box for a long moment before cautiously opening it. He hadn't actually been watching what the actress had done with the first aid kit and wouldn't put it past either of those two crazies to somehow booby-trap it. He wrapped his wrist with gauze before breaking one of the instant ice peaks and gingerly pressing it against his jaw. It was still sore and talking hadn't been the best idea. He looked up as his mother, willowy and blonde, stepped into the parlor and knew he too was in trouble when she casted an all-encompassing, scolding look around the room. "Your punishment has been decided."
To say the least, neither Ren or Owen were pleased. It was one thing to shovel snow from the front and back steps, but the entire yard, in the few hours left of day light, together? At least, both Swan descendents thought with a wince as they glanced up at the top of the house, they didn't have to shovel snow off the roof. That job had been assigned to the budding actress and she made her displeasure know by dumping, dropping, or throwing snow at the unsuspecting targets below. And she was part of the reason clearing the snow off the front yard was taking much longer than necessary. Well, that and the fact it had starting snowing again.
Ren used the back of his luminescent yellow snow glove to brush snow, slush, and sweat off his brow, leaning against the handle of his long shovel. It had been years since he'd shoveled snow and he was definitely feeling the effects in his back and arms. He took a little comfort in the fact Owen wasn't fairing much better, seeing as he was taking a break face down in the snow. Ren had been awful tempted to shovel snow on top of his younger cousin, but had refrained, knowing the blonde would be more useful shoveling than buried under a foot or so of snow.
Just about to heave a shovel full of snow into the woods, Ren startled at a high pitched scream originating from the house. He turned to see a shadowy figure fall down the two story drop and land almost soundlessly beside east wall. His heart in his soles, the actor made leaps through the snow drifts but stop short upon hearing a shouted rant. It seemed Kyouko had had a soft landing while Owen's had been rather…flattening. Again.
"You idiot! Didn't Dad or Mom or Uncle Kuu or Aunt Julie tell you to tie a rope around your waist and anchor yourself to the chimney?" he demanded, sore from both being knocked down a second time and shoveling snow. "Geez, what are you? A baby? Of course the roof is slippery and covered in ice! It's freaking Montana! Do you expect to be pampered, princess? Like you are in Tokyo? Well, news flash, girly, this is the US of A, and you aren't shit here."
Ren expected Kyouko to punch the blonde out, slap him, or even burst into tear, not regard his cousin coldly, drawling, "Look who's talking. I didn't see you here early slaving in the kitchen like the rest of us, Ren, Maria and Mr. Takarada aside. During the beginning of dinner, you refuse to let me converse with anyone else because the almighty Owen Swan was seated next to me and wanted to drown me in meaningless, egotistical flattery. Who's the real princess here, Owen?" With that snappy retorted, the young woman spun on her heels and stomped through the snow to the ladder on the opposite side of the house. Poor Owen was left wordlessly gawking after the fiery actress. Ren didn't think even he could have come up with a retort after that.
Round two went to Kyouko as well.
"Come on, Owen," Ren said, sprinkling some snow in the younger man's hood, "if we don't finish soon, we'll just have to come back during the day and do it."
The college student grunted his agreement and picked up his discarded shovel. If they had to come back out, that bottomless pit he called an uncle would eat the last of his mom's pumpkin pie and that wouldn't do. He hadn't gotten any yet.
Kyouko fumed as she pushed and shoved snow over the edge of the roof. That arrogant bastard had dared to insinuate that she was spoiled! The nerve! She didn't have a spoiled bone in her body, unlike a certain musician who could use a few broken bones and other bruised anatomy. Darkly, the raven haired actress built a large snow ball, about the size of a large soccer ball, and punted it off the roof. She didn't wince until it struck her senpai, in the dead center of the head. She promptly stepped behind the chimney and ignored the sounds of an argument that drifted up from below. What Tsuruga-san didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.
...Right? Feeling a twang of guilt, she sent a silent pray to the gods that her normally kind senpai wouldn't reprimand Owen too harshly before she admitted to the mistake and asked for forgiveness. After she finished shoveling the roof and the two men finished the yard that is.
Finally clearing the last of the snow, she lumbered down the ladder and headed inside to stripe off her snow gear, take a long hot bath and go to bed. She'd apologize tomorrow if she remembered.
About half an hour later, the two men came in, freezing cold and only slightly more agreeable to showering and bathing in the same bathroom than being outside and still shoveling. The punishment was definitely apt, since none of the three were thinking of repeating the day's events.