"Beneath the Skin."

From Jo's Playlist: Touch by Sleeping at Last

TR: Self harm & hospitalization mentioned.

Jo collapsed on her bed face first, her sharp groan muffled by her pillow. She definitely failed the physics test that morning. Reading itl in Japanese was hard enough but she hardly grasped the actual concept. And though Kuroo had promised to help her over the weekend, he had gotten caught up with helping his teammates instead.

Accepting her defeat, she sat up and peeled off her uniform blazer. She glanced over at her window, squinting to see through the pane to Kuroo's. It was pitch black. To be expected, of course. He told her that he was going to be studying with the third-years for their college exams that were coming up soon. She almost asked about his decided college but caught her tongue. It would only make her more upset if he shut her out again.

The chasm that had yawned opened between them closed a fraction after her heart fiasco. But she noticed a difference in him.

Jo carefully removed her uniform and put on leggings and a sweater. She paused her folding, turning to face Kuroo's empty room across the alleyway.

Nothing. Not a hint of movement. Just pure, pitch black darkness.

She swallowed thickly. She picked at a thread on one of the pleats of her skirt. It wasn't supposed to hurt this much this early on, was it? Shaking her head, Jo hung her uniform up in her closet and turned off the light. Her mom was cooking soup for dinner and she wasn't about to miss out on helping.

"Would your parents be okay with some of the guys coming over in a few days?" Kuroo asked the next evening, lounging on her bed once again. A volleyball was in his hands and he bounced it off his fingertips.

Jo spun around in her chair, tapping her pencil to her lips. "Why?" She squinted at him, taking notice of the greasy shine that clung to his hair.

He gave the volleyball a bit of a longer toss. Jo followed it up with her eyes, wincing when it nearly touched the ceiling. "We need to study but don't want to be at the school. Kai and Yaku said their houses were off the table,"

"Can you not be at your house?" She asked, stretching her legs in front of her. The dark circles under his eyes had gotten worse, too.

He shook his head, giving the ball another toss. "Dad has to sleep during the day, he's on the night shift again,"

Jo pursed her lips. Why haven't I met your family? She wanted to ask, but didn't.

My ex texted me, she wanted to say, but the words died on her lips. She never replied to Matteo's text from Sunday. She didn't know what to say to something so raw and not meant for her. It was a mistake.

Kuroo set the ball again but it slipped from his fingers, falling behind him. His arms stretched behind his head, straining to catch the ball before it slammed against the wall and made her parents pop up the stairs. He caught it narrowly. However, in his successful effort his blue shirt had ridden up, exposing his torso. And though Jo wanted to admire her boyfriend's fine abdomen, her eyes found something that knocked the breath from her lungs.

Several thin lines snaked around his hips. Some here white and faded, others, however, were angry and new.

Please no. Her eyes stung with realization.

Kuroo glanced up at her, a bright grin on his face as he held up the ball in triumph. It fell when he saw her stricken face. Noticing his bunched up shirt, he immediately pulled it down, face darkening.

Jo pushed forward, crawling across the bed to him. Slowly, gently, she slipped her fingers under his shirt. Her fingers curled around a recent cut. Her eyes burned. "I won't ask why," she said, voice thick.

Kuroo shifted, pushing himself up. Jo's hand fell away to rest on his knee. A tear slipped from her eye and she quickly wiped it away. "I should go," he said stiffly.

But Jo didn't let him. Her fingers tightened around his knee, nails digging through the nylon of his track pants. "Tetsuro," she looked up at him and her heart shattered. His eyes widened and his mouth tightened.

He was in so much pain. And she never saw it.

She took a calming breath. She extended her arms, shifting so she straddled his legs and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I'm going to be here for you. I don't know why you hurt yourself," her voice broke and she cleared it roughly. He stiffened under her. "But I'm going to be here. And I'm listening if you need to talk,"

If it were possible, Kuroo's eyes widened even more. They shimmered, as though he wanted to cry but couldn't. So Jo let her own tears fall for them. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close as she leaned her forehead on his.

"Thank you," was all he said. It was all he needed to say.

Words tumbled and tossed inside Jo's mind, dancing on her tongue and sticking to her dry throat. Why? What drove you to this? I understand. Please stop. But she bit them back, refusing to let them escape into the silent air. They would only do more harm than good. It felt as though her chest had been ripped apart by the ribs. Her hands shook as she clutched his shirt collar.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said into his shoulder, voice thick from her tears. She sniffed, trying to not let snot get on his shirt again. "And I'm only crying because I care for you so much, okay?"

He nodded mutely. His fingers went slack against her waist and it only made her hold on tighter.

And suddenly, Jo was fourteen again. She was holding James' hand in a brightly lit hospital room in Spain while the nurses bustled around his bed and the doctor spoke to her parents quietly in the corner. She couldn't forget the image of her mother's tear stained cheeks or the hard set of her father's jaw. She could never forget the paleness of her brother's face. Of how gaunt his skin had become.

And they hadn't noticed. Not until it was almost too late.

Fear twisted at Jo's bones. Her instinct was to hold on as tightly as she could. And though her fingers tangled in his greasy hair and gripped the base of his neck, she promised herself to not overwater the tender plant their relationship had become.

She could not drown him.

"They can come over, I don't think Mom and Dad will mind," she said suddenly.

His eyes slid open. "What?"

"The boys," she replied, knowing full well how flushed her cheeks were. A clump of hair stuck to her temple from the tears. "I don't think Mom and Dad will mind,"

A sad, somber smile pulled at his lips. A look she had never seen him give anyone. He brushed the hair behind her ear. "Thank you," he said softly.

Without a second thought, Jo pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Of course."

Heat bloomed across the base of her neck and his cheekbones flushed slightly. It was silly and juvenile but–

That was the first time she had kissed him.

Jo had kissed plenty of boys in Italy. But with Kuroo it felt different. It was softer and kinder. Like a gentle spring morning than the rush of summer in her chest.

She adored the feeling of blooming flowers in her chest.

Hesitantly, as though he were talking himself into it, Kuroo pressed a chaste kiss to her nose. Jo smiled, leaning forward, pressing herself into his chest heavily so he fell on his back with his arms wrapped tightly around her.

The spring night hummed on and though the dynamic had shifted between them, that was okay. The phantom weight that pulled his shoulders down seemed to have lifted a fraction. And though Jo was aching to know why she could wait. In his own time, if he wanted to, he would tell her.

Her father had raised an observant child. Her mother taught her to be kind. And James, her sweet brother, nurtured that so well before she had left for Italy.

And though she felt the familiar scars opening in her chest cavity again, she promised herself to remain steady. To not change how she viewed him.

To let him be, as he left her house with an odd look in his eye.

AN: Depression and other mental disorders are not glamorous. As someone who has dealt with things mentioned in this story, I want to encourage you all. You are loved. You are valued. You are needed. Even if right now makes you question that, there will be a you in the future who was glad you made it.

Please seek professional help if needed–it's not fun and it hurts, but my goodness it can help.

This is a story to remind you of that–that you can make it.

With much love in my heart,

R.