Part 1
Sumire Hara
Look Into the Mirror at Yourself
…
Put your make-up on
Get your nails done
Curl your hair
Run the extra mile
Keep it slim so they like you, do they like you?
…
Hara is not beautiful.
She knows this. She knows this, so stop telling her.
Hara looks into the mirror and she sees hideousness. She has everything that Vogue says is ugly. Small eyes, flat chest, dry hair, and fat. Oh goodness, so much fat.
She's what nice people would call 'cuddly'. But Hara sees something else. She knows that hanging around skinny people like Fuwa and Nakamura makes her look even fatter than she already is.
She envies Megu Kataoka, the prettiest girl in school. Kataoka is everything Hara wants to be - slim, tall, curvy, beautiful.
Hara wants to fit in. She wants to be liked. She wants people to treat her like Kataoka. Kataoka's lucky. Kataoka was born to be radiant. Hara was born to a laughingstock. She doesn't want that.
Hara has very few advantages. For one, she's good at makeup. She'd been experimenting with her mother's old stuff when she was a kid, rooting in medicine cabinets, locked in the bathroom by herself. Eight-year-old Hara had looked into the drawers, astounded by the sheer number of beauty products in there. Stacks of eyeshadow palettes; rows of glossy and glittery lipsticks and lipglosses in shades of red and pink; a pouch filled with sticks of dark mascara, eyeliner, and eyebrow pencils; and piles of foundation encased in silvery bottles.
That stash of expensive makeup?
It's nothing compared to the supply that Hara has now.
Her wooden vanity is stacked full of beauty products. Every morning, even on weekends, she wakes up early to do her makeup. Her face is ugly. She knows that. So makeup is her good friend.
Mascara makes her eyes look bigger. Bronzer shapes her flabby cheeks. Eyebrow pencils for her all-over-the-place eyebrows. Each stick of makeup a mini fairy godmother. It transforms her.
Hara looks into the mirror and she sees a different person. She looks pretty. Not just pretty - beautiful. She doesn't look like Hara, but Hara's ugly, so that's fine. It's fine not to be herself. It's fine to be a stranger, especially if it's a pretty stranger.
On weekends, Hara goes for a run.
She's fat. She's so fat. She can't show up to school like this, all fat and chubby.
She hates runs. It's not good for her asthma. It makes her sick. It makes her tired, so tired.
But it's fine. It doesn't matter. She needs to be pretty. She needs to be skinny.
The girls at her high school are pretty. They're fit, muscular, skinny.
Skinny.
Skinny.
Hara puts on her jogging shoes and runs.
The wind tears at her lungs. She takes big, gulping breaths. In, out, in, out. She checks her asthma puffer. It's in her pocket. Good. Her feet pound on her pavement and she keeps running.
Running makes Hara feel like she's trying to run away. From home. From school. From her problems.
It's a nice feeling, but she knows she'll never get away. She'll never find the freedom.
Suddenly, her throat tightens. Her breathing gets laboured; it gets painful.
Hara's fingers clench over her inhaler and she puts it in her mouth, taking deep breaths.
As she stands there, fighting for oxygen, using her inhaler, Hara sees two girls behind her. She recongises them: Megu Kataoka and Manami Okuda. They run together. Kataoka's faster. Okuda tries to catch up. They're both skinny.
For a second, Okuda looks to Hara. Her expression is unreadable, but soon she jogs away.
Hara's attack gradually calms. She stares after the two girls. Running. Fast. Skinny. Fit.
She has a long way to go.
It hurts. Everywhere.
But Hara doesn't stop. She stuffs her puffer in her pocket and keeps running.
—
She has salad for lunch with low-fat yoghurt and water.
Her mother cooks pizza, but Hara ignores the inticing smell and fixes her concentration on her salad leaves. She's fine eating this little, really. Her stomach's still rumbling after she finishes, but she fights back the hunger.
As soon as she gets upstairs, Hara goes to the bathroom and weighs herself on the scales. She frowns at the numbers displayed on the tiny screen.
She closes the door and strips down to her underwear, and tries again. Still seventy kilos. Oh, no.
