[2025.07.31] Figure Skating Life Extra "Yuzuru Hanyu Profesional 3"

[Wintek]

Figure Skating Life Extra "Yuzuru Hanyu Profesional 3"

[フィギュアスケートLife Extra「羽生結弦 PROFESSIONAL Season3」]

 

Release Date: July 31, 2025

3,300 yen

Regular edition and limited edition available in printed and digital version. Digital versions available on Amazon Japan: Limited Edition and Regular Edition.

More information: http://fusosha.co.jp/books/detail/9784594623937 

 

Yuzuru's Photos (without including the cover):

• White sweater (indoor and outdoor): 23
• White shirt: 7
• Glasses: 11
• Red leather jacket: 5 
• Echoes of Life: 8
• Noto Charity Performance: 10
• Notte Stellata: 11
• Bow and Arrow: 8
• The First Skate: 6

 

Contents [Work in Progress]

Special Shooting

1- HANYU YUZURU-

Photos by Toru Yaguchi

 

Exclusive Interview

24- I Want to Incorporate More and More Beyond Figure Skating ✓

 

54-Yuzuru Hanyu ICE STORY 3rd

Echoes of Life Saitama Performance Photos by Keiko Asakura ✓

Yuzuru Hanyu's Story of Living Philosophy by Yumeko Yamamoto ✓

The Echo Born from Yuzuru Hanyu that Touched the Lives of the Audience

"Echoes of Life" Fumofumo Column ✓

 

68--Noto Peninsula Reconstruction Support Charity Performance Challenge ✓

Yaguchi: Facing '”Conveying” with One’s Whole Heart and Soul ✓

 

76-Yuzuru Hanyu "notte stellata 2025" ✓

Photos by Keiko Asakura

Interview

84-Mansai Nomura: Yuzuru Hanyu is a Modern-Day Onmyoji

90--Takahito Mura  Yuzuru is working hard, so I have to work hard too.

 

Special

"BOW AND ARROW" MV: A Miraculous Collaboration ✓

94 - Kenshi Yonezu

What I felt at the rinkside was his immense passion for figure skating. ✓

90 - Kyotaro Hayashi: My impression of figure skating has changed from "elegance" to "strength." ✓

101 - Daishi Okuyama: I want to keep chasing after his back as a fellow artist. ✓

104 - Kenshi Yonezu's "BOW AND ARROW" MV: Yuzuru Hanyu's Skating Commentary by Hitomi Hasegawa ✓

 

108 - The First Skate: Sendai City Arena Opening Event ✓

 

*** This machine translation is also available for browsing reading on THIS LINK

[Wintek]

**Machine Translation Japanese to English, inaccuracies exist**

 

[P. 24 - 35]

Exclusive Interview

Yuzuru Hanyu

“I want to keep incorporating more and more things outside of figure skating too.”

It’s been three years since he became a professional athlete. With "GIFT," "RE_PRAY," and now the third installment of his Ice Story, "Echoes of Life," Yuzuru has once again shown us a new world. There is no doubt that, on the path he is walking, there are still so many things we’ve yet to see.

Spoiler

---

When did the idea for the pre-sale of the storybook come about?

 

Hmm, when was it… While we were talking about various things and working out the production plan, we thought, “Maybe it would be better if we told it in advance.” As we were putting together the production plan and the video plan, it felt like, yeah, this way would probably be better, so that’s how we decided to release it.

Reading it beforehand made it much easier to immerse myself in the world, even for a first-time viewer. While reading it, I wondered, when you write, do you have images in your head? Because it really felt like the scenes opened up vividly.

That makes me happy. Yes, I do write while picturing the scenes in my head. But… if I were writing it as a normal novel, I’d need to add more depth, and I’d have to write much more detailed descriptions of expressions and everything. But since this was the story for an Ice Story, I felt like if I wrote that much, it would get in the way, or maybe I’d end up being too bound by it… it would turn into a novel. It’s like a philosophical[1] book and also has a novel-like quality, but still, I felt that I had to write it completely as the story of an Ice Story. So I wrote it while describing some things… and holding back on others.

While also considering the structure of the Ice Story itself?

Exactly. This time, when I wrote "Echoes," the setlist was already decided first. I also wrote out these setting notes, like: “This is the concept I want this to have.” From there, I decided: okay, this story should be paired with this piece of music, then this next story should go with this piece… I kept weaving things together that way, deciding the setlist and the settings, and then I wrote from there. So it was like: “I want to entrust this part of the story to this character,” or “I want to entrust this to this program,” or “Since this program expresses this, if I don’t write this part down, the meaning of this program might not really come through.” It was that kind of back-and-forth negotiation with myself while I was writing it.

I wondered which came first.

The setlist came first. I couldn’t write at all otherwise (laughs).

So you decided the setlist first because you couldn’t write?

For "RE_PRAY," the setlist didn’t come first. But this time, once I wrote out all the setting notes, the setlist just came together naturally. So that was the flow.

So, settings, then setlist, then story.

Yes, something like that. The core theme, though, was always philosophy, I’d already decided I wanted that. So I first thought about what kind of story direction I wanted to take from that. Then I was like, “Maybe something a bit sci-fi-like,” and so I wrote out all the settings, and from there decided on the setlist.

Overall, it felt like the structure followed the story. But even within each program, it felt like every one of them had its own story embedded in it. For example, in “Ubugoe~ Meguri,” [First Cry~ Circulation] your arm movements use basic ballet positions, which gave me this sense of “beginning.”

That makes me happy. Really happy. I’m trained in jazz dance, but for about two months I studied the basics of ballet-oriented jazz. I wanted to bring in what I learned there. (As the performances went on) it gradually faded away (laughs), but in the beginning I really tried to make it very precise. Like, the way I moved my neck (how to keep your head fixed when turning), or thinking of the techniques and positions not by their skating names, but by their ballet names to shape them. Even how I placed my hands, I’d be like, “Let’s go a little bit en haut (arms raised position)” while working it out. So I’m really happy to hear that. It’s the first time anyone has said that to me (laughs).

I felt that from the very first performance, so I’m glad I was right (laughs).

For the first performance, I was really conscious of it. But gradually it became… my own way of doing it (laughs). Kind of nostalgic, really. Like you said, each program has its own story. But it’s like… those stories, or rather, those stories turn into music, and those words[2] become music that Nova wears, in a way. And when you listen to the music, it’s like… when Nova experiences those stories that have transcended words, it creates entirely new values, and then, when you return to Nova’s storyline, it looks completely different. That process keeps repeating, and it’s like a story about enriching life.

You mentioned words becoming music, and the program with the narration (“Eclipse/blue”) was striking. So words really do sound like music to you.

The first time I felt that language itself was sound was with Chinese. I happened to be at my grandmother’s house and there was a Chinese drama on TV, and when I heard the Chinese, it just sounded so beautiful to me. Like such a beautiful tone. And then I looked closely and realized, “Oh, it’s Chinese.” That’s when I realized: the sound of classical Chinese has these tones that only exist there. Then I thought: well, with Japanese too, the majority of the world doesn’t understand it. So how does Japanese sound to people who aren’t native speakers? I wondered about that. It’s also fascinating to see how people from other countries interpret it, but I think there’s a wavelength you can only feel if you’re Japanese, and a way of expressing it that only Japanese people can do. That’s why I call it “Poem.” And in that scene, I wanted to express that.

That was such a fresh experience.

For example, even with movies, the impression changes completely depending on whether you watch it dubbed or with subtitles. They change the words and even the number of words for dubbing, and subtitles sometimes become… a kind of compressed essence. But I think the rhythm of the words spoken by the actors, and the way dubbed lines sink in, are probably different. And I feel that for me, Yuzuru Hanyu, with skating, there’s also a quality of sound I can bring out. Whether it’s classical music, piano, soundtrack-like music such as “Ubugoe,” hip hop, there are so many sounds I can express, and I want to bring all of that out. I also wanted people to experience the meaning of words, the wavelengths that words carry, together with physical expression. I wanted them to feel: “Japanese is this beautiful.” That’s why I made it that way.

That’s wonderful.

Thank you very much.

Nova performs “Ballade No. 1”

Could you explain the concept behind the Piano Collection again? Each program seemed to highlight a different element, so how did you decide on the order and structure?

At first, I was thinking of making it chronological. Like, starting from Bach, then packing in works from various composers in between, and finally connecting it all to Chopin’s “Ballade No. 1.” But as I discussed it with [pianist] Shinya Kiyozuka, it eventually turned into the form it is now.

There’s so much meaning packed in there, but… if I start talking about it, it would probably fill a whole book (laughs). If I had to put it into words, I feel that classical music—like the old, “pure” classics—has a certain philosophical quality.

We live in a time now where we can listen to all kinds of music, like modern pop and so on, but… pop itself branched out and came into existence because classical music was there first. That’s something I kind of feel inside me.

And those classical works—what I call “the roots” of music—feel to me like the philosophical side of our way of thinking. And I feel like the instrument where that comes through most purely… is the piano.

It’s a single instrument, but one person can create the sound of an orchestra. And using ten fingers, it’s like… playing words as sound. I think that’s something only the piano can do. So I worked on it by taking these little phrases of classical piano and weaving them in one by one.

From a technical skating perspective, some programs focused on spins, others on steps, each had its own specialty. Whose idea was that?

That was me. From the beginning, I decided, “I want this program to be like this,” and then I asked Jeff [Buttle] to choreograph it in the end. They were programs I built from the start by packing in only the highlights I wanted.

For example, “Truth” had this incredibly long spin, was that your idea from the start too?

For “Truth,” it was basically me choreographing it myself (laughs). I told Jeff, “Well, it’s just spins anyway,” so I didn’t ask him for that one. I think for the others, I asked Jeff to do them all.

You remember “If” from Fantasy on Ice 2023, right? The one that starts with spinning? That idea really struck me as interesting. That melody—its sense of turning, circling, like being swallowed by waves—in my mind, from the very beginning, was just… spin.

So I thought, okay, let’s start spinning from the very beginning, like in “If.” First, the longest spin in a basic position. Basic, meaning, the “classics” of figure skating spins. Do that, and from there add new expressions to it. So, the first long camel spin in the basic position. Then change legs and do another long basic sit spin. And then, gradually evolve. Add in the so-called “difficult variations,” and finally finish with a Thompson.

And even that last Thompson, it doesn’t fade away until the music stops. I spin all the way through, still spinning as it ends. That was something I was particular about.

I even cut down the music itself, so it would really feel like, “I’m just spinning endlessly.”

Each program was so dense and compelling, but then you followed it all with “Ballade No. 1.”

It was tough (laughs). My initial idea for the Piano Collection was kind of like “a six-minute warm-up” in competition. Yeah… that idea completely failed (laughs).

It’s definitely not the same level of exertion as a six-minute warm-up (laughs).

Exactly. Besides, during an actual six-minute warm-up, I don’t even practice spins. For steps too, I just do a quick run-through at the start and that’s it.

You only practice spins at the end when you’re a kid, right?

Yeah, that’s true (laughs). Back in my junior days, I’d only practice them when I was barely hanging on with the required flying sit spin. So, with that background, it really drained my stamina. And then, being watched the whole time on top of that…

Each program was already complete on its own, so the mental strain was massive too. That was definitely a heavy burden.

But even so, I felt that without that exact flow, “Ballade” just wouldn’t slot into the storyline. There’s that three-minute gap leading into “Ballade,” which ELEVENPLAY filled for me, but… I could have performed “Ballade” under bright, competition-style lighting, just like in the previous Ice Stories. But no, this “Ballade” had to be Nova’s. And if Nova was skating “Ballade,” then it absolutely wouldn’t be the competitive version of “Ballade.” I really wanted to present it as a program of expression, as a story. So I absolutely needed the lighting effects.

Also, if I was going to truly express “Ballade,” I felt it couldn’t be just triples (laughs). Sure, I could’ve stuck with triples and it would have been fine. “Ballade No. 1” is already an extremely dense program. But… to express “fate,” I had to keep challenging quads. It was incredibly hard, but I pushed through.

I felt like you raised the bar again.

More than anything, what made it hard was… it was dark, and the rink felt small.

“Rondo Capriccioso” is a recent program, so the width of my steps and my speed feel comfortable there. But with “Ballade,” now, it just feels small. Even on a full-sized rink, it feels small now because I’ve gotten used to covering more distance.

So, adjusting to that—while already exhausted—was really tough. But I think… it had to be that way. It had to be that challenge, or it wouldn’t have meant anything.

If the lights had been bright in that scene, it would’ve broken the world-building.

Yeah. It would have felt like the story got cut off there.

For example, I think “Herald of Destruction” in “RE_PRAY” worked really well. It had that tension, like, “What’s coming next?” Up until then, everything had been in sync with the video, and then suddenly—bam!—you’re startled, like, “Oh, I’m not a hero or villain in this story. I’m just another person in this world.” I think that was a good way to deliver it.

But this time… this was Nova’s story. And I really wanted to keep the focus entirely on Nova.

“Enjoy the changes in each program”

Also, ‘Danny Boy’ felt different every time. Before, I sensed hope in it, but this time I felt prayer… or a kind of compassion.

I was totally praying (laughs). I’m really glad you felt that.

I’m glad. It’s fascinating how it feels different every time.

