Chapter Three

Turkey Bacon and Eggs and Coffee: Welcome to the Family

From Jo's Playlist: Chocolate by The 1975

Jo was rudely shaken awake in the gray hours of the morning by the firm hand of her father. His large dark silhouette filled her bleary vision as he shook her shoulder again gently.

"Come on, it's time to run," he said lowly to not wake her mother.

Jo groaned and rolled over, pulling her covers over her head. "Just a few more minutes," she mumbled, voice thick from sleep. Her father sighed in frustration.

"It's already four forty. Time to get up." He quietly shuffled out of the room, leaving the door wide open to let the hallway light slice through her eyelids.

Jo took a few steady breaths. Allowing herself to remember the warmth of her heavy covers and the softness of her mattress as it caressed her tired body, she convinced herself it was time to move.

Shivering from the morning chill that had seeped into her room, Jo fumbled around in the dark. With movements that would put a sloth to shame, she slipped on her black adidas training pants and loose fitting shirt. She blinked the sticky sleep from her eyes and rubbed at them with the back of her hand as she grabbed her phone and earbuds.

Jo slipped down the steep, narrow stairs as quietly as she could. Truly, the most terrifying thing about their move was how ungodly steep the stairs in the house were. On their first day after the move she had almost bit the ledge several times while going up. Now she was careful to grip the rail and move slowly lest she might lose a tooth.

Her father greeted her in the dimly lit kitchen with soft plucking guitar music floating through the mini speaker on the counter. He placed a plate of sliced banana and a small white bowl of raisins on the bar.

Jo slid onto the barstool, scowling at the healthy food. "Do we have to run today?" She asked, poking at a banana slice with her fork.

Her father poured them glasses of lukewarm water. "You got away with not running all last semester. You know the doctor said you need to for your heart,"

Jo stabbed at the poor banana slice, chewing it slowly. He was right of course, as usual. Her heart palpitations had started to come back toward their last month in Italy and her father was serious about getting her tachycardia under control.

They ate their breakfast in silence. The soft instrumental guitar was the only source of sound. It fell across the room like a soft blanket, soothing the irritation from Jo's muscles and waking her up gently.

Placing their dishes in the sink and slipping on their shoes, Jo and her father slipped out of the house and into the light gray morning.

Jo shivered against the chill that rushed against her arms and rubbed her arms up and down her biceps. She met her father outside their gate, putting her earbuds in and finding a playlist that would get her ready for the jog that would surely wreck her.

After she stretched her calves and rotated her legs, she turned to look down the street and froze.

The gate that led to Kuroo's home opened and the boy closed it behind him quietly. He wore black shorts and a matching black running jacket with one earbud in his left ear. He glanced over and saw her and her father (who was setting up a route on a map app) and inclined his head. "Beautiful morning, isn't it?"

Jo grimaced. "I would rather be in my bed." Mornings were more of an annoyance to Jo. She would rather stay up to watch the sunrise, not wake for it.

Jo's father looked up at the sound of their voices. His face hardened. "Goodmorning," he said, eyes bouncing from Kuroo to Jo.

"Dad, this is Tetsuro Kuroo. A classmate of mine," Jo said. The creases in his forehead smoothed ever so slightly.

Kuroo, to his credit, bowed respectfully. "A pleasure to meet you," a smile on his face when he straightened.

Jo's father took a moment to analyze the grinning boy in front of them. She looked over his arm and tapped at his phone to pull him out of the corners of his mind. "Ready to run?" she asked. He was studying Kuroo as though he were plotting his execution.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he grunted. "We'll start off easy this morning." He clicked off his phone and put his own earbud in. "Have a good run, Tetsuro,"

In the growing light, Jo saw a spark light behind Kuroo's eyes. "Thank you, sir. I'll see you at school, Jo."

Jo nodded. "I promise I'll look more alive," she said as they crossed paths.

She heard him laugh softly (she preferred the low rumble to the sharp bark) and couldn't help the little grin from pulling at her lips.

The run was not easy.

