Hey there,
I'll try to make this note as brief as I can and not waffle on too much, but basically where I'm from, within my local area it's awareness week, specifically in Body Positivity. It's something we take seriously, and something quite personal to me, so I really felt the need to write this short fic and get it out there.
Because I'd like if other girls, and boys, young and old, who have struggled with poor body positivity and who are reading this, if this could touch them in some way, make even the tiniest, positive difference in how they view themselves, then I am happy with that.
Why I chose Black Rock Shooter to base this subject on is because I feel that Mato Kuroi, bubbly and energetic and so full of happiness, can also fall into the awful cycle of dark thoughts. Because even the brightest and happiest people can fall victim to such serious topics, such as this one. Hence why I chose her.
The title of this fic was inspired by the actual song Scars to Your Beautiful by Alessia Cara. Do go listen to it, it's beautiful.
That wraps up my long note, if you read it all you have my sincerest thanks.
Without further ado, I give you Scars To Your Beautiful. For those of you who are stuggling with poor body positivity, don't worry, cause you will get there. I did.
Xo :)
School was a place that Mato loved. Her friends were there, she could play the sport she loved most there, she could be herself there. She could laugh until her stomach ached, talk until her voice went croaky. She even loved her lessons, despite the boring course material and fed-up teachers.
First and second year had to be the best years of her school education. Third year was a little rough, with exams and pressure, but still great despite that. She still got to be with Yomi and Yuu, heck she even loved being with Kagari, and the year passed without any trouble.
But then fourth year hit. Transition Year.
It was fine at the start. September and October passed with no problem. School course work was minimal, as it was a transition year into senior cycle with very little course material to cover. But she soon discovered that with little to do and so much time to spare, she was starting to notice things around her.
Small stuff at the start.
Girls going out.
Boys getting rough.
And then girls starting to judge.
And boys starting to leer.
Perfection began to be a must, and at first she couldn't understand why.
It really started in one week in November, at lunch time. With a swing in her step and a large grin plastered on her face, Mato swung her bag onto the floor and dumped herself ungracefully into a spare chair beside Yomi, giggling at her startled expression. After making quick work of her abused school bag, she pulled out her lunch box, mouth already starting to water in anticipation. "Hey, Yomi" she greeted, proceeding to pull out the contents of her box.
"Well hello to you too, Mato" the taller girl chuckled, dark green eyes amused. A quiet moment passed between them, Mato happily tucking into her sandwich with a satisfied hum, Yomi picking at her own lunch.
After swallowing a few mouthfuls, Mato turned to her best friend. "So hey I wanted to tell you something…"
She let her voice trail off when her gaze dropped to the taller girl's lunch box, alarm dawning on her. "Yomi you're eating, like, nothing!" she blurted out, blue eyes wide. Yomi was tall and slim, but never made small work of her meals. She ate just as much as the smaller girl, who's appetite was surprisingly large for her petite size.
Yomi frowned, delicately picking at the contents of her box- a fruit salad that was tiny in contrast to Mato's hefty sandwiches. "I am eating Mato. I've just decided I wanted to eat healthier. I was talking to a few girls earlier, and we all agreed that the amount of fat in one sandwich is quite worrying. Even Kagari agreed." She pierced a melon slice with her fork and popped it into her mouth.
"I just want to make healthier choices. Chicken is worryingly pumped with hormones and horrible substances." She paused for a moment, letting her eyes quickly trail down to Mato's sandwich held loosely between the small girl's fingers. "Though you should eat it if you want, I'm just saying." she quickly recovered, spotting small amounts of said food between the bread.
Mato looked down at her lunch, an uncomfortable weight settling in her stomach. She never felt it before, and she didn't like it. A bite of her sandwich didn't make it go away.
She shifted her attention away form her lunch when Yomi nudged her ribs with an elbow. "So what was it that you wanted to tell me?" she asked with a smile on her pretty face. Her pretty face with her thick mascara coated lashes and cheeks dusted with manufactured blush and concealed dark under-eyes that had, up till last week, been free from the cosmetic milky-white concealer.
Mato set her sandwich down, her stomach suddenly in sick knots. "I can't remember."
xXx
And then suddenly, perfection became everything.
She couldn't really remember how it managed to worm it's way into her head and control her, but it did. The need to watch what she was eating. Because if Yomi did it, and even Yuu was making 'healthier choices', then she wasn't going to be left behind.
No matter how much it upset her.
Calories became an enemy. A thing she watched and counted with accuracy. The joules of energy, what kept her system running, she began to restrict. Because an energy bar had enough calories in it for two meals, pasta made you look bloated and round.
And boys didn't like that, she was also told.