That program, more than any other, doesn’t have much “narration,” so to speak. I do put a lot of feeling into it when I perform, but it’s not a program that “talks” through its choreography.

It’s the music, the skating, and the emotions of the people watching at that moment, that’s what changes how it looks.

One of the big concepts of Ice Story has always been that I want people to enjoy those changes. The way the meanings of the programs shift within the story, I want people to feel that transformation. So I’m really happy you felt that.

And the costumes this time? They were quite unique.

This time, one of the concepts was to use costumes that didn’t feel like typical figure skating costumes. Not that I wanted to turn it into a fashion show, but… I wanted to present skating in a way that felt like a different kind of stage.

Working with GUCCI, for example, gave me a lot of chances to wear all sorts of outfits. And when I wore clothes that weren’t “figure skating costumes,” but fashion pieces, I thought, “This way of expressing things, this is new, but it works.”

When I do photo shoots, I enjoy that too, and it’s rewarding, but in the end, my field is skating. So even though I knew skating in those outfits would be hard, I thought: I should challenge myself. That’s why I went with that theme this time.

The designs weren’t typical skating costumes, but I imagine the materials were carefully chosen?

Very much so. We calculated things like how the fabric would flow, even used fans to test it. And still, when I skated in them, there were times things would tear or rip. We kept adjusting them, over and over again, until we got it right.

The costume for “Utai IV ~ Reawakening” was beautiful.

“Utai” was… tough. Really, it was so tough. Like, how do we get it to flow in the wind exactly the way I imagined? And also, holding the sleeves—or rather, there are these wings-like things hidden inside the sleeves—when I tried skating while holding them, the wind’s effect was way stronger than I thought, and it didn’t look beautiful at all.

So there was a lot of back-and-forth about things like, “What material should we use?” We redesigned it so the wind could pass through, changed the length… it was really difficult.

And then for “MANSAI Bolero” at notte stellata 2025, the costume also had long sleeves. That must have been hard too.

“MANSAI Bolero” was difficult in a completely different way from “Utai.” I had to be really careful not to step on the sleeves, and I was also very conscious of, “How do I make this look real, not fake?”

Because the sleeves just tend to stick flat against you, right? And since [Mansai] Nomura himself was right there beside me, any hint of “fake kimono” would be obvious. That’s exactly why I felt I had to bring my movements—and myself—closer to the real thing. Otherwise, it would just end up looking like “a fake is skating.”

Avoiding stepping on the sleeves was tough, but honestly, I think that—making it look authentic—was even harder.

Before we talk more about notte stellata, were you doing a lot of strength training before “Echoes”? You looked different, your silhouette seemed to change.

Really? Yeah, I was doing strength training before “Echoes.” People told me my shoulders especially had bulked up. I was training through spring, summer, and autumn. And I still do, even now.

What was your goal with that training?

It wasn’t just my shoulders, it was my whole body. Up to this point, I’d been able to land jumps without really doing weight training. But when I thought about how I could evolve from here… there are times when I feel like I’ve hit a temporary limit, you know? And as I was studying different things, I realized, “There’s still so much I haven’t tried.” Weight training was one of those things.

Are there other things you haven’t tried yet, but would like to?

Dance practice… yeah, I really think I need to keep doing it. All kinds of genres. I mean, I’m not a beginner in figure skating, but when it comes to dance? I’m completely a beginner. So I feel like if I don’t build my foundation properly and keep working at it consistently, it’ll just fall apart.

A very tense collaboration

And then, notte stellata 2025. “MANSAI Bolero” gave me chills.

Thank you. Having Mansai-san right there, and receiving his performance… it allowed me to move fairly freely. But even so… I certainly thought I had prayed in various programs, but it was my first time to perform a dance[3] that was so quintessentially Japanese, like a prayer, or a Shinto ritual[4], or an offering[5]. It was really a new experience for me. In a way, every time I performed it, I felt almost the same kind of sacredness you feel when you go to a shrine and receive a blessing[6].

Yes, it felt like a ritual, and I also sensed the seasons, life, death, and rebirth.

Exactly. In my mind, I saw Mansai-san as a god. And I was like his shadow, this fragment of a god who had descended into the real world. And then I asked myself, “How can a human skater express that?” I mean, I’ve gotten older, but I’m still only 30. I can’t fully bring out the aura and gravitas that someone like Nomura Mansai has. So I was torn. Should I stay as I am? Should I bring out more? Should I try to channel even more of Nomura Mansai’s presence? I wrestled with that constantly, both in my movements and in my mindset.

And then, “SEIME”’, this long-awaited collaboration.

Yeah, for “SEIMEI,” I just had to be there as his shikigami[7]. I was honestly just nervous the whole time (laughs). I kept asking myself, “How much power can I receive? How perfect must I be, as his shikigami?” And also, I’d never performed “SEIMEI” in the dark before, not with the quads included. It looked so different. It was interesting.

Even Mansai-san’s fans were surprised that he agreed to perform Abe no Seimei again. There was even a time when, in interviews, he’d said he wanted to step away from that role, that the image of Seimei was too strong and he wanted to move past it.

But then, because of me, he put on that eboshi again… When fans told me, “I can’t believe he went that far for this,” it made me so happy.

“Where did the idea for you to perform as his shikigami come from?”

Well, if the original Nomura Mansai himself was going to play Abe no Seimei, then of course I’d be the shikigami (laughs).

That was the image from the start. We talked it through, and yeah, it naturally took shape like that. I also suggested the idea of making the shikigami’s paper effigies fall like flower petals. The props team worked incredibly hard for that number.

Was there anything else that stood out to you about this year’s notte stellata?

Everyone was serious this time. I've done a lot of different ice shows up until now, and I've noticed a lot of differences in how hard people work, how much effort they put into it, and how much soul they put into it, but with "notte." But this time… there was no gap. Everyone poured their souls into it[8]. They put so much meaning even into my programs, and I could trust them completely. That’s what struck me the most. It felt like… I finally had true companions. Usually, there aren’t many skaters who throw themselves in that deeply. But I think it’s also because this was the third year, and by now, everyone really understands how I’ve faced the earthquake and what it means to me. Because of that, they could give it their all. And with the staff working so hard too, we managed to bring this show to life.

All the programs from everyone were truly wonderful.

They really were. Honestly, everyone was amazing. That’s why it felt so good to skate with them.

“Since I Accepted it, I was Determined to do it at full throttle[9]”

Time has flown by, but we still need to talk about Medalist. During the filming of
“PROFESSIONAL Season 2” last year, you were playing Kenshi Yonezu’s song and saying, “I’d really love to skate to this.” But before you even got the chance to, you ended up appearing in Yonezu-san’s music video (BOW AND ARROW).

Yeah, that was a total “No way!” moment for me too (laughs). But honestly, it was such a valuable opportunity, even for the sake of getting myself back to my own level again. (I even did a quadruple Lutz in the MV.) It reminded me once more of just how much meaning high-difficulty jumps carry. And of course, to reach that point, I had to train like crazy. It had also been a long time since I’d skated to pop music, so it was a huge learning experience, and above all, it was such an honor.

Yonezu-san is practically like a god to you, isn’t he?

He really was a god, you know, wasn’t he? He was just… so cool.

What was it like meeting him in person?

My first thought was, “Wow, he’s tall.”

Tall enough to make you look small, even!

Exactly! I mean, usually, when I’m wearing skates and standing next to someone not wearing them, I’m the taller one. But with him, I was just like, “He’s huge!” But more than anything, I felt he’s someone who pours his soul into his work and takes deep responsibility for what he creates. The shoot was so long, there were plenty of cold hours, and even though his own scenes weren’t that many, he stayed there the whole time, watching. I really felt that’s because he carries this profound sense of responsibility for everything he brings into the world.

Even current competitive skaters were stunned when they saw that video, saying things like “He’s landing harder jumps than we are,” or ‘That layout is impossible.”

Yeah… that last 4S+3T combo, right? Even I was like, “Why did I do that?” (laughs). I really thought the same thing.

When did you first learn about Medalist?

I actually only read the original manga after I got the offer. To be honest, I hadn’t really been interested in figure skating anime before.

A lot of skaters say that.

Yeah. I mean, they’re just too unrealistic. Well… and in my case, I’ve kind of lived a life that already feels like an anime (laughs).

More than an anime, really.

Heh (laughs). So anyway, I got the offer, read the manga for the first time around early December, and then I binge-watched the anime. And I thought, “I want to do this.” But at the same time, I also thought, “If I do it, I have to jump. There’s no other way.” I realized the only window of time when I could really be ready for this was between the end of Echoes of Life and the start of notte stellata. So I knew I’d have to make up my mind and commit completely.

Honestly, after every show, my body gets to a point where even a quad toe is barely there. So I really wondered, “Can I even manage a Lutz? Can I even get to the point of doing a Salchow?” That’s why I couldn’t just casually say yes. I struggled with the decision… but I accepted it.

So it was like, “I can’t let this chance slip away!”?

More than that, I just felt… I’d be letting them down otherwise. If someone composing the music was placing their faith in me—believing “This is the one who can do it”—then I wanted to deliver beyond that expectation.

That was my pride as Yuzuru Hanyu. If I was going to accept their offer, then I was going to give it absolutely everything I had.

Finally, what are your goals or dreams going forward?

I just want to keep improving. To learn more, absorb everything I can, and keep growing. Figure skating alone… it’s not enough anymore.

If I want to express what I truly want to express, I can’t just rely on the knowledge I’ve gained from figure skating up to now. And I can’t do it with just my own strength anymore either. I’ve created three ice stories now, all the way up to Echoes. Because I’ve been able to build that foundation, I know I have to keep aiming even higher, to create works of even greater quality. Not just for myself, but carrying the pride of every single staff member who works with me… I want to leave behind something truly good, for Japan, and for the world.

Following “Echoes” is going to be a high bar to clear.

True! But you know, I thought the same thing after RE_PRAY too, like, “This is going to be so hard.” So… I’m sure it’ll be fine (laughs).

 

PROFILE

Born December 7, 1994 in Sendai City. Won a gold medal at the 2014 Sochi Olympics and the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics. Received the People's Honor Award in 2018. In 2020, he became the first man in history to win the Super Slam. In July 2022, he turned professional athlete. In February 2023, he successfully performed at the Tokyo Dome, the first time in skating history, with the ice story "GIFT," for which he served as executive producer. From November of the same year to April 2024, he held his first solo tour, the second part of the ice story, "RE_PRAY," in Saitama, Saga, Yokohama, and Miyagi. From December 2024 to February 2025, he held the third part of the ice story, "Echoes of Life," in Saitama, Hiroshima, and Chiba.

Text by Yumeko Yamamoto (山本夢子) Photos by Toru Yaguchi (矢口亨)

 

NOTES

[1] In Japanese, "哲学" (philosophy) often implies reflective, abstract exploration of life's meaning rather than academic philosophy.

[2] 文字たち ("moji-tachi"), The suffix -たち is usually used for people or living beings, but Yuzuru often uses it for inanimate concepts (like words), giving them an almost animate, living quality.

[3] 舞 (mai): A type of ritual dance often performed at shrines or in traditional theater (like Noh). Carries strong cultural connotations of solemnity and dedication.

[4] 神事 (shinji): ritual or ceremony conducted at a Shinto shrine, often by priests, for purification or blessing.

[5] 捧げもの (sasage-mono):  something (food, objects, or symbolic actions) presented to deities.

[6] ご祈祷 (go-kitō): A prayer or invocation performed by Shinto priests, typically when visiting a shrine for protection or fortune.

[7] In Japanese folklore, a Shikigami is a spirit or supernatural entity summoned to serve a master (often an onmyoji, or yin-yang practitioner). Yuzuru imagines himself as Mansai's "Shikigami," reinforcing his supporting role in the performance of "SEIMEI."

[8] 魂を込める (Tamashī o komeru), "putting one’s soul into it", a common Japanese phrase that implies not just working hard, but investing one’s spirit and emotional essence into a task or performance.

[9] 全開でやる (Zenkai de yaru), literally "to do it fully open", “to do it at full throttle.” This is an idiomatic phrase meaning "to give it everything you’ve got" or "to go all out," with a sense of holding nothing back.

 

[Wintek]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist*

[P. 54-55]

Yuzuru Hanyu ICE STORY 3rd

ECHOES OF LIFE

Saitama Performance

 

What is life, the meaning of life, and destiny?

"This is a story of life, where we move forward while asking ourselves these questions.

The fact that we are watching this story now may also be a part of our destiny."

We covered the opening night of "Echoes of Life" in Saitama on December 7, 2024.