She's so fat.
She sighs, loud and long, and puts on her clothes again. She wonders if she can skip dinner. Her mother's going out tonight, so she'll never know.
Hara climbs onto the treadmill in her room, switches it on, and starts to walk while she goes on her phone, looking for websites that could help her with losing weight.
She thinks back to seeing Kataoka and Okuda earlier today. They're both beautiful and well-liked. Kataoka's hair is straight, like Hara's, but Hara thinks she prefers Okuda's glossy dark curls. She doesn't know if Okuda's curls are natural, but everyone fawns over them. So Hara needs to curl her hair too.
An hour passes. Hara's beat, but she's careful not to sit down. Instead, she stands in front of the bathroom mirror and looks at herself again. She pinches her stomach. She pokes her cheeks.
Hara takes out a curling wand from inside the cabinet. She imagines how she'd look like curly hair. Maybe like Kurahashi.
She plugs in the curling wand, brushes her hair, and gets to work.
—
"Wow, I like your hair, Hara," Nakamura comments when Hara turns up to school the next morning.
Hara smiles demurely. "Thanks." She'd curled it, and it did look a bit like Kurahashi's.
Some people compliment her throughout the day. Hara feels special now.
Lunch is more salad and yoghurt. Hara sits by herself at one side of the cafeteria, reading a book on calories.
She blinks, trying to concentrate on the words in front of her.
The letters are blurring black blobs in her eyes. Hara frowns. She hopes she doesn't need glasses. No one has glasses at this school, except for Takebayashi, who's a weird otaku that no one likes.
She sets down her book, tired of reading, and eats her salad slowly. Unsalted, no sauce. Only vegetables and grains and seeds and freshly squeezed lemon juice.
Hara looks after to the table that seats the 'Populars'. Everyone who's popular is good-looking. Kataoka's gorgeous. Kurahashi and Okuda are cute.
Come to think of it, Okuda is beginning to look oddly familiar. Like that bespectacled, short girl that Hara bumped into in the bookstore the other day.
Hara shakes her head. No way. Okuda doesn't have glasses, and her hair is always curly and let down. The mysterious chemistry geek Hara saw in the science aisle had twin braids. And she looked…too average.
Hara notices that Kurahashi has her nails done, and is showing them to Kataoka, who nods approvingly.
She looks down at her own short, cracked nails. She'll need to give them a makeover too.
The bell signalling the end of lunch rings. Hara realises that she hasn't eaten much. She throws the remains of her salad in the bin, and clutches her book to her chest as she goes back to her locker.
She's still hungry, and she drinks water to fill up her stomach for the timebeing.
Hara writes down a quick reminder to get her nails done on a post-it note, and sticks it on her phone case.
—
Hara admires her new nails while walking on her treadmill, drinking water. They're all a yellowy-teal ombre, glittering with mini rhinestones. She knows that Nakamura would like it.
She keeps walking, feet tired. Hara's learnt to keep her sitting down minimal. She exercises three times a day now - running in the morning, treadmill after lunch, skipping after dinner. She stretches too, and does some yoga.
With all her excercising and homework, she hardly has time to eat. But that doesn't matter. In fact, that's good news. She fills herself up on water - healthy and harmless.
She blinks, and out of the blue, her head starts spinning. She fights through the dizziness and keeps walking, drinking water to silence her rumbling stomach.
The spinning of her head stops after a few minutes, and she wonders if she's gotten a cold.
She steps off the treadmill and drinks more water, then walks downstairs to fill up her water bottle.
Hara goes into the bathroom and weighs herself.
She's lost half a kilo, which isn't bad. She smiles a little, almost having forgotten what it feels like to be proud.
Still, half a kilo isn't heaps. Maybe she should start having before-school runs.
—
Hara knows that there's no way Nakamura or Fuwa could possibly tell she's lost weight, but she still wishes someone could acknowledge it.
She needs to get thinner. Fitter. Better.
At lunch, she sits down again at her regular spot. Her stomach grumbles, but she only packed a little salad. She picks up her water bottle and drinks until she feels full enough - a temporary illusion. Then she throws her salad in the bin, and sits down to read her book on getting fit.
