[2026.02.17] Dear Yuzuru Hanyu

[yuzurujenn]

Info: https://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/4635340546

 

"A human life can be taken away quite easily. That's why I want to continue performing in a way that will guide people, even if only a little, in the direction of life."
- Yuzuru Hanyu (from the text)

 

Since turning professional, Yuzuru Hanyu has continued to evolve, successfully holding one solo ice show after another. Drawing on in-depth interviews with renowned coaches and skating insiders, as well as the author's own experiences as a spectator, this book unravels the depths of Hanyu's skating. It also includes an exclusive, long interview with Hanyu!

 

Why is Yuzuru Hanyu's skating so beautiful and so moving to the souls of those who watch? This is a collection of essays from the author, captivated by the "absolute champion"! This book includes additions and revisions to essays originally published in Shueisha Shinsho Plus's "Naoko Utsunomiya Talks Skating" and Yama-to-Keikokusha's "Quadruple Axel," as well as a significant amount of new material.

 

●Over 20,000 Words! An Exclusive Interview with Hanyu!
A massive, over 20,000-word interview with Hanyu! This interview delves deeply into Hanyu's outlook on life and his sense of happiness, including his efforts during maintenance, his pride as a professional athlete, the meaning of life, why he skates, and his thoughts on the earthquake disaster. We delve into the depths of Hanyu from the unique perspective of a non-fiction writer. Also includes beautiful photos, including unpublished ones!

Included are beautiful photos, including unpublished ones, from "Hanyu Yuzuru notte stellata 2025," "The First Skate," and "Yuzuru Hanyu ICE STORY 2nd "RE_PRAY" TOUR"! The cover, front cover, and opening photos are works by Yoshiki Kogaito. Enjoy these precious photographs that capture the beauty of a moment.

■Contents
-Photo Gallery

-A Very Short Preface

 

-Chapter 1: In the Footsteps of a Champion

A Hymn to Him / Act Two Begins

 

-Chapter 2: From Russia with Love

My First Steps / Two Heavyweights

 

-Chapter 3: Words from Tsuzuki Shoichiro

No Need to Worry / Absolute Champion / Exceptional / Stockholm Story / One-Eighth / Merry Christmas / The Realm of God / A 9-Year-Old Boy / Where Artists Go / Where to Grow / RE_PRAY

 

-Chapter 4: One-of-a-Kind

GIFT / Piercing the Heart / Echoes of Life

 

-Chapter 5: Yuzuru Hanyu Speaks
I Can't Help It Because I Want to Get Better / Where Do I Go From Here? / Searching for Happiness / I've Worked So Hard
To Get Better / Thinking About Expression / The Great East Japan Earthquake / Let's Live Tomorrow Too

 

-Chapter 6: Dedicated to the Explorers
Xebio Arena Sendai / The First Skate / One Centimeter

 

A Very Short Afterword
 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

Chapter 5: Yuzuru Hanyu Speaks

 

I'm in a conference room in Yokohama. My laptop in front of me, and beside it are my notebook and a pencil case. The recording equipment is ready as well.

 

I've been doing this job for a long time. Over 30 years. During that time, I have interviewed many people. So many that I can’t even count them. Famous actors, politicians, doctors, athletes, and even foreigners. So, I should be getting used to it by now, but I'm not at all. Even now I’m nervous, and my fingertips are so cold they almost hurt. I'm about to conduct an online interview. This is my first time doing so.

 

When the appointed time arrives, the screen suddenly flickers. Yuzuru Hanyu appears, dressed in his black training clothes. We exchange greetings and the interview begins. Hanyu speaks fluently throughout, smiling pleasantly from time to time. Needless to say, he's a wonderful person. And very intelligent. I ask him about his outlook on life and his sense of happiness.

 

Spoiler

“It can’t be helped, because I want to get better.”

 

— Thank you very much for taking the time to speak with me today.

Hanyu: Thank you for having me.

 

— I feel that you always practice a “no cutting corners” approach in everything you do. How did you develop such a sincere approach to things? And does living that way bring you satisfaction?