 

 

Spoiler

December 7, 2024 Saitama Super Arena

SET LIST

 

1. First Pulse

2. First Cry~Circulation ( 産声〜めぐり)

3. Utai IV-Reawakening

4. Mass Destruction-Reload-

5. Piano Collection (ピアノコレクション)

5-1 6 Pieces for Piano, Op. 118: No.3. Ballade in G Minor, Allegro energio

5-2 The Well-Tempered Clavier, Book 1: No2, Prelude and Fugue in C Minor, BWV 847

5-3 Keyboard Sonata in D Minor, K.141

5-4 12Etudes, Op.25: No.12 in C Minor "Ocean"

5-5 12Etudes, Op.10: No. 4 in C-Sharp Minor "Torrent"

6. Ballade No.1 in G Minor, Op.23

7. Goliath (2024Remix)

8. Aqua’s Journey (アクアの旅路) (Piano Solo Ver.)

9. Eclipse/blue

10. GATE OF STEINER -Aesthetics on Ice

11. Danny Boy

12. The Poem for Everyone's Souls (全ての人の魂の詩)

 

Encore 

 

1. Let Me Entertain You

2. Ashura-chan (阿修羅ちゃん)

3. SEIMEI

 

---

[P. 56-57]

Yuzuru Hanyu’s Story of a Philosophy for Living

by Yumeko Yamamoto

Yuzuru Hanyu as Performer and Executive Producer

On December 7, Yuzuru Hanyu’s birthday, his third “Ice Story,” Echoes of Life, opened at Saitama Super Arena. Following the evolution of GIFT and RE_PRAY, this newest installment introduced a new element: for the first time, Hanyu released a storybook he had written himself, allowing the audience to read the narrative in advance and step into the world he envisioned.

Spoiler

The central theme of Hanyu’s Ice Stories has always been “life,” but in Echoes of Life, he adds a new layer: the search for the meaning of “I,” explored through the story of Nova. How, then, would this philosophical reflection on what it means to live be expressed on the ice?

Even before opening night, expectations for Echoes of Life grew steadily higher. The stage featured a massive screen in front, a structure with a stage that could rise from below, and two small balcony-like platforms on each side. Around the rink, white driftwood and sculptural pieces were arranged, evoking the atmosphere of a desolate city.

As the show began, Hanyu appeared, rising from below the stage, enclosed in a transparent pod. Nova, having awakened from sleep, steps out into the world to grasp his situation. On the screen, the transformed world was depicted with high-quality CGI, like watching a film.

The costumes, too, broke away from the usual figure skating style, looking more like futuristic fashion. Hanyu appeared dressed in an elaborately designed black outfit, his face marked with silver lines, embodying a near-future sci-fi aesthetic. Regarding the costumes, Hanyu explained:

“This time, we worked with creators who don’t usually design for figure skating. Echoes has a different tone from RE_PRAY, GIFT, or PROLOGUE. Even in the costumes, I wanted to bring out textures and details that feel unique to Echoes, not something you’d find in typical figure skating costumes.”

The Story of Nova

The narrative of this Ice Story unfolds as Nova travels back and forth between two realms: the outside world he wakes to, and “The Room”, a place of words and characters representing “life.”

The programs draw from a diverse range of music: film and game soundtracks like Ghost in the Shell and Persona 3, classical piano pieces, Chopin’s Ballade No. 1 in G Minor (which Hanyu once skated to in competition), and even Danny Boy, first performed in “notte stellata 2024.” The opening number, First Pulse, was composed specifically for this show.

“Because RE_PRAY leaned more toward a game-like concept, this time, while creating a new program, I wanted to bring in more classical elements,” Hanyu said. “The theme is philosophical, so I chose piano pieces and music that give you a clear, serene feeling.”

One particularly striking element is “Poem: Eclipse/blue,” where Hanyu skates not to music, but to spoken words, a bold and unprecedented choice in his Ice Stories.

Hanyu explained:

“I’ve always had this tendency… I hear colors, images, and emotions as if they were sounds. For example, some people associate the color red with passion, while others see it as fear. Interpretations differ from person to person. But for me, those things have always translated directly into sound. So, I incorporated the way I train to express the intonation and meaning of words into this program.”

With each new Ice Story, Hanyu continues to surprise with fresh experiments. His boundless creativity is nourished by his own experiences, his vast reading, encounters with professionals across various fields, and even inspiration drawn from anime and games, each transformed into narrative art. Beyond the label of “professional athlete,” Hanyu continues to flourish as a creator, showing us the ever-expanding potential of what an ice show can be.

If you ever have the chance to experience it, step into this world. It will bring you something new, something you could never have imagined.

Encore and Closing

After the main story concluded, Hanyu returned for an encore that shifted the atmosphere from solemn to celebratory: Let Me Entertain You, Ashura-chan, and SEIMEI, programs that brought the audience to life with cheers and joy.

On opening night, which also happened to be Hanyu’s birthday, he even prompted the audience himself:

“Please sing Happy Birthday for me!”

The warmth in the arena was palpable: a space created by Hanyu, who draws motivation from his supporters’ joy, and the fans who came to witness the stories he weaves on the ice. In that moment, as Nova faded and Yuzuru Hanyu himself stood there, his eyes must have been filled with countless smiling faces.

Following its successful runs in Saitama and Hiroshima, Echoes of Life concluded with its Chiba performances in February. Many who saw it likely left the arena reflecting on life itself: on what it means to live, on the roles and missions we each carry, on the connections born when one life encounters another, and how we might make those connections beautiful.

Although the programs in Echoes of Life remain the same from performance to performance, Hanyu’s skating—and the way each person receives it—changes every time. There is no single “right” interpretation. As in life itself, what matters is the act of imagining, of thinking deeply.

Each of us carries away our own message from Hanyu’s story. And with that, we wait for his next Ice Story, eager to see where he will lead us next.

---

[P. 60-67]

The Echo Born from Yuzuru Hanyu that Shook the Lives of the Audience —

Echoes of “Echoes of Life”

Fumo-Fumo Column

From December 7, 2024, to February 9, 2025, Yuzuru Hanyu’s “Yuzuru Hanyu ICE STORY 3rd Echoes of Life TOUR” was held in three cities — Saitama, Hiroshima, and Chiba — with a total of seven performances. Now, even as we approach half a year since the tour concluded, I still feel this strange sensation that the long, long reverberation of Echoes of Life continues on inside my chest.

This sensation is entirely different from what I feel when I watch a sports competition, and it is also different from the kind of experience one usually has with an entertainment event like an ice show. Sports competitions have an end, and the result is what matters. Entertainment also has an ending, and by witnessing it, you reach closure. That’s why, when the competition is settled or the ending is seen, your heart generally comes to rest. “It’s over,” “that was fun,” “case closed.”

However, Echoes of Life does not “end.”

Spoiler

When I wondered why I feel this way, I arrived at the word “art.” Defining art is difficult, but from my own sense of it, I think art is “something that moves the heart,” and that the essence lies not in the object itself but in “the heart that is moved.” Paintings or sculptures do not “end” simply because they are completed or because you have “finished looking at them.” Rather, they become the starting point for “something to begin” in the heart of the one who sees them. For example, you wouldn’t look at Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa or Picasso’s Guernica and feel “I’ve seen it, so that’s the end of it.”

I believe Yuzuru Hanyu’s Echoes of Life was of that same nature. While it is a sport — figure skating — and simultaneously an entertainment performance that depicts a fictional story, it is also an art piece whose essence resides in “the hearts of the audience that were moved” by it. Sports and entertainment can also have such aspects, but I feel it was in Echoes of Life that this quality became strikingly clear.

Yuzuru Hanyu does not hand down “answers.” He entrusts the “answers” to the hearts of those who watch

Put simply, the ice stories that Hanyu creates are “open-ended.” The narrative parts are spun in a poetic style, and the accumulation of movements and music weave together into a single story. Yet, no programs performed in direct synchronization with the story exist, nor are there simple, clear endings presented like in conventional entertainment works with easily digestible direction or explanations.

In this Echoes of Life, based on an original novel personally written by Hanyu himself, we see the protagonist named “VGH-257 ‘Nova’” awaken alone in a ruined world and philosophically contemplate what his “life” is, what it means “to live.” Who Nova is, and what happened in this world’s past, these basic premises are revealed only in fragments throughout the story, and the audience gradually deepens their understanding bit by bit.

They come to grasp things like:

• “Nova seems to be a life form called VGH, created through genetic manipulation,”

• “Nova possesses a special ability to ‘feel words and letters as sound and carry them within himself,’”

• “In this world, there was once a great war that wiped out humankind,”
  “That war was between the VGH and humans,”

• “During that war, Nova’s ability with sound was treated as a weapon of mass destruction.”

The audience is left to feel their way toward this understanding.

Of course, on the creator’s side, there was immense thought and meticulous crafting. By carefully examining the performances themselves, the surrounding information, and the origins of the music used within the show, one could find many clues. For example, it was revealed during members-only livestreams on Yuzuru Hanyu’s official YouTube channel that “VGH” is an abbreviation for the coined term “Vanguard Genetic Human,” and that the “257” model number carries the nuance of surpassing the significant number “256” in the world of computing (1 byte = 2⁸ = 256 possible values). Even the events leading to Nova’s awakening were written in mirrored letters on the back of his costume.

By being familiar with the games from which “Mass Destruction -Reload-” and “Poem for Everyone’s Souls” originate (Persona 3), it also becomes easier to imagine the strange otherworldly space known as “The Room,” lined with white doors, or the mysterious “Guide” character who appears there. Likewise, by being familiar with the game STEINS;GATE, from which “GATE OF STEINER -Aesthetics on Ice” originates, one can better understand the science-fictional concept of “world lines,” in which multiple parallel worlds, each with its own possibilities, exist. Stage design, visuals, projection mapping, costumes, choreography, all of these were born out of Hanyu’s explanations. There is indeed a consistent creative intent residing in them. Yet, that intent is not expository, nor does it present any explicit “answer.”

When I watched the previous work RE_PRAY, I felt joy in trying to grasp such intent, in finding the hidden hints embedded throughout. It was like the kind of “theorizing fun” one might have with a recently trending anime such as Mobile Suit Gundam: Gundam GQuuuuuuX, where you infer hidden settings or truths from tiny clues: “this scene must be an homage to a past work, so it must carry this meaning,” or “from this line of dialogue, maybe this unseen event took place behind the scenes.” I felt as if Hanyu’s ice stories were a form of entertainment where you could enjoy exactly that kind of speculation. I assumed there had to be a single “answer” out there, one that I would eventually be able to discover.

But after experiencing this work, Echoes of Life, I realized it wasn’t like that at all.

In the final scene of Echoes of Life, after undergoing various philosophical contemplations, Nova finds his own “answer for life,” passes through the final door, and departs for somewhere. Regarding that final scene, in the official book THE BOOK “Echoes of Life”, released after the tour, Hanyu said:

“(About Nova’s answer for life) I’ll leave it to your imagination. In my mind, from the beginning, the ending is firmly decided, and probably the production team knows it too, but I think I’d rather not say it.”

As a creator, he has an intention, but he doesn’t want us to simply accept his answer. That is the message I felt. He is deliberately “not giving an answer.”

I believe that is precisely why, even now, Echoes of Life has not “ended” and why it feels like “art.” Hanyu and his team certainly have clear intent. But the final “answer” is entrusted to the hearts of those who watch. It is handed over to them.

Just as Mona Lisa or Guernica surely contain da Vinci’s and Picasso’s intentions, and just as learning the circumstances of their creation deepens our understanding of those intentions, ultimately, what matters most is what the heart of the one who sees it feels and how it is moved. The enigmatic expression of the Mona Lisa can give rise to many interpretations. The pain, grief, and anger depicted in Guernica can resonate even with future wars or tragedies the painter never knew. In the same way, Echoes of Life is completed only when each person finds their own “answer” within their own heart.

That is exactly what Hanyu was saying from the very beginning of the tour: “A performance where each of you can find your own answer, where you can think philosophically.” And perhaps because I am still in the midst of searching for that “answer,” the Echoes of Life inside me has not ended.

The resonance that Hanyu creates gives birth to the next resonance, that is the resonance (響き/ hibiki) [1] of life (Echoes of Life)

Recently, I had the opportunity, in an interview for another publication, to directly hear Yuzuru Hanyu’s words. We talked about his evolution as an artist through Echoes of Life and his thoughts on expression itself, and during that conversation, there were words that left a strong impression on me.

When speaking about how he chooses between expression through language and through bodily expression, such as figure skating, Hanyu said things like[2]:

“When I don’t want to limit it by language, or when I want to deliver it in a much broader framework, that’s when I use figure skating or physical expression.”
“It’s not about ‘these words are appropriate,’ or ‘I only want you to understand just this.’”
“When it comes to a ‘trigger that stirs emotions,’ physical expression is the best.”

Even if the creator’s intent in a certain scene is to express “sorrow,” those who watch it may receive “sorrow,” or they may instead receive “the strength to rise from sorrow.”

If you write “I was sad” in words, you become bound by the meaning the letters carry. But if you deliver it through a bodily expression infused with sorrow, because it is not as explicit as words, there is a greater degree of freedom in how it can be received by the audience. And for the creator too, rather than embedding only a single intention, it allows for a kind of depth where the half-unconscious feelings of “just that day, that moment” can also be carried within it. Hanyu, I think, has this sense that physical expression can be something larger and broader in scope.

In this Echoes of Life, there were programs —like Eclipse/blue and GATE OF STEINER -Aesthetics on Ice- — that, although they had certain fixed elements, were largely performed in an improvisational, once-in-a-lifetime way. In the final performance in Chiba, GATE OF STEINER was especially striking, perhaps because of the overwhelming emotion: there was even a scene where he circled the rink at incredible speed, almost like speed skating.