The more she looks at the words, the dizzier she feels. She has the slight sensation of nausea, like she wants to throw up, even though she hasn't eaten.
She sets the book down. Rubs her eyes. Uses her inhaler. Looks at the ceiling. She feels a little better, so maybe it was just a random asthma attack.
Hara goes to the bathroom and splashes her face. She wipes off her makeup with toilet paper before ducking into a stall and reapplying it - she has heaps of makeup and a compact mirror inside her lunch bag.
She looks into the compact mirror at herself. The makeup covers up most of her ugliness. She tries a smile. She looks nice.
Hara walks out of the stall, washes her hands, and re-ties her curled brown hair. Her hands tighten around her book. She stares at the cover, but looking at the skinny woman makes her dizzy again.
She breathes in. She breathes out.
It's fine.
It's fine.
Hara exits the bathroom and heads to her next class, praying her head will stop swimming by the time she gets there.
—
Over the next few weeks, Hara runs more, skips more, walks more, diets more. She doesn't eat much, only breakfast and maybe a salad for lunch. She applies her makeup, trying out new looks. She likes her natural-looking makeup the best. She curls her hair again after it starts to flatten.
Hara had joined a strength and conditioning club during lunch, twice a week. The running makes her feel faint and tired, but she hopes it's working. She hopes she'll be thin, like Kataoka and Okuda and Kurahashi.
She chugs more water as she works on her homework. She wipes off her makeup and reapplies it. She looks in front of the mirror. She exercises, and she weighs herself.
Hara feels a bit more satisfied, but her dizziness and hunger can't be easily ignored.
But she can't eat. She just can't. How many calories are there in a beef casserole? How much fat in pasta? How much sugar in a muesli bar? She sticks to salad and grainy cereals.
Hara weighs herself again. She's lost three kilos. She steps off the scales and looks at herself in front of the mirror.
She's…skinnier.
But she's still ugly.
Hara rubs off her makeup again. Do the cosmetics really make a difference?
It should. It does.
She tries changing some details. More mascara. More bronzer. Less lipstick. Less blush. No eyeliner.
It doesn't look great.
Hara isn't one to cry. But she can't help wiping away her tears.
Her ugliness just doesn't go away. She hates it. She wants to be naturally pretty. Beautiful and elegant like Kataoka. Demurely gorgeous, like Okuda. Bubbly and adorable, like Kurahashi.
But she's not.
She's just Hara.
Ugly, fat, Hara.
She goes back to her room. She turns on her treadmill and walks while she does her homework.
—
Hara sits by herself at lunch, as per usual. She's now lost four kilos. She's proud. But not proud enough.
She wants to read some books on cosmetics and dieting, but her head always spins whenever she looks at something for too long. It's tiring and painful. She doesn't like it.
Hara didn't pack lunch today. She only drinks water from her two-litre bottle, staring at the ceiling.
"Hey." Someone taps her shoulder.
It's Okuda, with Kataoka and Kurahashi in tow.
"Okuda?" Hara questions. "Hey there." She's almost in awe to be within a few metres of the three most popular girls.
"Do you mind if we sit with you?" Okuda asks. She doesn't sound…popular. She sounds awkward. And shy. And tired.
Hara shakes her head. "Of course not! Please do!"
Kataoka smiles in thanks and takes a seat, along with Okuda and Kurahashi.
Hara has no idea why they want to sit next to her, but it makes her feel special.
"You've lost a lot of weight lately," Kataoka begins. "I wish I could lose some more weight too."
Hara's eyebrows furrow. "But you're so skinny. I…" she pauses. "I wanted to be like you. That's why I started going out for runs and joining fitness clubs and stuff."
Kataoka looks flattered, but she looks away, seemingly upset. "Thanks, but I'm really not that pretty."
The table falls into uncomfortable silence. Kurahashi smiles brightly and changes the topic.
"Hey, Hara, I see you curled your hair! Now it looks like mine!" she smiles, pointing at her orange curls. "It looks very cute on you. Curly hair's the best. Right, Okuda?"