 

Hanyu: The expression “does it bring you satisfaction” doesn’t quite sit right with me… how should I put it? I think it’s more accurate to say that I don’t know any other option. For example, the mindset of “I have to give it my all” or “I won’t compromise on anything” isn’t something I consciously choose. It just happens naturally when I’m being myself, and that feels more accurate to me.

 

— That’s a very interesting way to put it. The other day, I attended the final performance of 'Yuzuru Hanyu ICE STORY 3rd “Echoes of Life” TOUR,' and the entire venue was on its feet in a frenzy of joy. How does “Yuzuru Hanyu, who strives for perfection,” receive those voices praising you?

 

Hanyu: To put it simply, I’m happy, of course. Since turning professional, I’ve been in a world where “artistic expression” is given great importance. At the same time, physical and technical elements such as jumps, spins, and skating skills are also extremely important. I’ve come to realize once again that true artistry is only possible on the foundation of those skills.

 

I can’t perform flawlessly at every single show. But even if I don’t, there’s still a story being conveyed, a mental or emotional landscape being drawn. Naturally, my own emotions as the performer also change each time. They change depending on success or failure, my condition that day, the weather, the atmosphere of the day. My emotions keep shifting because of all those factors.

 

— I see.

 

Hanyu: So, I do feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that it’s being well received. But that feeling has nothing to do with being a perfectionist or with the idea that I have to completely exhaust myself. Of course, I want to perform without mistakes, and I truly aim to deliver something technically perfect every time. At the same time, there are moments when I think, “That wasn’t perfect.” But it’s precisely in those imperfections that something human comes through in the story, or in the case of “Echoes,” something that feels uniquely like Nova. Knowing that people were able to feel and receive that is what gives me a sense of accomplishment.

 

— Even when you make a mistake, it sometimes feel as if that is also part of the performance. You often say, “I want to get better.” How good would you have to become to feel satisfied? How far do you want to improve, both in terms of expression and technique, as you were just talking about?

 

Hanyu: I haven’t really thought in terms of “how far” I want to go. For example, I do set short-term goals, like “I’ll reach this point by next week” or “I want to be at this level by next month.” Having those goals helps me structure my days so I can actually achieve them, and from there I work backwards to plan my practice and training. So, in that sense, I do have short-term ideals. But when I think more broadly, in the long term, about “how far” I want to go, I wonder if it’s even right to try to decide that. I feel like… maybe that’s not quite the way to approach it.

 

— Why is that?

 

Hanyu: The “ideal skater” I imagine right now, or the “ideal Yuzuru Hanyu,” will probably be different tomorrow. And I think the fact that it keeps changing is just part of who I am. So if I answer in an interview like this and say, “I want to get this good,” putting it into words might end up fixing my future image in place. And somehow, that feels a little wasteful to me.

 

— That’s a fascinating way to think about it. Wasteful?

 

Hanyu: Isn’t it a bit of a waste? For example, if it’s an Olympic gold medal as the result, then as a goal you can say, “I want to reach this point.” But you can’t really say in advance what the performance itself will be like. Is it “I want to land a quadruple Lutz and win gold,” or “I want to win even if I leave out the quad Lutz”? Depending on the situation at that time, the performance itself, or even my own ability, would be completely different. I think I’d be a different version of myself.

 

Right now, since I’m no longer in a situation where results (scores) are the primary concept, I can think more freely about my “ideal form.” I set small goals, like, “I reached this point this month, so next I’ll aim a little higher,” and I want to spend my life looking forward to seeing just how far that ladder can go. Of course, as a professional skater, I still have to think about shows and numbers, but let's put that aside for now.

 

— That’s wonderful. Do you think that’s a fate carried by your existence as Yuzuru Hanyu, or is it more of a responsibility?

 

Hanyu: It’s probably just my personality. It’s not because I became Yuzuru Hanyu or anything like that. I’ve been this way since the moment I was born into this world (laughs).

 

— When I spoke with Coach Alexei Mishin before, he praised you very highly, saying, “Yuzuru Hanyu's way of life is like walking on a knife's edge, a rather dangerous way to live.” What do you think of those words?