And this is also something possible precisely because figure skating is a sport: in Ballade No. 1 in G Minor, Op. 23, he performed the nearly 10-minute “Piano Collection” and then, immediately following it, challenged himself by skating the short program from the PyeongChang Olympics in its original layout. In the Hiroshima performance, it became a bittersweet performance, with repeated falls on the jumps, while in the Chiba finale, it became a flawless performance that even surpassed PyeongChang. It was a program that delivered, to the audience, the joys and sorrows unique to sports and unique to that very day.

These parts of the performance that differ from day to day, these different expressions, I feel, are what give the audience freedom, and for the performer, depth. Instead of presenting a single “answer,” it entrusts it to the hearts of the audience. What one sees, how one receives it, and what “answer” one carries away, these all differ by day and by person.

And then, by sharing each of those “answers,” or reflecting them in our daily lives, new expansions are born. Rather than being something that “ends once you’ve seen it,” it becomes something that “begins from having seen it.” I think that is precisely the concept of the “echo of life” (Echoes of Life).

That is why I feel that the resonance (響き/ hibiki) of Echoes of Life born from Yuzuru Hanyu didn’t simply spread out unchanged. Rather, it shook someone’s heart, gave birth to a new echo (響き/ hibiki), and as those echoes (響き/ hibiki) chained together, they spread outward in countless ways.

I myself traveled to all three cities, experiencing different things each day and holding many different feelings. During the Hiroshima performance, I also visited the Peace Memorial Park and the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum. Though I had known of it as knowledge, I was struck speechless before the harrowing records and the traces left behind.

And precisely because of that, in that day’s performance, I felt in Ballade No. 1 in G Minor, Op. 23, where he fell several times, the strength of human beings to rise again. And in Danny Boy, I felt the preciousness of peace, and my prayers for peace deepened. The experience of going there in person, together with the contemplation entrusted to me to seek my own “answer for life,” has, I feel, influenced my own life in no small way.

By telling these memories to someone else, or even by my daily actions changing a little, I feel as though the echo of life is spreading in my surroundings too. It may be a small change, but like the butterfly effect, perhaps even a tiny change can lead to a large difference in outcome. That’s what I think.

Echoes of Life does not end. It continues, while spreading the echoes of “Echoes of Life” outward—

Perhaps even the way I now live my days, simply hoping that the future might become even a little bit better, is something born from those still-continuing reverberations. I have yet to find any clear “answer for life” that I can put into words, but I have the sense that I will continue to spend time thinking about it.

If anyone reading this piece feels something new, or has a moment to face their own “answer for life,” I think that too will be part of the spreading of the echo of life (Echoes of Life). May this echo spread far, and for a long time to come!

 

Fumo-Fumo Editor-in-Chief ● Sports blogger, columnist. Through “Sports Watching, Sports Telling ~ Fumo-Fumo Column,” he carries out daily activities filled with love for various sports. He also conducted an interview with Yuzuru Hanyu for the August issue of the magazine SPUR.
 

NOTES
[1] Original: 羽生選手が生んだ響きが次の響きを生む それが命の響き (Echoes of Life) (Hanyū senshu ga unda hibiki ga tsugi no hibiki o umu sore ga inochi no hibiki (Echoes of Life)). 響き (hibiki) means resonance, reverberation, echo, sound that lingers. Some machine translations may give you “the sound born from Hanyu…” but “hibiki” refers to the sound that lingers.
[2] Fummo-fumu-san is referring to the interview with Yuzuru for SPUR Magazine, August 2025 issue. Link to original article here. Link to machine translation here.

---

 

 

 

[Wintek]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist*

 

[P. 68-73]

 

Noto Peninsula Reconstruction Support Charity Performance

Challenge (挑戦挑戦 – チャレンジ) [1]

On September 15, 2024, in Kanazawa City, the “Noto Peninsula Reconstruction Support Charity Performance” was held. It was conducted without an audience, and 53.66 million yen in streaming revenue and charity T-shirt sales were donated to Ishikawa Prefecture.

Spoiler

Centered around Yuzuru Hanyu, with Takahito Mura, Akiko Suzuki, and Satoko Miyahara appearing, the “Noto Peninsula Reconstruction Support Charity Performance – Challenge (チャレンジ)” was presented. On the day before, a skating class was held, inviting local children. On the day of the performance, the calligraphy club from Noto High School and the Wajima-based taiko drum group “Wajima-Wadaiko Toranosuke” also participated via live broadcast, performing together. In the opening, the four skaters appeared dignifiedly, wearing the charity T-shirts, skating to “Noto-koku Kirizo-sai” [能登國切蔵祭] [2]. With choreography by Akiko Suzuki, they powerfully expressed the heroic resonance of the taiko drums.

Takahito Mura performed “Sansan,” Akiko Suzuki performed “Hymne à l’amour,” and Satoko Miyahara performed “Stabat Mater.” Yuzuru Hanyu performed “Haru yo, Koi,” and he said:

“I think there are people who are hurting, and there are also people who are saying, ‘I’m doing well now.’ There are people in various positions. While thinking that, among those people, I really hoped that even just a little, the circle of smiles[3] could spread.”

Since his competitive days, Hanyu has been involved in supporting disaster-affected areas in various ways. This time, although the format was streaming, he spoke about the reason why he nevertheless chose to perform in Ishikawa Prefecture:

“As I thought, I really wanted to skate as close as possible to those who have been hurt, those who are feeling pain right now, and those who are troubled by various things. We, while skating, very much feel the power of that region, or the air of the place. So, thinking about the importance of that air, and hoping that even just a little from this place, as a kind of vibration, the air would move and reach everyone[4], I skated in this streaming performance.”

For the finale, everyone danced lightly together to “Que Sera Sera.” Hanyu, who himself truly likes Mrs. GREEN APPLE, said:

“This song itself has, I guess you could say, an Okinawan ‘nankurunaisa’ spirit[5], like, no matter what happens, you tell yourself, ‘it’s going to be okay,’ and you keep facing forward. Akiko Suzuki created the choreography for it, and I tried to express that feeling. In the solo part, I expressed each and every note closely with my body.”

When Hanyu visited the disaster-affected areas of Noto in June, he reportedly told the children he met there:

“No matter how painful things are, when the time comes, you just have to do something. It’s been over half a year since the earthquake, and I think you all are thinking about what you can do and many other things, but when the time comes, it comes, and there are also parts where you can only just think, ‘it can’t be helped.’ But within that ‘it can’t be helped,’ [6] I hope there will be lots of smiles, and all the earnestness of that moment packed in there.”

It was a performance where you could feel Hanyu’s kindness, unable to say irresponsibly “Just hang in there,” understanding the complex feelings that only those who have been through it can know, and yet still speaking gently, as if to say, “Even so, let’s not throw away hope, let’s keep looking forward.”

Text by: Editorial Department, Photos by: Toru Yaguchi (Figure Skating Life)

 

NOTES:

 

[1] The title includes the name in kanji, 挑戦 (Chōsen) and katakana, チャレンジ (Charenji). 挑戦 (Chōsen)  encapsulates the spirit of taking on a challenge or daring to do something that is difficult. This word conveys not only the attempt but also the courageous aspect of undertaking a task or goal that involves some level of difficulty or competition. It is often used in contexts where someone is striving to overcome obstacles or push their own limits. More information here.

[2] 能登國 (Noto-koku) – "Noto Province" or "Noto Region;" 切蔵 (Kirizo), the kanji literally mean 切 (kiri): "to cut" or "cutting," 蔵 (kura/zō), "storehouse" or "treasury," but it seems to be the name of a landmark or cultural figure; 祭 (sai),"festival." Together, it might be "Kirizo Festival of Noto Province."

[3] 笑顔の輪 (Egao no wa). “輪” (wa) literally means “circle,” and in Japanese, it often represents connection or community. The literal translation “circle of similes”  preserves this image of smiles radiating outward and linking people.

[4] 「波動として空気が動いて」(Hadō to shite kūki ga ugoite), iterally “for the air to move as a kind of wave (or vibration).” 

[5]「なんくるないさー精神」 “Nankurunaisa spirit”, this is an Okinawan expression roughly meaning “everything will be okay if you keep moving forward and doing your best.” Hanyu uses it in a warm, informal way to explain the emotional core of “Que Sera Sera.”

[6] 「しょうがない」(Shōganai), a culturally nuanced expression meaning “it can’t be helped,” but it does not imply resignation in a negative way. It is an acceptance of reality, paired with the idea of still doing one’s best within that reality.

 

---

 

[P. 74]

Facing “Conveying” with One’s Whole Heart and Soul

Photographer: Toru Yaguchi

The presence of mist quietly enveloped a historic skating rink in Kanazawa City. The chilled ice and the damp early autumn air met, and at my feet, a faint white haze rose. In the middle of it, the figure of Yuzuru Hanyu stood alone, quietly emerging. He was listening intently, attuned to the slightest difference between sound and glide.

And there, I encountered the answer I had been searching for all along.

Spoiler

For those whose everyday lives had been suddenly changed by a natural disaster, what kind of photograph could reach them? What should I capture, and how, so that it could truly touch their hearts? I had been carrying this question for a long time. In 2011, I stood on the site of the Great East Japan Earthquake as a newspaper photographer. Faced with the reality before me, I could do nothing but press the shutter. But even now, I still don’t know if those photographs truly supported anyone.

It was the same in 2023, when I photographed the first "notte stellata" performance in Miyagi. An ice show filled with prayers for the disaster area, while I recorded Hanyu and the other performers skating with all their strength, a small knot of doubt remained within me. Was I truly facing the act of "conveying"? And this time, when I accepted the task of photographing the 2024 Kanazawa charity performance for the Noto Peninsula earthquake, I once again came face-to-face with that same question.

If I could, I had wanted to ask Hanyu directly, as someone who had himself been affected by the Great East Japan Earthquake: "How should I convey it so that it reaches them?" But before I could even put that question into words, he had already shown me the answer, not with words, but through his very presence. On the ice, with his whole heart and soul.

The day before the performance. While the other performers were leaving the rink, Hanyu alone remained on the ice. It was for the scene in the opening, where he would skate to the sound of a local taiko drummer’s performance. He had sensed a slight misalignment between the recorded drumbeats and the timing of his own movements. He focused on that tiny discrepancy, something so small no one else would even notice.

Hanyu crouched down on the ice, almost kneeling, playing the drum recording on his smartphone, and listened intently. He moved his shoulders, traced the rhythm with his fingertips, as if to correct the minute mismatch between sound and motion, letting the sound seep into his body. Then, he stood and skated again. After finishing, he crouched once more with his smartphone in hand. He repeated this over and over. "God, I’m really bad at this…"

His voice, scolding himself, echoed in the quiet rink far louder than I expected. The allotted rink time was already about to run out, but Hanyu bowed his head to the staff and asked to continue practicing. No one objected. No one tried to leave. Everyone was captivated by that sight.

One of the event staff later told me: "Seeing him being so serious, for the sake of the disaster area, it was something I was truly grateful for. It really moved me." I felt exactly the same way. It wasn’t a performance. It wasn’t even rehearsal. It was nothing but prayer itself.

At that moment, I clearly realized something. What was needed in order to deliver an expression that should be conveyed was not "the same experience." There is no "trick" to it.

Right in front of me, someone who had experienced something similar—an expressive artist of the highest caliber in the world—was confronting the act of "conveying" with such pure, stubborn honesty. If you truly want to convey something—even if you cannot see who it will reach, even if you don’t know whether it will reach them—you give it everything. I had been lacking that resolve. I had underestimated what it really means to "convey."

On the day of the performance, right up until the opening act, Hanyu was in a narrow, dim corridor by the rink, earphones in, making small movements with his body as he repeated his imagery training. The space was barely wide enough for two people to pass each other, but it was filled with tension. In that figure, there was the same seriousness as in his competitive days. And when Hanyu stepped onto the ice, he skated single-mindedly, still confronting that tiny mismatch between sound and movement.

I don’t know whether he was satisfied with it himself. But in that moment—on his serious face and in his unwavering, powerful skating—I saw the figure of a person sincerely confronting the very act of "conveying." 

After finishing the opening act, as Hanyu left the ice, he passed right behind me and muttered quietly, "I was nervous…" This is someone who has faced the very highest stages in the world countless times. And yet, even in this charity performance, held mainly for streaming and in front of only a limited audience, he was nothing but utterly serious.

After the performance, I told Hanyu what I had felt. That seeing him like that, I finally felt like I had understood "the premise of conveying." And that, for me right now, it still feels difficult. Hanyu thought for a moment, then said, "I guess… I just started turning that way early on." I nodded, sensing his humility. But deep down, I couldn’t help but think: "That’s not all there is to it." What makes Hanyu remarkable is the strength of his will to keep choosing to "continue."

Starting to "turn that way" is one thing. But continuing to turn—to keep moving forward with the same determination, even on days when passion cools or when nothing seems to pay off—requires an unfathomable level of resolve and perseverance. Even standing at the very peak of the world, Hanyu continues to face "the act of conveying" in the same way. No matter the circumstances, he never gives up on trying to reach someone. 

On that quiet rink, Hanyu was alone, listening to the sound and presence of the ice, and kept skating. He must know better than anyone how difficult it is to convey something. He must also know that, no matter how much effort you give, there will be days it doesn’t reach anyone. And yet, he keeps skating. That figure felt as though it was speaking to me, "Even so… you do it." Believing that somewhere beyond that, there might be one single instant where it finally reaches someone, and that moment will make everything worthwhile.