Okuda nods, smiling politely. "Of course." Her perfect curls bob along with her nodding.
"Say, Hara," Kurahashi starts, bright smile still on her face. "Have you ever considered plastic surgery?"
Hara's heart drops at the single comment. "What?"
Kurahashi looks confused. "I mean, you don't have the best looking—"
Kataoka slaps Kurahashi on the shoulder. "Hashi, that's a terrible thing to say," she hisses.
Hara can't think. Can't think, can't breathe, can't understand. She feels like she's suddenly out of her body, and everywhere feels numb. She wants to cry but she doesn't have the energy.
Okuda's worried face leans in. "Hara? Do you need tissues?"
Hara shakes her head and stands up, trying to breathe steadily. She feels so pathetic, so stupid, crying over something so trivial. She keeps her head down and starts walking to the bathroom, breathing in, breathing out. In. Out. In. Out.
She runs inside the first stall she sees. She starts scrubbing off her makeup as fast as she can, too fast, not fast enough. She's rubbing her skin raw. She checks her mirror. She looks so stupid. And so…
So ugly.
"I'm ugly," she says aloud to herself, and it's the first time she's really said it, really felt it.
She sits down on the toilet seat and cries until she can't anymore.
Then she applies more makeup than she's ever put on before, takes a deep breath, and heads to her next class.
Her head is spinning.
—
Hara doesn't want to look in the mirror ever again for the next few days. She just can't.
Whenever she does, Kurahashi's voice echoes through her head. That seemingly innocent question that tore the tiny portion of Hara's self-esteem left to shreds.
She starts excercising even more. There's hardly a time of day she isn't on the treadmill. She reads and does homework on it. She drinks water all day, every day. She eats only breakfast and lunch only on days she has the energy too.
Her energy is drained.
She's so tired. Too tired. She wants to sleep. But sleeping means lying down and lying down for too long means you'll get fat. Hara can't let all her hard work go to waste.
So instead, she tries distracting herself by reading more. Magazines and books alike.
But now, the words blur even more. Her dizziness comes and goes more often than ever. She sometimes trips over her own feet when she runs. It's harder to breathe. Her stomach hurts.
Her body is suffering. She's suffering.
She tells herself it's okay, but it's not.
One day, her body decides it's had enough.
Hara suddenly collapses as she's rooting through her locker, the last of her energy gone.
—
Hara wakes up to bright light and whiteness. She's in the nurse's office.
The only thing she can think about is her body weight. And how she's ugly. So ugly.
She wants to throw up. She wants to cry. She wants to die. She wants to feel pain.
She wants so many things.
She wanted so many things, and she never got any of them.
"Hara?"
She looks to her left. Kurahashi is sitting on a chair beside the bed. She holds a light pink envelope in her hand.
Hara doesn't trust herself to speak, so she forces a smile.
"I wanted to apologise for the things I said to you," Kurahashi says. She offers the envelope to Hara. "Here. It's an invitation to my birthday party. Bringing presents are optional." She smiles, the action wan and regretful.
Hara takes the envelope with a weak hand. She nods and closes her eyes. "Thanks," she croaks.
"Hara…" Kurahashi begins. "Are you…healthy?"
She's met with silence.
"I mean, you randomly passed out in the middle of the hallway - I wanted to see if you were alright. I—"
"I'm fine." Hara clears her throat. It burns. Her head throbs. "I need to get up, now. Can you tell the nurse I'm going?"
She pulls her up with some struggle. She feels tired and weak. But she mustn't lie down too long.
Kurahashi opens her mouth to say something, but she stops. Hara walks put of the door, fatigue pulling her down, slowing her steps. She wants to sit down. Instead, she goes to the nearest drink tap and starts drinking water. Then, she goes to her locker and gets out her lunch bag. She enters the girls' bathroom, splashes her face, washes off her makeup, and reapplies it.
Hara looks into the mirror at herself and she wants to cry again. She's so ugly.
She clutches the envelope. It's awfully generous of Kurahashi to offer to invite her to the latter's party.