Jo knew her father was intense, but she forgot just how seriously he took his workouts. The two mile jog turned into a four miles. Two of which were uphill.

On mile three she promptly left what little food she had in her stomach on the side of the road in some pretty flower bushes.

Needless to say, Jo looked and felt like death when she followed her father back to their house. Sweat clung to the nape of her neck and the bitter taste of bile stung the back of her throat.

She hoped Kuroo was still out for his run. Thankfully they didn't cross paths while jogging. She would have been mortified if he saw her hurl her banana and raisins on those flowers.

"Make sure you stretch your calves out," her father said as he pushed the little gate open. "I'll get a light meal going, does an egg sound okay?"

Jo jammed the ball of her foot on the waist high brick wall, pulling the muscles long. They burned, but it had to be done. A few ice packs on her shins were in her future.

She closed her eyes and folded at her waste, focusing on the gentle thrum of her music instead of the pain in her chest and the rolling of her stomach. She had almost completely cooled down when the slap slap of shoes against concrete danced through the music.

Jo straightened just in time to see Kuroo steadily jogging down the street. The sky had gradually turned a dusted pink and gold. Soft rays fell across the buildings and sidewalk, caressing the harsh lines of the darkness away.

His black hair clung to his sweaty forehead and his shirt was damp. His gait was steady as he slowed when he neared his gait. His chest rose and fell quickly.

Jo studied him and he returned the favor with his own curious once over. She was aware of how gross she must look but he looked equally as disgusting so she didn't care.

He tilted his head to the side, a grin breaking out on his face. "Good run?"

Jo felt as though he knew she had thrown up on the side of the road. She self consciously rubbed the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand and took out an earbud. "I guess you could say that. It's been a long time since I've ran that far." She propped her other foot in the crevice of the wall and leaned. The inside of her thigh burned. "How was yours?"

He pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen. "Not too bad. How far did you go?"

"Four miles," she braced her forearm on the rough wall.

He whistled lowly. "That's a long one,"

She shrugged her shoulders. She wasn't about to tell them that she complained the whole time and she thought her heart was going to burst from her chest after mile one. "And you?"

"Five," he pulled his knee up to his chest, wrapping his arms around the shin.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Intelligent, attractive, and athletic. She had nothing against him, but that did grind on her nerves. However, he seemed kind. And that was enough for her to not mind the rest.

They stretched in silence. It was only seven and the sun was already breaking the skyline, spilling its golden light across the neighborhood. She wondered which of her parents would take her to school today. She was ready to go to school by herself but was still uncertain about finding her way on her own and understood why one of them wanted to walk her there.

Jo stretched her arms above her head, marking the end of her cool down. "I'll see you in class," she said, opening the gate

"Hey," Kuroo said. She paused, glancing at him. His fingers drummed the side of his leg. "Would you want to go with Kenma and I?"

She thought about it. Going with them meant she could leave a tad later, giving her time to wash her hair. And then she could gain some form of independence. But would her parents allow her to go with two boys she just met?

As if sensing her hesitancy, Kuroo said with a wave of his hand, "If your parents are okay with it, of course. I get that it's kind of weird,"

Jo really wanted that independance. "Let me ask them really fast. Give me five minutes?" He nodded and she rushed up the pathway.

The house was pleasantly warm as she entered, slipping off her shoes. The bitter smell of coffee wafted from the kitchen. "Dad?" she called out. She poked her head in the kitchen, seeing him rummaging through the fridge. "Dad,"

"Yeah?" he asked, a carton of eggs in his hand.

"Kuroo offered to walk me to school today. Is that okay?" She leaned her shoulder on the doorframe.

He pulled out a skillet and sliced a sliver of butter to grease it. "Kuroo?"

She sighed in frustration. He enjoyed forgetting people's names who he established as not important, knowing it grated on her nerves. "The boy who we met before our jog,"

"Ah yes. He needs to cut that hair," he cracked an egg. It sizzled in the hot pan. He opened the fridge again, finding a red pepper to slice.