Seeing that sincerity, I once again felt deep respect. I thought it was beautiful, the unglamorous, single-minded figure of someone simply trying to reach others. And I felt that perhaps everything about "conveying" begins from that place.

---

 

[Wintek]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist*

 

[P. 76-81]

Yuzuru Hanyu notte stellata 2025

 

Inspired by the hope he felt from the starry sky (notte stellata) he gazed upon in the darkness of a blackout the night of the Great East Japan Earthquake, Hanyu created this ice show to spread hope from the devastated Miyagi prefecture. This year, the third edition of the show, featuring special guest Mansai Nomura, was held at the Sekisui Heim Super Arena from March 7-9, 2025.

 

Spoiler

Yuzuru Hanyu notte stellata 2025

Performance on March 7

 

[Part 1]

1 Yuzuru Hanyu "Notte Stellata"

 

2 OPENING - All Skaters "Twinkling Stars of Hope"

 

3 Yuzuru Hanyu's Greeting

 

4 Rika Hongo "Sparrow"

 

5 Takahito Mura "Starting Over"

 

6 Keiji Tanaka "The Lonelyest"

 

7 Violetta Afanasieva "Breathe Underwater"

 

8 Jason Brown "Spiegel im Spiegel"

 

9 Javier Fernandez "Prometo"

 

10 Collaboration: Mansai Nomura, Yuzuru Hanyu, Shae-Lynn Bourne Turok, Satoko Miyahara, Akiko Suzuki, Takahito Mura, Keiji Tanaka "MANSAI Bolero x notte stellata"

 

[Part 2]

 

1. Yuzuru Hanyu x Mansai Nomura Collaboration "SEIMEI"

 

2. Violetta Afanasieva "Sing"

 

3. Akiko Suzuki "Songs My Mother Taught Me"

 

4. Jason Brown "The Legend of Tarzan"

 

5. Satoko Miyahara "Walking in the Air"

 

6. Shae-Lynn Bourne Turok "BOM BOM BOM"

 

7. Javier Fernandez "Puttin' on the Ritz"

 

8. Yuzuru Hanyu "Come Spring"

 

9. Finale "Song of Hope"

 

10. Grand Finale "Dancehall"

 

11. Yuzuru Hanyu's Greeting

 

---

 

[P. 82-83]

A Collaboration with Mansai Nomura Filled with Prayers for Repose and Rebirth

From the disaster-stricken region of Miyagi, the ice show "Yuzuru Hanyu notte stellata," which sends out "hope," was held again this March. This was its third year, and this time it welcomed special guest Mansai Nomura, bringing to life a collaboration program perfectly suited for a place of remembrance and prayer.

Spoiler

The opening was "Notte Stellata," the piece that shares its title with the show. "Notte Stellata" is Italian for "starry night," and as countless stars lit up the venue, Hanyu appeared, clad in a costume like the incarnation of a swan. His supple expressiveness, down to the very tips of his fingers, was breathtakingly beautiful, and this year… it seemed to carry an even softer afterglow than usual.

Next, to the music of the opening piece, "Twinkling Stars of Hope," the other performers who share his purpose took the ice. As the leader of the show, Hanyu addressed the audience:
"…For all that has been lost, and for all that is alive—I skate with prayers from the depths of my soul."

Rika Hongo, from Sendai, skated "Suzume" from the movie Suzume with moving emotional depth and careful expression, delivering a performance that truly reached the heart. Takahito Mura performed "starting over" by Sandaime J SOUL BROTHERS, his strong skating infused with the lyrics that sing of fleeting reality and hope for the future. Keiji Tanaka expressed many subtle emotional shifts through Måneskin’s "THE LONELIEST."

In the second act, Akiko Suzuki performed Dvořák’s "Songs My Mother Taught Me" with an expression overflowing with the joy of life. Satoko Miyahara followed with "Walking in the Air," her graceful skating flowing as though her blades themselves were making music.

Jason Brown, participating once again despite the upcoming World Championships, performed "Spiegel im Spiegel" with breathtaking spirals and Ina Bauers, his beautiful positions mesmerizing the audience.

Hanyu’s longtime friend Javier Fernández performed two solo numbers: "Prometo," where he displayed his ability to express the subtlest emotional nuances, and "Dancing on the Ritz," where he showed his mastery of skating technique as a light-hearted entertainer.

Violetta Afanasieva brought joy with her ever-thrilling hula hoop act, while Shae-Lynn Bourne, who also participated as a choreographer for the show, lifted the atmosphere with her familiar number "BOM BOM BOM," in the costume of a drum major.

At the end of the first act, special guest Mansai Nomura presented "MANSAI Boléro," first performed in 2011 as a requiem for the victims of the Great East Japan Earthquake, now, for the first time, performed in Tohoku.

A special stage was set up in the center of the rink. As the sound of dripping rain echoed, Nomura, in kariginu robes, crossed the bridge walkway and approached the stage. With the solemn toll of a bell, skaters dressed in monochrome—evoking the dead—appeared and lay upon the ice. Snow fell onto the stage.

To the phrases of Ravel’s "Boléro," Nomura performed his dance of requiem. And then, clad in a golden costume like celestial wings, Hanyu appeared on the rink, joining Nomura in a collaboration that intertwined kyōgen movements based on "Sanbasō"[1] with skating.

At the climax, the two spread their great sleeves like wings, leapt simultaneously, and the lights cut to black. The venue was engulfed in thunderous applause.

At the beginning of the second act, Hanyu and Nomura gave their first-ever joint performance of Hanyu’s signature "SEIMEI."

Nomura, as Abe no Seimei, the onmyōji, appeared on stage chanting spells:
 

"Appear, Yuzuru Hanyu, by the command of the law!"
 

With this, Hanyu, as a shikigami, was "summoned" onto the ice. The audience’s excitement reached its peak.

As Hanyu performed a quadruple Salchow and a quadruple toe-loop combination, Nomura’s Seimei circled the rink, chanting and dancing at each of the four directions, and in the finale, a pentagram appeared on the ice.

Speaking about this long-awaited collaboration, Hanyu said:
 

"…I was really, really nervous. Especially with ‘SEIMEI,’ I mean… I constantly felt this sort of dignity… right behind me. And there was this pressure that I absolutely couldn’t make a mistake. Honestly… it felt almost like the Olympics. That’s how tense I was while skating."

"Because Seimei is this perfect, mysterious presence so, precisely because of that, the shikigami has to move in a way that… well, befits one who’s been granted his power. Compared to when I usually skate ‘SEIMEI,’ I felt like I was given this role of skating… with my full strength, even more than usual. I imagined this story: I would fulfill my role, return to being just a paper doll, then be summoned again by his spell and be given another role… We built the program while imagining this story together."

"From the very start of creating notte stellata, I’d always talked with Mansai-san about wanting to collaborate one day. And knowing that one of those pieces—‘Boléro’—is a story of both requiem and rebirth, I just… I absolutely knew I wanted to do it. Now that it’s actually become reality, honestly… it still feels kind of like a dream. But… maybe, just a little bit… I feel like I was able to come a little closer to creating skating, and a show, that could truly be worthy of receiving and embracing the presence of Mansai Nomura.”[2]

As the leader of the show, he spoke of a deep sense of fulfillment.

At the end of the performance, Hanyu skated "Haru yo, Koi," followed by the finale "Song of Hope."

Though this closing structure has remained unchanged since the very first notte stellata, its weight seems to deepen with every passing year. The fellow performers resonate with Hanyu’s intention and prepare programs unique to this show.

Every year, at this time, notte stellata offers a precious opportunity to remember those who could not live on, and to reflect on the meaning of being alive.

May this show continue for years to come.

 

Text by Figure Skating Life Photos by Keiko Asakura

 

 

NOTES:

[1]  It is a Japanese theatrical dance, particularly within the traditions of Noh and Kabuki. Sambasō originates from the Noh performance Okina, which is a highly ritualized and sacred dance. In Kabuki, Sambaso is a short dance performed to purify the performance area before a new season or other special occasions.
[2] 受け入れる (Ukeireru) implies both "to accept" and “to receive or "to embrace" in a way that creates space for something.

---

 

[Wintek]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist*

 

[P. 94-97]

“BOW AND ARROW” MV

A miraculous collaboration

“BOW AND ARROW,” written by Kenshi Yonezu as the opening theme for the TV anime Medalist.

Spoiler

In the music video, Yuzuru Hanyu, who received an offer to appear, skated a program he choreographed himself, making his long-held dream of collaborating with Yonezu come true.

With 23.72 million views on YouTube as of July 5, 2025, the MV created an enormous reaction. We interviewed Yonezu himself, along with the MV’s production team, about this miraculous collaboration.

 

---

Special Interview: Kenshi Yonezu

“What I felt rinkside was an overwhelming passion for figure skating.”

Yonezu visited a rink in Sendai for the MV shoot, performing alongside Hanyu on the ice. Afterwards, he also sat down for a one-on-one conversation with him. We asked Yonezu for his impressions of meeting Hanyu for the first time and of watching him skate live.

 

 

Spoiler

Q: In another interview, you said, “I figured I’d take a chance and offer it to Yuzuru Hanyu.” What made you think of reaching out to him?

When I’d finished creating the song and was thinking about how to do the MV. Since we were making it, I wanted someone who actually skates to appear in it. So then it was like, “Who would that be?” And naturally, if it could be Hanyu-san, that’d be amazing, right? We were just chatting and joking around about it with the staff. But then it turned out that director Kyotaro Hayashi and producer Mizuki Ohno had actually worked on one of Hanyu-san’s shows before, and I remember thinking, “Wait, maybe this could actually happen.”

Okuyama Daishi, who shot the MV for “Spinning Globe,” had experience filming while skating for his movie Boku no Ohisama, and he also joined this project. All these pieces fell into place in a way that honestly felt miraculous, and that’s how it became reality.

Q: On your Instagram Live, you said you were “I was shocked when Hanyu-san agreed.” I imagine he was equally shocked to get the offer. Before you worked together, what was your image of Yuzuru Hanyu? And did that change once you collaborated?

To me, he was someone who was accomplishing extraordinary things on the other side of the TV screen. I never imagined I’d actually meet him. His name, his presence when he skates, he felt almost unreal, like a character out of a manga. Honestly, I probably didn’t even think of him as someone who existed in the same world as the rest of us.

But when I actually met him, he was incredibly approachable, easy to talk to, a refreshing, good-natured young man.

Q: Hanyu-san choreographed the program himself and even proposed the short-program version for the MV. What did you feel, watching him express your music through skating? And what left an impression on you during filming?

What struck me most was how precisely he listened to the music while choreographing, and how technically advanced that must be in the context of skating. But above all, what I felt most strongly from rinkside was his overwhelming passion[1] for figure skating.

Even when the choreography looked perfect from my perspective, he wasn’t satisfied. He’d skate it over and over, shouting to fire himself up, and keep challenging himself. Watching that, I could only think, “This is the quality of someone who became the best in the world.”

Q: I’ve heard Hanyu-san has been a fan of yours since your “Hachi” days. When you talked with him, did you feel any shared ground or common sensibilities as fellow artists?

As I said, I almost didn’t believe he was a real person (laughs), so at first, I was just surprised that he’d been listening to my music. But as we talked, I started to see that even though our fields are different, there’s a shared philosophy in our approach to expression. It felt like we were kindred spirits[2] who’d just happened to live far apart until now.

This time, we only really talked about things related to the MV, but since it turns out we both like similar games, if I get to meet him again, I’d love to just talk casually about stuff like that.

Q: This was your first time filming on a skating rink. What was that experience like?

This time, my role was “the bow” in relation to “the arrow,” which was the skater. So I went onto the rink without skates, just wearing anti-slip covers. Even so, I felt like I completely lost my ability to move. It gave me an even deeper respect for Hanyu-san, who moves so freely over the ice.

Q: What was your impression when you saw the finished MV?

I honestly felt, “This is exactly what it needed to be.” Usually, even if something turns out well, there’s always this part of me that nitpicks and thinks, “Maybe it could’ve been better.” But this time, with this MV, I didn’t feel that at all.

Q: Before Medalist, what was your impression of figure skating as a sport?

Before I discovered Medalist, I didn’t really have any particular feelings about it. I just thought of it like most people do, as a kind of national event that gets everyone excited during the Olympics. Where I grew up, there wasn’t even a skating rink nearby, so I guess I even felt a kind of distance from it, like it was unrelated to my world.

But then I was drawn in by how incredibly compelling Medalist is as a manga. It gave me a chance to rethink figure skating on a personal level, and I’m really glad for that.

Q: Many skaters say “BOW AND ARROW” is a song they really connect with, that they keep listening to. Other than the sense of speed, what were you conscious of when you composed it?

I aimed to make it a song where the chill of the ice and the passion of those who skate on it coexist.

That said, I do feel that the BPM ended up being a little too fast for an actual skating program (laughs). If I ever write another song with this kind of theme, I’d like to create something that would really shine when skated to.

Q: When we interviewed and filmed Hanyu-san last summer, he played your music the whole time during the shoot. And even Mao Asada used your song “Spinning Globe” in her ice show last year. How do you feel when skaters or dancers say they want to perform to your music?