Hara will go. She'll definitely go.
—
Hara arrives at Kurahashi's enormous, mansion-like house, hair curled, in a flattering dress and heels, makeup done perfectly. She brings a box of homemade swiss rolls. She hasn't baked in so long.
The door is wide open, so she walks in. It's cold, and it smells like sugar. It smells too sweet. Hara wants to leave.
But she doesn't. She puts down her gift on a table labelled 'Presents' and follows the noise.
She walks into a large living room. There are many tables set up, all seated with beautiful, skinny students. Students unlike Hara.
She heads over to Kurahashi's table, where Okuda and Kataoka also sit. But someone grabs her shoulder.
"Hey, what're you doing here?" It's a girl with bleached blonde hair and fake eyelashes. She's skinny and curvy and tall and pretty. She has big brown eyes and flawless makeup.
"I was invited," Hara answers.
The blonde sneers and shoves her to an empty table, where only one other girl sits. "Go sit at the table for uglies, twat."
Hara bits her lip. The whole room's gone silent, listening to the beautiful girl talk.
She walks to the table for 'uglies'. Everyone stares.
The other girl there has long eyelashes and wavy black hair.
"Kirara Hazama," the black-haired girl offers flatly. Then, "beauty doesn't matter to me," as an afterthought.
Hara sees the scars on Hazama's skinny wrists. But she doesn't ask.
She can hear the whispering in the room.
"Wow, is that Hara? She's so fat."
"Ew, I heard that she ate so much cake that she passed out."
"They'll make a disgusting couple, Hazama and Hara. Ha!"
Hara looks down at her hands and closes her eyes. All of her insecurities stab back at her.
Fat. Ugly. Stupid. Fat. Ugly. Stupid.
Suddenly, she feels a hand on her shoulder. She looks up. Manami Okuda.
"Hi," Okuda says, smiling. She sits down next to Hara and Hazama.
Someone audibly gasps.
Okuda doesn't say anything at first. But slowly, she starts plaiting her hair into two twin braids. She removes the bobby pins on top of her hair, and a fringe falls on her forehead. And lastly, she puts on glasses.
Silence.
"You're…you're that science nerd?" the blonde from before yells.
Okuda nods, before tapping Hara and Hazama on the shoulder. "Do you want to go outside?"
Hara trails behind Okuda, dumbfounded. Okuda…was the nerdy, average-looking girl that Hara had seen in the bookshop. The girl she'd been kind to.
The three girls sit down next to each other on a grassy hill, silent.
Hara doesn't know she's crying until she feels wet tears down her cheeks. She chokes back a sob. She wants to cry and let it all out. She wants to scream.
"Here."
Hazama offers her a black handkerchief. Hara takes it awkwardly and rubs her eyes, makeup smudging. She probably looks even hideous than she already is.
Okuda suddenly shoves a mirror in front of Hara's face. She stares at her broken, depressed reflection.
"Do you see this?" Okuda says quietly. "This is what months of wanting to be beautiful has done to you, Hara."
She sobs even louder, unable to hold it back.
"You're beautiful," Hazama comments monotonously. "I know that sometimes you don't feel like it, but don't change yourself for the world. Don't end up like me."
Hara wipes away her tears, and uses the handkerchief to wipe away her makeup.
Okuda reaches over and uses a tissue to scrub the last bit of blush off Hara's cheeks. "You looked better without makeup anyway," she smiles. She stands up. "Let's go to my house. I have cookies. And books."
Hara and Hazama follow, wordless, doubtless.
Hara hasn't exactly recovered yet.
The friendliness is so very sudden. It feels odd, a little overwhelming. But this is the happiest she's felt ever, since she started high school.
Hazama catches her eye and smiles. Hazama looks so pretty when she smiles.
Hara wanted to be pretty.
Maybe she could have achieved her goal just by smiling more often.
—
Two weeks later, Hara looks into the mirror at herself.
She smiles.
…
I felt like I should write this.
I just had an impulse to write about society's interpretation of beauty and its effect on teenage girls.
P.S: You're beautiful! Don't feel pressured to change anything about yourself!