"Dad," she said again. "Please? I feel like it'll help me learn my way faster." She was growing frustrated and he knew it.

He pulled out a thick knife from the block, inspecting it. He brushed the pad of his thumb across the ridge, testing the sharpness. "If you give me his phone number, sure." He pulled out a cutting board.

"His phone number?"

"Just to be safe," he slid the knife down the side of the bell pepper, cutting it in half. He sliced the half into thin slivers.

Jo couldn't be frustrated with him for that. Moving around so often forced her to be painfully aware of the dangers of the world outside the safe bubble of her family. Terrible things could happen to anyone at any time, she wasn't special and was likely to become a statistic. And though it made her shoulders shake with anger and her throat burn with frustration, she understood. She wasn't small and helpless, but she was still a woman. And it was a heavy truth she lived with.

Jo poked her head outside. Kuroo stood at the gate, typing on his phone. He looked up at the sound of the door opening and she waved him over.

"Can my dad have your cell number?" she asked. "He's rather protective," she grinned sheepishly, feeling the need to explain.

Kuroo had put his hands in his shorts pockets. "Of course, no problem," he said, pulling his phone out.

They exchanged numbers and she paused before ducking back inside. Her mother would insist meeting him as well to officially seize him up. Seeing him through Jo's window would not suffice. She could invite him inside but that felt far too formal. He was just a friendly neighbor who happened to be a classmate. She met the poor boy yesterday, she couldn't subject him to a den of lions.

Her mother's voice rang out from behind her. "Either step outside or invite the boy in,"

Jo flinched. Kuroo grinned. "Would you like to come in?" she offered.

Kuroo began to shake his head when her father's voice echoed from the kitchen. "Jo, invite him in for breakfast,"

Jo offered him an apologetic look. "You can say no." His easy grin had slipped and his shoulders tensed.

But before he could refuse (she saw it written plainly in his eyes), her mother appeared at her shoulder. "Tetsuro, please come eat with us. Consider it payment for babysitting Josephine," she smiled widely

"Mom," Jo hissed, mortified. She wished she had ignored Kuroo that morning, maybe then she wouldn't be embarrassed beyond belief.

The brightness in his smile was forced. It didn't quite meet his hazel eyes, but he said, "Well, if you insist,"

"Perfect," her mother beamed.

Kuroo followed Jo inside, slipping his shoes off beside hers. He shifted on his feet uncertainly. She brushed his arm with her hand. "I promise they won't eat you alive. It'll only take like, twenty minutes,"

That seemed to relax him a fraction. For someone who seemed so nonchalant at school, he was rather nervous. Very much like a cat in a different territory.

The house smelled divine as she led him to the kitchen. The smokey scent of turkey bacon intertwined with the eggs and coffee brewing in the large French press.

The windows were open to let in the golden rays of the morning light wash over the wooden floor. Jo's mother was crouched by the windowsill watering the vine plants and her father stabbed at the sizzling bacon.

A different playlist was on shuffle. It was more upbeat with soft vocals singing along with the guitar strumming. Music was always played in the Olsen home. Not once was the house ever silent. Life sprung from every corner of the home, no matter where they laid their roots for the time. No crack could be barren.

"What would you like to drink?" Jo asked, moving the cupboard.

"Water, please," his eyes roamed the bright kitchen and he leaned his arms on the bar that sat in the middle of the room.

He appeared to be extremely tense. His shoulders were taught and his fingers drummed on the granite but his face was completely relaxed.

Jo's father turned from his spot at the stove, flipping the bacon on a plate. "I hope you like bacon and eggs," he said.

Kuroo nodded, taking the glass from Jo's hands. "That sounds really good. Thank you, for inviting me for breakfast,"

Jo's mother glided to the bar, a spray bottle in hand. "I hope we aren't stealing you from your family. I should have had you tell your mother where you were." She barely came up to Kuroo's shoulder. Her deep brown hair was swept back in a low ponytail and she wore slacks with a black button down shirt tucked in. She must be working in the hospital today.