I’ve been making music for years, always with the goal of writing pop songs. Lately, though, I’ve been hearing my music appreciated from angles I never expected. Every time that happens, it really makes me glad I’ve kept going for so long.

Music, in the extreme sense, is something people could live with or without. And maybe that’s why those voices of appreciation become such a real source of motivation to keep creating.

Q: Finally, do you have any message for Yuzuru Hanyu, as a fellow “creator of expression”?

I don’t know if I’m really worthy of the word “fellow,” but… next time, let’s talk about games.

 

※ BPM: A unit of tempo in music, indicating the number of quarter-note beats per minute.

 

Text by Yumeko Yamamoto / Photo by Kyotaro Hayashi

---

“BOW AND ARROW”
Lyrics, Composition, Arrangement: Kenshi Yonezu. The jacket illustration of Medalist protagonist Inori Kessoku was drawn by Yonezu himself. The song was digitally released on January 27, 2025. The MV featuring Yuzuru Hanyu was released on March 5, and on June 11, it was included as part of the double A-side single “Plazma / BOW AND ARROW.”

---

Profile

Born March 10, 1991, in Tokushima Prefecture. Began his career in 2009 under the name “Hachi,” and in 2012, started working under his real name, Kenshi Yonezu. In 2018, “Lemon,” the theme song for the drama Unnatural, became a million-seller. Along with Foorin’s “Paprika,” it dominated the yearly charts, and he made his first appearance on NHK’s Kōhaku Uta Gassen. In 2023, “KICK BACK,” the opening theme for the anime Chainsaw Man, became the first Japanese-language song ever to receive Gold certification from the RIAA in the U.S., gaining international recognition. In 2025, he completed a world tour across Asia, Europe, and the U.S., drawing 440,000 attendees in total.

NOTES

[1]「巨大な執念」(Kyodaina shūnen) “執念” literally means tenacity or a single-minded fixation. By adding “巨大” (huge, massive), Yonezu emphasizes not just dedication but a relentless drive that borders on obsession. It conveys his deep respect for Hanyu’s uncompromising approach to skating.

[2] 「同志」(Dōshi) , “comrade” or “kindred soul/ spirit”.

[P. 98-100]

Hayashi Kyōtarō – Video Director & Photographer

From “Graceful” to “Strong”: How my view of figure skating changed
Through the eyes of the music video director: Yuzuru Hanyu as a subject.

We asked him about what happened on set, the production process, and how the MV came together.

 

Spoiler

―When you were first asked to create the MV for Kenshi Yonezu’s “BOW AND ARROW”, what kind of initial concept did you have in mind?

When an MV offer comes in, it usually starts with the producer giving me the artist’s name, the song, and the schedule, and I decide whether to take it. This time too, producer Ōno (Mizuki) let me hear the song and gave me the orientation.

Since this was written by Yonezu-san as the theme for the anime “Medalist”, of course, we talked about skating, but also about things like the teacher-student relationship, the act of passing something down, and “watching over someone as they struggle.” I thought it would be nice to bring those elements out.

I also teach at a university, so I said, “I really understand that feeling,” and we exchanged thoughts like that as I developed my own interpretation.

Apparently, Yonezu-san himself has never skated, but from that outsider’s position, he wrote this song with the perspective of teaching and passing something on. We decided to make the visual axis of the video this metaphor, the relationship between the bow and the arrow (the title).

―How did you feel when you learned Yuzuru Hanyu would be in it?

We’d been throwing out different ideas beforehand. Things like focusing on craftsmen or creators instead of skating, or emphasizing the speed of the music.

At first, we were only half-serious about the idea of Hanyu-san appearing, so my original plan was to create a video focusing on the skate blades. But as discussions went on, we thought, “No, this really should be Hanyu-san.”

Of course, there was also a lot of “But isn’t that impossible?” talk… But Ōno-san had produced Hanyu-san’s ice shows, and I’d been involved once before in directing the video effects for “GIFT,” so we thought, “Maybe there’s a chance.” That’s how we decided to make the offer.

―Yonezu-san and Hanyu-san both said, “No way,” about this collaboration.

Right. It really was a feeling of, “There’s no way this is actually happening…”

―Once you knew Hanyu-san would appear, how did you plan to film it?

Regardless of whether he appeared or not, I’d always wanted to avoid making it look like a typical “ice show” video. I wanted to create visuals that you don’t often see in figure skating. That’s why I initially thought focusing on the skate blades was a good idea.

As for why I decided to bring in Ōkuyama Hiroshi (cinematographer), it’s because I personally can’t skate, so I can’t step onto the rink. But he could. I thought he could skate alongside Hanyu and film him from there. We also brought in another cameraman who normally shoots skateboarding and roller skating, he’s a former hockey player. Those two got on the ice and filmed.

Normally, figure skating is shot from outside the rink, from a distance. But this time, we prioritized filming from inside, skating in parallel with him.

―Was the blue costume color specified from the beginning?

Not in detail, but even from the very start, when Yonezu-san first asked me, he said, “I kind of imagine something blue.”

He even said, “Blue images are kind of your thing, Hayashi-san.” (laughs) And since I do often use blue in my work, it naturally came together that Hanyu-san would wear a blue costume.

―When was your first meeting with Hanyu-san?

We actually didn’t meet until the day of filming. Up until then, the producer was handling all the communication. Because the song was about the length of a short program, Hanyu-san even made a video of himself skating his proposed choreography and sent it to us. When I first saw it, I was… honestly awestruck. I panicked a little (laughs).

―You received that video about a week before filming, right?

That’s right. I had already been talking with Ōkuyama-kun, but when we saw it, we thought, “We might not be able to capture this properly with the current setup,” and ended up bringing in about six extra cameramen.

―What was your first impression when you saw that program?

How should I put it… Yonezu-san’s music has such a sense of speed, so I thought, “If we can just capture Hanyu-san skating big and fast, we’ll be able to edit it into a seamless flow.” I honestly assumed he wouldn’t have much time to create a program specifically for this project. But then he sent us something with this beautifully built narrative structure. That was the first surprise. And even to an amateur’s eye, it was obviously a tough program (laughs). For him to come to us and say, “This is what I’ll do,” was just incredible. We were all awestruck (laughs).

―What was he like on set?

I’d met him once during “GIFT,” so it wasn’t our first meeting. It was very casual, like “Long time no see!” He even greeted us like, “Hey, it’s been a while!”

But once filming started, he was completely focused. As soon as he stepped on the ice, it was like he became a different person, single-mindedly facing himself. We just filmed him as he did that.

―What was your image of figure skating before this project?

“Graceful,” I suppose. I’ve never done dance myself. I’ve played sports, but nothing like ballet or figure skating, which are all about showing beautiful movement. My impression was that it was all lightness and elegance. But this project changed that image completely. What struck me was how “strong” it was.

When he jumps and lands, there’s this massive thud. Like the sound of the earth rumbling. Yet in that exact moment, his pose is beautifully clear, light, and elegant. That contrast left a huge impression on me.

―What was Hanyu-san like as a subject?

He’s spent years showing himself on stage, so he’s extremely skilled at expressing himself through his entire body, not just his face. That strength was overwhelming.

―Had you ever filmed an athlete for an MV before?

No, never. I’ve filmed dancers, but shooting in an environment as unique as figure skating was a first.

―How was filming on the rink?

We filmed late at night, but I felt like I could’ve stayed there forever. Every angle, every shot gave me a different perspective, I just wanted to keep watching him from up close.

―I heard it was a long shoot.

Yes, it was quite long. Yonezu-san was there on the day we filmed Hanyu-san.

We even shot scenes with them both on the ice together. While we filmed Hanyu-san, Yonezu-san just stood there watching him the whole time.

Hanyu-san nailed things in a single take, over and over. We made sure to capture everything without missing a moment and to avoid tiring him out too much, shooting from multiple angles at once. Then we’d reposition and repeat. That’s what made it so time-consuming.

Yonezu-san didn’t have to be there for Hanyu-san’s skating scenes, but I think he really wanted to see it in person, so he came early.

―Looking back, what do you think the chemistry between Yonezu and Hanyu created?

This MV is actually quite simple. But it showed me that when you put two of the strongest people together, even something simple can be extraordinary. Usually, with music videos, it’s important to add story or dramatic shifts. But in this case, their expressive power alone was enough. All we had to do was connect their performances smoothly through editing.

―Was the “short program version” planned from the beginning?

It came up in a vague way, like “It might be nice to have that,” but we only became certain—“Yes, we need to make a separate version with just Hanyu”—on the actual shoot day.

―How did you shoot the scene where Yonezu spins on a mirror-like surface?

We sprayed water over a parking lot and shot it there. Since Yonezu-san himself didn’t move much in this MV, we attached the camera to a car and spun it around him to give him a sense of motion that could match Hanyu-san’s speed.

―What impressed you most during filming?

Hanyu-san didn’t have this attitude of “I’ll only do this once.”He was completely respectful of the crew and said, “I’ll do it as many times as you need.” He kept performing until we got the best shots.

Because he moves so fast, focusing and adjusting angles was difficult. We had him repeat things over and over, and he did it all without the slightest change in expression. His stamina is incredible.

―How has the response to the MV been?

Looking at YouTube comments and X, I feel like we really managed to do what people imagined, and even go beyond that. Hanyu Yuzuru starring in the MV for Medalist’s theme song, it’s the kind of thing you can imagine in your head, but turning that dream into something real, with the combined power of the two of them and all the staff, was really rewarding. We expected a strong reaction, but there was also pressure not to mess it up. Both Yonezu and Hanyu were equally important, we had to maintain a perfect balance between them and keep the quality high.

―Was there anything else you paid special attention to in the editing?

Mainly their “positions,” you could say. Each of them embodied the bow and the arrow.

Yonezu was the bow; Hanyu was the arrow. It was like a teacher and student relationship, one sending, one being sent forth. We edited carefully to reflect that dynamic. Also, this was pure coincidence, but the editor for this MV actually had experience in figure skating. If I’d edited it alone, it might not have flowed so smoothly. But he suggested things like, “This is how this jump should connect,” adding a perspective that only a skater could bring. That made the video feel seamless.

―That sounds like fate.

Yes. I think this MV came together because of so many overlapping connections like that.

―If you could film Hanyu-san again, what would you want to do?

What Ōkuyama-kun filmed—skating right alongside him on the ice—isn’t something you see often. Figure skating is usually viewed from a distance. I’d like to film him again in a way that feels that close, like you’re skating right there with him. But honestly, if I get to work with Hanyu-kun again, I’ll be happy no matter what (laughs).

―Did you get to talk to Hanyu-san after the shoot?

A little. He’s so friendly, he greeted us cheerfully after it was all over. He even asked, “Did you get what you needed?” That really left an impression.

―Did you talk with Yonezu or Hanyu again after the MV was completed?

Hanyu-san gave some comments and revision notes by email after watching it. I didn’t talk to him directly much, but I think the producer might have. With Yonezu-san, we watched the test screening together, exchanged our thoughts, and said, “This turned out great.” We were both satisfied.

―Lastly, do you have a message for Hanyu-san?

“Let’s do this again,” I guess (laughs).

Text by Yumeko Yamamoto (山本夢子) Photos by courtesy of Kyotaro Hayashi (林豐太阴)

 

PROFILE

 

Born in Tokyo in 1989. Film director, photographer, and part-time lecturer at Tama Art University. Winner of the Special Prize at the 2016 Venice Biennale, he has worked on music videos for numerous artists, including Gen Hoshino's "Pop Virus" and "Fushigi," Kenshi Yonezu's "TEENAGE RIOT," "M Hachishichi," and "RED OUT," as well as the opening theme for the NHK morning drama "Okaeri Mone" and corporate branding films. His first exhibition, "Honourably," is currently on view at Canon Gallery S in Shinagawa until August 6th.

 

 

Kenshi Yonezu's "BOW AND ARROW" Music Video

 

The music video for "BOW AND ARROW," a collaboration between Yuzuru Hanyu and Kenshi Yonezu, has generated a lot of buzz. Yonezu sings with a dignified presence against a vast sky as his backdrop, while Hanyu performs a fast-paced skating routine choreographed by himself. Yonezu represents the bow, while Hanyu represents the shot arrow, portraying the world of the anime "Medalist" and the song through beautiful blue images.

 

Producer: Mizuki Ohno

Video Director: Kyotaro Hayashi

Director of Photography: Hiroshi Okuyama

 

[P. 101-103]

Daishi Okuyama – Director of Photography

"I want to keep chasing after his back as a fellow artist"

Daishi Okuyama, who was in charge of filming on the ice, speaks not only as a cameraman but also as someone who has experienced figure skating himself, about the “heat” he felt from Yuzuru Hanyu. He shared with us what he gained by being exposed to that intensity, along with what the filming site was like.

Spoiler

― How did you get the offer to do the on-ice filming?

About a month before the shoot, I got this kind of casual message from (director) Kyotaro Hayashi: “Hey, I’m going to be filming Yuzuru Hanyu for Kenshi Yonezu’s new music video, want to do it with me?” (laughs)

I replied, “I’ll do whatever I can. How do you want me to be involved?” And he said, “Kind of like DP, I guess.” In other words, as Director of Photography. He said he wanted me to supervise how the skating should be filmed, regardless of how much I would actually handle the camera.