Those precious joules of energy that carried her through her exhausting hours of basketball training, that had become limited, began to fail her. Because after three months of conscious eating, paranoia that used to not be hers, exhaustion began to set into her body during sessions much too quickly, far more prematurely than it should've. Than it ever did.
It finally showed when she fell.
It was a spell of dizziness, a moment of dark spots covering her vision, and one moment she was soaring, ball in hand, the next she was a painful heap on the gym floor.
Kohata was above her in seconds, worry and concern in her usually fiery features as she knelt down beside her. "Mato? Mato are you OK?" she asked with a stern voice laced with worry, one hand resting on the weak girl's shoulder.
Blinking the haze from her eyes, she gave her beloved trainer a strained smile. "I'm fine, coach. Just didn't drink much water before training. I'm alright though, don't worry."
The red headed senior gave her one more suspicious look over, reddish-brown eyes lingering on her for a few tense moments, before giving a dismissive shrug of her shoulders. "Alright then. Take it handy for the rest of this session though. And eat a burger will you? Might give you a bitta colour in your cheeks. You're looking awfully pale."
She turned sharply on her heel with a squeak of her trainers, bellowing at the other observing students. "Whatcha all standing about for? I want to see ten laps now! Go!"
Mato rectified the paleness:
With the help of a slightly darker than her actual skin tone foundation, and a dusting of blush on her sinking cheeks. The stuff she detested only five months ago, now something she relied on.
xXx
Along came March, and April was gone faster than she could blink.
May dragged by.
She woke up in the morning. Skipped breakfast.
She suffocated her skin in cosmetics. She weakly met Yomi at their usual meeting spot.
She ignored the worried glances she received from her.
She picked grapes from a tiny stalk at lunch, politely denied Yomi's offers laced with desperation to accept an energy bar, an apple, flavoured water.
She trudged her way from lesson to lesson, she heaved her way through basketball sessions.
When asked if she was okay, she laughed with a false grin much too large for her thin face, and asked why wouldn't she be.
She silently cried in a bathroom stall when a sneering boy that passed her in the halls asked her why she had no breasts.
When school finished she went home and slept for hours, too tired to do anything else.
She showered slowly when she woke up, each gesture to clean herself exhausting.
She weighed herself, unsure of what she was yesterday, unsure of what she ever was before.
She stared at her naked body in the mirror, counted the delicate bars of bone that began to protrude from under her skin, the moonlight from her window further highlighting them as she returned to her fetal position on her bed, her hair still damp and her body shivering despite her room temperature being much too warm for any other person.
Any other normal, healthy person.
She scoffed at the word healthy. She'd long forgotten what it meant.
And with tears falling silently down her face, she'd whisper with cold shivers trembling through her body,
"Beauty is pain and there's beauty in everything. What's a little bit of hunger? I can go a little while longer",
Before closing her eyes and falling asleep, only to repeat the same routine the very next morning.
xXx
Though, it was near the end of June or possibly the start of July, she wasn't sure, when hope began to creep back into her life again. A warm feeling she missed dearly.
It happened one night in a dream. By now her slumber had begun to become deep and reality had begun to become worryingly sluggish, so much that she was never sure if she was ever dreaming or if what she was seeing was reality.
But this time, though it was a dream for sure, it was the most real, most vibrant, most alive form of reality she had see in a long time.
There was a girl. A girl that was herself but also not herself; she was her from before, strong and proud, full and vibrant, slim but healthy, oh so healthy. She was glowing. Her hair was much longer than her own, her irises a strange circular pattern, but she was her.
The girl was standing in front of her, blue eyes trapping her own tired and dead eyes in a cool gaze. Then, her gaze softened and lips lifted into a gentle smile. She stepped forward and embraced her, pale arms wrapped loosely but certainly around her.
Mato gasped, suddenly filled with warmth, comfort and hope. With love. Somehow there was a name in her head, one she didn't recognize but in that moment somehow knew who it belonged to.
It belonged to the girl embracing her.
And then, whispered into her ear as her gaze started to go white, she heard. "Let me help you see a bit clearer the light that shines within, the scars to your beautiful."
She then awoke gasping and crying, not despairing tears like the ones that fell from her eyes before, but the first real hopeful tears she's shed in a long time.
She sat up from her sleeping position, still gasping with realisation, and she smiled at her reflection in the mirror, shaking her head at her foolishness and tears of hope rolling down her face.
And from that moment, she knew everything would be better again.
xXx
It wasn't easy, but she got there. After a long four months of a slow but successful recovery, tears spilled along the away and some relapses, she got there. With the love of her friends, with the love of the one she knew that was alive inside her soul.
Perfection was something she didn't work for, because it was a word that didn't exist in her vocabulary any more.
Beautiful was a word that did though.
And every night, unlike before, just before she settled into her happy, contented and peaceful slumber, she whispered "Thank you, Black Rock Shooter."