Kuroo shook his head, meeting her mother's steady gaze. "My dad works night shifts for the police force. He's always asleep at this time." Jo caught a slight tone change. It was somehow...mournful.

Jo's mother moved to the French press. She pushed down and pulled out their respective mugs. "Would you like coffee?" she tilted her head back to catch his eye.

He nodded. "Thank you," he said when she handed him a full mug.

"Milk?" Jo asked, fixing her own. A dash of creamer, milk, and cinnamon swirled in her mug. When he extended his mug she poured a glomp, watching it swirl from black to a light brown.

A moment later, the table was set and the music was changed yet again, this time to a happy swing playlist.

Kuroo and Jo sat on opposite sides of the circular table, while her parents sat at what they deemed the heads.

Muscle memory took over and Jo grasped her parents' hands, her elbows on either side of her round breakfast plate. Kuroo hesitated. Her mother, noticing the uncertainty at the action, quickly interceded. "You don't have to participate, it's just a little thing we always do at meals together,"

Kuroo grasped her parents' outstretched hands. "I don't mind at all," he said, with a soft smile on his face.

Jo's mother gave her father a knowing smile and something melted in Jo's chest. The action was small, and she didn't even know the boy, but the fact that he didn't back down meant so much more than he would ever fathom.

They bowed their heads and Jo's father said a short prayer in his loud, confident voice that demanded attention. Jo peaked through her eyelashes at Kuroo. He was staring at the bowl of eggs on the table, a strange look behind his eyes and face oddly blank.

Whatever thoughts that clouded his mind dissipated when her father closed the prayer in a firm amen, and the easy smile returned. Silverware clinked softly and mugs were grasped as the breakfast began.

"Tell me, Tetsuro," Jo's mother said, taking a sip of coffee. "What does your mother do?"

He stabbed at his eggs and Jo caught a painful flash behind his eyes. "She was an accountant. She passed away when I was very little,"

Her mother's movements faltered and Jo took a quick sip of her own coffee to hide the sympathy on her face. "I'm so sorry to hear that," her deep eyes were full of sorrow.

He huffed a soft laugh. "It was a long time ago. My grandparents make up for the space,"

"They live with you?" Jo asked. She would go absolutely insane if any of her grandparents lived with them. Both sides were equally loud and wild as the other.

"Sure do. There's never a dull moment," he said. But Jo had a feeling it was quite the opposite.

They drifted into polite conversation and the rest of the meal flew by. Jo caught the flickers of uncertainty and something else behind his eyes. His smile was lesser than when they were outside. His broad shoulders were somehow smaller, making his large frame small.

When Jo's mother ushered them out so he could get ready for school, she smiled apologetically. "Thank you for tolerating that,"

He pushed his hands in his pockets. His hair fell into his eyes, flat from drying on his scalp. "I enjoyed the meal. Your father's a wonderful cook,"

Jo caught another odd undertone to his words. "You're always welcome to come over for dinner. Mom will probably drag you at some point,"

"I would enjoy that," he said. "Text me when you're ready."

Kuroo was an anomaly Jo found herself fascinated with. He held himself so stiffly in her family home but all tension had vanished from his face and shoulders when she met him at her gate with Kenma by his side a few minutes later. He barked sharp bits of laughter with his friend and crossed his arms lazily over his chest, speaking easily with Jo and Kenma.

He held conversation effortlessly with his classmates before the first bell chimed, a stark contrast to the uncertain small talk he made with her parents.

Here, under the bright fluorescent lights and the droning of the teacher, he seemed alive. With a pencil in hand and notebook folded open neatly, there was a spark of light behind his eyes. A pull to his spine that wasn't there before.

Jo tapped her pencil eraser on her bottom lip. An anomaly indeed.

AN: Please tell me what you think! All types of reviews are very welcome. Thank you so much to those who have reviewed, you guys rock :)

In light of recent world events, I'll keep my personal commentary to nearly zero as I want this story to be a means to escape reality. In the words of my lovely biochemistry professor, "Be kind. Do some good in the world today."