I’d filmed a skating movie before (Boku no Ohisama), and Kyotaro had watched it. When I heard he reached out because of that, I really wanted to answer that call. I honestly accepted it pretty casually at first, but once I started hearing the details, I thought, “Wait… we’re really filming Hanyu-san?” (laughs)

At first, the main concept was to focus on footage of Yonezu-san singing, and then Hanyu-san would first appear with just shots of his feet, and later it would be revealed that it’s him. Then, jump and spin shots would be inserted.

So, we decided to prepare for that. We rented a rink in Tokyo twice for test shoots. We tried mounting a large camera on something like a sled and pushing it with two people, and we also tried skating while holding the camera.

― After that, you received a video from Hanyu-san himself performing, right?

As producer Mizuki Ohno had several meetings with Hanyu-san, apparently Hanyu-san said, “This is about the length of a short program, so maybe I should just make it a short program.”
Ohno-san casually replied, “If you do that, everyone will be thrilled.”

And then, we really got a video of Hanyu-san skating a full short program to the song. He filmed it himself and even edited it, I think, and it was just amazing.

At the same time, my reaction was, “Oh no, this is going to be tough” (laughs). Because if he was going to skate a full short program, it would be absolutely impossible to chase him all the way through while matching his speed. We’d have to set up some cameras around the rink as well.

So, we first secured coverage from outside the rink, then decided we’d do attacking[1], close-follow shots afterwards. We urgently brought in more camera operators.

On the day of filming, we first filmed the short program from outside the rink. After that, I and a hockey player who was assisting did sled and close-follow shots.

― The sled must have been hard to handle with the centrifugal force when turning, right?

Exactly. At first, the sled was one of our top candidates. But when we tried it, it just couldn’t turn sharply at all. So, we decided to limit its use.

For example, after the spin there’s a step sequence, and it ends with a Biellmann spin. We decided to only use the sled for those. I’m so glad we did test shoots.

Aside from that, I remembered this new camera that had come out about two years earlier. You wear the camera body like a backpack, and the lens can be separated and held in your hand, kind of like an ice hockey stick.

I think in the making-of video shown during Hanyu-san and Yonezu-san’s talk, you can see a bit of me filming like that. That filming method wouldn’t have been possible if we’d done this shoot earlier, so it was only possible now.

― What was your first reaction when you saw the short program Hanyu-san sent?

It was like, “This is insanely cool. Oh no, this is too good.” He’d captured rhythms and beats that only someone who truly loves that music could catch, and matched every move to the music perfectly[2]. He even incorporated the lyrics, like adding a bow-drawing motion.

For skating fans it was a dream come true, but even people who aren’t fans would feel how amazing it was. I thought it was incredible how Hanyu-san’s effort and Yonezu-san’s music created this universality. And I was just happy to be part of it.

― How did Hanyu-san look to you, seeing him up close as someone who used to skate?

I skated at Shin-Yokohama (now KOSÉ Shin-Yokohama Skating Center) for about six and a half or seven years, but I quit around middle school. I only went because I tagged along with my older sister, so I never skated seriously. Back then, there were almost no boys skating, so just going to the rink made me stand out, it was fun just being there (laughs).

One memory I have is seeing top skaters at the same rink and thinking even as a kid, “Wow, their speed is incredible.” But I also thought, “Well, they’re adults, and they’re bigger, so that’s why.” Now that I’m an adult myself, standing on the ice alone with Hanyu-san, it was overwhelming. On TV, yes, you can tell he’s fast, but because he’s so smooth, it almost looks effortless.

But seeing him live, every single movement has this weight and force to it. That’s something you can only feel in person. And if you can’t capture that in the footage, you’ve failed.

Since I was specially allowed into a space normally off-limits to anyone but the skaters, I was nervous thinking about how I would frame those shots. The night before, during the angle check, Hanyu-san even skated a bit for us. I got to test following him, and his speed and power were just incredible. That’s when I thought, “I have to commit fully to capturing this with my camera.”

― What was it like filming him as a cameraman?

If you just let Hanyu-san skate freely and had him enter his jumps at an easy filming speed, you wouldn’t get good shots.

I’d ask, “Could you take this route instead?” or “A little slower here,” but if he slowed down, it would throw off his rhythm and prevent him from reaching where he needed to be. Of course, I understood that, but even before I had to say it, Hanyu-san understood too. He’d say, “Okay, got it,” and adjust.

For example, for the cut where I filmed his profile with the sled on the lyric “Umaretekitan da” (“I was born”), I asked him to adjust his route quite a bit. He followed it while also calculating how he’d appear on camera.

That’s something unique to figure skaters, not just chasing points, but thinking about expression and presentation too. I really felt like we created those shots together. That was thanks to both Kyotaro and Hanyu-san. I was honored to be included in that.

Also, since Hanyu-san supervises the visuals for his own ice shows, I think he also has that perspective of someone who’s on the filming and production side.

― What requests did Director Hayashi give you for the shoot?

When I first got the offer from Kyotaro, I honestly wondered, “What does he even want from me?” I respect him so much—his work is amazing—and I even thought, “Maybe someone without skating experience could film things we’ve never seen before.”

When I asked him why he wanted me, he said, “I just want to push it further.” He wanted the speed of the music, the imagery of the bow and arrow, all of it, to come through in the video.

When we thought about how to do that, we realized it meant getting as close to Hanyu-san as possible. But that’s also the hardest and most dangerous thing. I think it’s much scarier for the skater than for us. Imagine having someone following right behind you holding a pole, in dim lighting, no less.

And yet Hanyu-san never lost focus, never lost that heat. He just kept going. That was only possible because it was him.

― From a skater’s perspective, what impressed you most?

His technique is obviously otherworldly—I’d seen his Olympic programs live when he won gold—but what shocked me most was his stamina. Filming required him to jump again and again, spin again and again. It’s not like in competition, where you just do it once and you’re done.

Even with breaks, from my experience, once you go into a warm room, your body stiffens, and when you go back out into the cold rink, it’s hard to move again. Plus, changing equipment and lighting takes time, filming with or without Yonezu-san takes time too.

Yet through all that, Hanyu-san kept himself in perfect condition, ready to skate at any moment. His stamina and mental strength were just… unreal. Even in the waiting room, you’d see him moving, jumping, warming himself up so he wouldn’t get cold. We filmed for six or seven hours straight. Maintaining that peak the whole time, it was a little scary. Truly incredible.

― What was the atmosphere like on set?

At first, the tension was intense. We started filming from outside the rink. Kyotaro didn’t even hold a camera at first, he just watched everything on the monitors and used walkie-talkies to coordinate with the camera crew.

Because we couldn’t afford to miss a single miraculous moment, there was this shared nervousness. And Hanyu-san wasn’t approaching it like a music video at all, he was challenging it as if it were a competition.

I think because I used to skate, I could really feel how seriously he was coming at it, and that fired me up too. There was even talk of making a version that was just the short program, so we were filming in a state of deep focus.

But as we went on, Hanyu-san started talking with us and lightened the atmosphere. That really helped the whole crew. Yonezu-san also came in early and watched Hanyu-san skating alone. I didn’t hear what they talked about, but they were deep in conversation. I thought they must be close, but it turns out that was their first meeting, which shocked me.

― You and Hanyu-san are about the same age, right?

I think he’s one grade above me.

During the test shoot, Hanyu-san suddenly asked me:
“Where did you skate?”
“What level did you reach?”
“Who was your coach?”

He just fired off questions one after another, and I was thinking, “Ah, he’s going to see right through me” (laughs). I guess because there aren’t many cameramen in Japan with skating experience, he was curious what kind of background I had. I imagine he probably does the same with younger skaters, just casually chatting with them like that. I really think his personality, his way of motivating himself, and his mental strength are what made this MV possible.

― Did you have a theme or focus when filming?

Pretty much everyone in Japan has seen Hanyu-san skate. But most of it has been competition footage. I wanted to capture something different. This time, we wanted Yonezu’s fans to experience Hanyu’s skating, and Hanyu’s fans to experience Yonezu’s music.

So, we talked about how to frame the skating so even non-skating fans would feel its power. There’s this photographer, Ryan McGinley. He’s known for fashion photography, but a few years ago, he shot Olympic swimmers. The way he shot them was nothing like conventional sports photography, it was stunning. Not during competition, but from angles you’d never see in a broadcast.

Kyotaro wanted the same kind of newness, to capture angles that even sports fans had never seen. Being able to step into that space, right on the rink, and film Hanyu-san up close, it felt like he really became the arrow, with Yonezu-san as the bow.

This shoot made me realize there are still new ways and tools to film. And it made me want to keep searching for new perspectives, no matter what I’m filming.

― Will we see more skating footage from you in the future?

If I get the chance, yes. I had so much fun doing this, I’d love to keep going. Maybe more skating cameramen will appear in the future, and equipment will keep evolving. But I don’t want to lose to that, I want to keep pushing myself. I should probably start practicing skating again though, at least enough not to get injured (laughs).

― Lastly, a message for Hanyu-san?

Getting to witness that drive—to push yourself to the limit and skate something no one’s ever seen before—taught me so much.

Honestly, after making my skating movie, I felt like I’d filmed everything I needed to film. But through this shoot, it was like Hanyu-san told me: “No, you’ve still filmed nothing yet.” I want to keep chasing after his back. Not as a skater (laughs), but as a fellow artist.

 

Text by Yumeko Yamamoto  Photos courtesy of Kyotaro Hayashi

 

The DVD and Blu-ray of Okuyama's directorial work "My Sun" will be released on August 2nd. "When I was taking skating lessons, there were few boys and gender bias was still prevalent. I thought that by depicting that era, I could highlight the values of the time. The making-of footage shows Ikematsu Sosuke practicing, so I think skating fans will also enjoy it."

 

PROFILE

 

Born in Tokyo in 1996. In 2018, he won the Best New Director Award at the 66th San Sebastian International Film Festival for his feature-length directorial debut, "I Hate Jesus." In 2021, he was selected as the executive director of HERMÈS's film "HUMAN ODYSSEY - A Journey Through Creation. Vol. 1." In 2023, he directed, filmed, and edited the music video for Kenshi Yonezu's "[Spinning] Globe." His commercial film debut, "My Sun," was officially selected for the "Un Certain Regard" section at the 77th Cannes Film Festival and was released nationwide in the fall of 2024, generating significant buzz.

 

NOTES:

[1] 攻めた映像 (semeta eizō). Literally “attacking shots.” They were bold and risky, not just technically close.
[2] 全部音ハメ (zenbu oto hame). Literally “he pinned every move to the sound.”

 

[P. 104-107]

Kenshi Yonezu

TV Anime Medalist Opening Theme Song
"BOW AND ARROW" MV

Commentary on Yuzuru Hanyu’s Skating

By writer Hitomi Hasegawa

On March 5, the music video for “BOW AND ARROW” was released on Kenshi Yonezu’s YouTube channel. Below is the full official commentary by a specialist writer explaining Yuzuru Hanyu’s self-choreographed program and performance.

 

Spoiler

The collaboration of Kenshi Yonezu and Yuzuru Hanyu

Both of them—Yonezu and Hanyu—read the original Medalist manga thoroughly, and out of that came the music video for “BOW AND ARROW.”

In Yonezu’s music, and in Hanyu’s skating, behind each work lies an overwhelming depth of feeling and intensity. We may never be able to fully understand all of it.

Even so, there are things that we can grasp.

That this, without a doubt, is the ultimate and full-force masterpiece of Kenshi Yonezu and Yuzuru Hanyu, as they are at this moment.

Hanyu is the one and only skater who, after defending his Olympic title in the men’s singles event after six years, became the sole skater in history to achieve the “Super Slam”—winning all six major championships at both the senior and junior levels, including the Olympics and World Championships.

And this man calls Kenshi Yonezu “a god.”

He has been a fan since the “Hachi” era, saying that Yonezu’s music has pierced straight into his heart, and that from him he has received courage—courage so immense that it cannot even be summed up by the single word “courage.”

What such a person has now brought into the world is his own ultimate masterpiece as a skater: “BOW AND ARROW.” Here, we will look at what kind of work this is, and what meaning and feelings it contains.

A program choreographed by Hanyu himself

The first time Hanyu ever choreographed a program for himself (“self-choreo”) was in 2022. Since then, he has showcased his own self-choreographed works in his ice shows and on his YouTube channel.

Those programs had no competition-like rules: the program length (duration), the jumps or spins to include, all of it was entirely up to him.

In contrast, “BOW AND ARROW” is choreographed as if it were a short program—as if it were a program to be skated in competition—making it fundamentally different from his previous self-choreo works.

In “BOW AND ARROW,” Hanyu incorporates high-difficulty elements in accordance with current figure skating rules and performs them with full force.

Choreographing it as a short program (competition program)

Why did Hanyu choreograph “BOW AND ARROW” as if it were a short program, even though he is not competing?

It’s because “BOW AND ARROW” is 2 minutes 50 seconds long, which is close to the required performance time for a short program, where skaters must finish between 2:40 and 2:50.

In competition, even a one-second deviation from the time limit results in a deduction. Therefore, if “BOW AND ARROW” were performed exactly as it is, it would incur a penalty.

So, in the MV, Hanyu chose to remain still for about 4 seconds after the music begins, not moving right away.

As per the rules: “Skating time is measured from the moment the skater begins to move or skate until the moment they come to a complete stop at the end of the program” (Technical Regulations, Article 502).

Thus, by waiting 4 seconds before starting and stopping a few seconds before the music ends, Hanyu keeps his skating time within the 2:50 limit.

What kind of program is it?

So what exactly is this fully competition-style program, “BOW AND ARROW”? Let’s break it down step by step.

Here are the elements (the seven technical elements) that Hanyu himself listed on X: https://x.com/YUZURUofficial_/status/1897255288820129840

Below, we’ll go through these elements and other highlights.

Sit Twizzle

A few seconds after the music begins, there’s a move where he stays low in a crouched position, spinning rapidly as he travels across the ice.

This is the move that Hanyu referred to in “Kenshi Yonezu × Yuzuru Hanyu – BOW AND ARROW Talk” as “the move I use as a kind of signature,” often called a “sit twizzle.”

When 17-year-old Hanyu first competed at the 2012 World Championships in Nice—his debut Worlds, where he won bronze—he included it as part of his step sequence in his free skate “Romeo and Juliet” (commonly known as “Nice Romeo and Juliet”).

Later, in his exhibition program “WHITE LEGEND” at the 2014 Sochi Olympics, he showcased it in a smooth and lingering way.

But the sit twizzle in “BOW AND ARROW” is fierce, spun with explosive force, and at tremendous speed.

We have never seen a sit twizzle like this before. From the very start, this “blazing-fast sit twizzle” builds excitement for the program to come.

4Lz (Quadruple Lutz)

The first jump he performs is the quadruple Lutz.

The 4Lz is one of the most difficult jumps in skating, and only a handful of skaters in the world can successfully land it in competition.

Hanyu was the first Japanese skater to ever land a 4Lz in official competition, doing so in October 2017, during the Grand Prix series in Russia, in the free skate of his iconic program “SEIMEI.”

That jump earned him a +1.10 GOE (Grade of Execution), a remarkable score.

But what came after was a major turning point.

At the following month’s NHK Trophy, during practice, Hanyu fell on a 4Lz and injured a ligament in his right ankle, the landing foot for jumps.

He had to withdraw from NHK Trophy, and with it, his chance to qualify for the Grand Prix Final, where he had a shot at an unprecedented fifth consecutive title. He also missed the Japanese Nationals in December. For months, in the lead-up to the PyeongChang Olympics, he was barely able to get on the ice at all.

He eventually came back with careful preparation and delivered a miraculous performance at the PyeongChang Olympics, winning his second consecutive gold medal, but he did not include the 4Lz in his program there.

The 4Lz, which had once been the cause of a serious injury that deeply impacted his career, would not return until nearly two years later.

At the 2019 Grand Prix Final, in his free skate, he cleanly landed both the quadruple loop (the jump Hanyu was the first in history to successfully execute in 2016) and the quadruple Lutz.

In just a few seconds, this jump carries all of that history and weight.

And now, two and a half years into his professional career, he has once again showcased the 4Lz, this time, in “BOW AND ARROW.”

The beauty of the takeoff

In this MV, the 4Lz is shot from a diagonal overhead angle, making it especially easy to see, and you can’t help but be struck by the sheer beauty of the takeoff.

There are six types of jumps in figure skating, and all of them rotate counterclockwise. For the Lutz, the skater travels backward on the left foot and uses the right toe pick to vault into the air.

Here, pay close attention to the left foot.

In the Lutz takeoff, the skater must tilt the left foot’s edge deeply outward. This naturally causes the left foot to “want” to turn clockwise.

But the jump itself must rotate counterclockwise, so the skater needs the body to turn leftward. As a result, many skaters end up having their edge “pulled” inward (to the right) at the moment of takeoff.

Hanyu’s 4Lz in this MV, however, holds the left edge beautifully, and just as he takes off, he presses that left edge down even deeper.

It’s a dreamlike moment, a Lutz that is unmistakably a true Lutz.

There are no judges here, but if there were, the GOE (Grade of Execution) for this 4Lz would surely be extremely high.

“BOW AND ARROW,” Medalist, and their shared obsession with expression

Normally, difficult jumps are placed at the beginning of a program, when the skater still has full stamina. And in a program of up to 2:50, a skater must also fit in all seven technical elements. For this reason, in most short programs, the first jump is performed around the 20-second mark.

Even in Hanyu’s short programs at the PyeongChang Olympics, where he won his second gold, and at the 2020 Four Continents Championships, where he completed his Super Slam, his first jump came around 23 seconds in.

But in “BOW AND ARROW,” Hanyu performs his first jump—the 4Lz—about 45 seconds into the program.

This is because he matched the timing of Hikaru Kamizaki’s jump in the Medalist anime opening.

Placing the first jump here, however, means he must perform the remaining six technical elements in just about two minutes.

And yet, Hanyu chose to do it this way.

Furthermore, one reason he included the 4Lz in this program is that Jun Yodaka from Medalist performs a 4Lz.

The respect Hanyu has for this competition-focused skating work, Medalist, can be felt vividly.

3A (Triple Axel)

The second jump is the triple Axel (3A). Hanyu’s triple Axel has always been remarkably stable, but that doesn’t mean the one here is “easy.”

He takes only a short preparation, then immediately performs a challenging turn called a “counter,” and from there, without pausing for timing, he launches straight into the triple Axel.

In other words, the moment he switches from backward to forward, he doesn’t wait, he takes off right away. This is an extremely difficult entry, because when you turn forward like this, your footing is less stable.

And then, the instant he lands the triple Axel, he flows seamlessly into a twizzle (a one-foot spin) timed precisely to the shimmering sound in the music.[1]

He does this entire sequence right in front of where the judges would be seated (if this were a competition). Skaters are always especially wary of making mistakes in front of the judging panel.

On top of that, it’s close to the boards, a spot that can add a sense of fear. This triple Axel sequence is loaded with difficulty in every respect.

FSSp (Flying Sit Spin)

Fans of Medalist will recognize this: the flying sit spin.

Here, Hanyu even incorporates the “broken leg” position (the free leg extended out to the side), which the protagonist, Inori Kiyosumi, is known for.

But of course, Hanyu doesn’t stop there.

After the “broken leg” position, he transitions into the “sit back” (also called “sit behind”) position, where the free leg is placed behind the supporting leg that’s on the ice. This is an extremely difficult transition.

And when he finishes the spin, he goes into a knee-slide position, evoking the aura of Jun Yodaka from Medalist.

Layback Ina Bauer

This isn’t one of the seven required technical elements of a short program, but as an expressive element, Hanyu performs a “layback Ina Bauer.”

In the Ina Bauer, the skater opens the feet out 180 degrees and slides sideways across the ice with one foot forward and one foot back.

Here, Hanyu adds a deep backbend (the “layback”)—arching from the mid-back all the way through his hips, a position that demands extraordinary flexibility.

He performs this move at the line in the song that says: “And every bit of that brilliance you’ve seized, it’s all yours.”

It’s as if all the glory he’s achieved, and the fact that he’s now presenting this highest-level program as a professional, fuses with this phrase.

This is a moment of pure transcendence to savor.

4S+3T (Quadruple Salchow + Triple Toe Loop Combination)

A jump combination is when two jumps are performed back-to-back.

In “BOW AND ARROW,” Hanyu places a quad Salchow + triple toe loop combination in the second half of the program.

This is an incredibly difficult choice.

He performs this combination at around the 2-minute mark. By this point, he has been skating at full speed nearly the entire time, and yet, he launches into a 4S+3T.

The difficulty of this is obvious.

And there’s another layer: the nature of the short program itself.

In a short program, the skater must perform three jumps:

• one Axel,

• one solo jump,

• and one jump combination.

Now, a jump combination only works if you cleanly land the first jump, if you don’t, you can’t tack on the second jump.

That’s why, in most programs, the first jump is planned as the combination. If it fails, the skater can still turn a later solo jump into a combination and meet the requirements.

But if you put the combination last, as Hanyu does here, and fail to connect it, you won’t fulfill the short program requirements, and that element could become worth zero points.

And yet, in “BOW AND ARROW,” Hanyu deliberately places his combination as the third jump.

This reveals an absolute, unwavering confidence: “I will not fail here.”

The Combination at PyeongChang

At the PyeongChang Olympics, where Hanyu won his second gold medal, his short program included: 4S, 3A, and 4T+3T.

While the specific jumps are slightly different, this structure—placing the combination third—has been the same.

Bonus for Second-Half Jumps

Jumps performed in the second half of the program receive a 10% base value bonus.

By putting his highest-value element—the jump combination—at the end, Hanyu maximizes the scoring potential of “BOW AND ARROW.”

This is a jump layout designed to earn massive points. And Hanyu executes it flawlessly.

“Fly!”

Right as he goes into his quad Salchow + triple toe loop combination, we hear the word: “Fly!” [飛べ / tobe] [2]

For longtime fans of Hanyu, this word may instantly bring back memories of the 2014 Cup of China.

In that event’s six-minute warm-up, Hanyu collided violently with another skater, suffering heavy bleeding and being taken to the medical room.

When it was time for his program, no one knew if he would skate. But then he emerged, head wrapped in bandages, and stepped onto the ice.

And right before he began that unforgettable performance, he shouted to himself: “Tobe!” [飛べ ].

CCoSp (Change-Foot Combination Spin) – Biellmann Spin

This spin transitions through various positions, with a change of foot in the middle.

And then comes the Biellmann: spinning as he extends his arm, grabs the blade, and lifts his leg high up and behind his head.

This move requires immense flexibility in the back and hips. Like the layback Ina Bauer, many male skaters lose the ability to perform it once they grow and build muscle.

Even Hanyu went through a period where he didn’t perform the Biellmann. But since turning professional in 2022—at age 27—he’s brought it back.

For a male skater to revive the Biellmann in his late 20s is extraordinary.

It’s not even a required competitive element anymore. But Hanyu regained it, while also maintaining the raw power for quadruple jumps.

This is the result of years of steady training, driven by a relentless belief in balancing strength and flexibility, and by his pride as a skater.

This Biellmann spin, performed by a 30-year-old Yuzuru Hanyu, is nothing short of a statement.

A Program Crafted with Pure Intent

Hanyu himself has said of this program: “I put a lot of thought and care into it.”

On the lyric “I wonder if I’ve become the kind of adult I once longed to be,” he gazes upward.

On “Drew my bow strong,” he mimes the motion of drawing a bow.

Everywhere in this program, you can find traces of his commitment (こだわり/ kodawari), his uncompromising attention to detail.

The Short Program “BOW AND ARROW”

At the start, Hanyu waits, exhaling white breath in the cold air. On the ice before him are countless tracings from his blades.

If you look closely at the area where he launches his 4Lz, you’ll see it’s been worn white from repeated takeoffs and landings.

Even in this single filming session, Hanyu skated “BOW AND ARROW” so many times that the ice bears witness.

And yet, despite all of this, he isn’t sweating.

In normal practice or competition, he sweats heavily. But here, in this freezing rink—so cold that even from a distance, you can see his breath—he just keeps skating.

The lights are dimmed, with only moving spotlights. It’s a harsh environment for high-difficulty jumps.

And still, Hanyu gave it everything.

He poured every ounce of himself into this masterpiece. He jumped again and again, carving those tracings into the ice until he created something worthy of being preserved forever.

What we see here is nothing less than the miracle of Yuzuru Hanyu’s ultimate short program: “BOW AND ARROW.”

 

Kenshi Yonezu「BOW AND ARROW』

Music Video

https://youtu.be/M-EyhjkepyO 

 

Kenshi Yonezu「BOW AND ARROW』 MV Yuzuru Hanyu Short Program ver.

https://youtu.be/Wcza_Do4loY
 

NOTES

 

[1] Additional info. In an interview for Ice Jewel Vol. 20 (June, 2025), Yuzuru mentioned:
“It’s hard to see clearly in the footage, but I go into it from a hop jump, then immediately do a counter and jump the triple Axel. I’ve gotten pretty used to jumping an Axel straight from a counter, but this time, instead of setting the blade or my body straight before the counter, I kept the motion continuous from the hop jump, went into the curve, and jumped off that same curve. That was what made it really difficult for me. Since the trajectory was different from usual, I had to slightly adjust how I shaped the curve, as well as change how I took off and the speed of the rotation.
After landing the Axel, I go into a twizzle, but in that scene in BOW AND ARROW, there’s a pause in the music once, and then it goes into a “ta-ra-ra-ra-ra” rhythm. Normally, I enter the twizzle right from the back outside edge after landing the Axel, but in BOW AND ARROW, because of that pause in the music, I do a three-turn from the back outside edge and then enter a forward inside twizzle. That kind of subtle change was also a new experiment for me. Also, I really wanted to nail the timing perfectly with the music, but if I jumped the Axel from the counter at my usual timing, I wouldn’t have made it in time for the beat. Because the fence was extremely close, I jumped the triple Axel very quickly and compactly. I kept the height low, relied solely on rotation speed to complete three and a half rotations, and adjusted the airtime to create a solid feel.” (Machine translation, available here).

[2] 飛べ / tobe, imperative form of the verb 飛ぶ / toberu, which means “to fly” or “to jump”.