 

Hanyu: I don’t feel like I’m walking on a knife’s edge (laughs). It’s not as if I deliberately chose to walk that path. But when I look back, maybe it’s turned out that way… how should I say this? I’ve always been the kind of person who goes for maximum efficiency, ever since I was little.

 

— What do you mean by that?

 

Hanyu: For example, something another skater might master in about ten tries, I feel like I have to do it fifty times before I’ve mastered it. Of course, from other people's perspective, they might say, "You're doing much better than average in ten tries," but for me, the quality level at which I feel I’ve truly “mastered” something is probably higher than for most people.

 

So what others might call a success after ten attempts, I feel is nowhere near enough, and I end up doing it fifty times. Doing those fifty tries has caused me many injuries and taken a toll on my body. I was born with asthma, so even though I often tried harder than others, there were times when I simply couldn’t push as far as I wanted to. So, ever since I was little, I've always thought about “how can I grow faster?” and “how can I get better more quickly?” Part of that was because I had an older sister and always wanted to catch up to her. And I moved from junior to senior at a relatively young age, so I felt, “I have to catch up to the older skaters quickly. If I don’t improve fast, I can’t compete in this world.” I think that’s why I’ve always sought maximum efficiency.

 

But maximum efficiency has its pros and cons. For example, there may be a training method that dramatically increases your success rate if you can complete it. But that same method might also mean that one wrong move leads to immediate injury. When it comes to balancing those things, I might be more likely than others to disregard the disadvantages, like injuries. Or rather, maybe I can’t think about anything except “I want to get better.” From the outside, people might see me as walking on a knife’s edge or rushing through life, and it probably seems very nerve-wracking. But for me, I just think, “It can't be helped, because I want to get better” (laughs).

 

— I think that way of thinking is amazing. I asked earlier, but would you say it’s a way of proving yourself as a champion, or is it more about pride?

 

Hanyu: I guess that’s also part of my innate personality? Of course, there are also learned aspects. As I said earlier, I was in an environment where I had to catch up to my seniors quickly, and from a young age, I had my sister as a goal. So the desire to “catch up quickly” and “be able to do the same things quickly” has been with me since I was born. As a result, I think it ended up feeling something like, “It doesn’t matter if I get injured or anything! I will definitely get better!”

 

At the same time, after winning gold medals, there were times when I thought, “There are so many people who are happy for me” or “Because there are so many people cheering for me, I have to get even better.” I think it’s not so much about pride or honor, but rather more like pressure.

 

— Pressure?

 

Hanyu: After all, I think the strongest feeling was “I really hate that I can’t do it even though so many people are cheering for me.”

 

— But weren’t you doing fine?

 

Hanyu: Personally, I always aim for a clean performance, so it’s frustrating when mistakes happen. Also, there have been times when I didn’t win, and in those cases, I also felt a strong desire not to make my fans feel the disappointment of a loss.

 

— Thank you for thinking that way.

 

Hanyu: In this sport, you’re essentially competing alone on the ice, and I feel that the full responsibility rests on me. But at the same time, there’s no doubt that I’m channeling the support and energy of everyone cheering for me. Each person goes into a competition carrying all kinds of emotions, right? I really feel the moment when all of that energy and those feelings converge on me, so I’ve always felt, and still feel, a sense of frustration and guilt when I can’t meet those expectations.

 

— It's these feelings that make your skating increasingly beautiful. In this book, I even wrote about you, “Is that even human?” You’re so beautiful that it almost doesn’t seem human. Truly breathtaking.

 

Hanyu (modestly): Thank you very much.

 

— When you step onto the ice, your beauty takes my breath away.

 

Hanyu: But please remember to breathe (laughs).

 

— Thank you (laughs). Since turning professional, I feel that even more strongly. What do you think has changed most in yourself compared to your competitive days?

 

Hanyu: Hmm… what has changed, I wonder… When I was competing, of course, I always had to focus on getting points, and there was this constant feeling of “If I’m going to compete, I want to win.” I know everyone was cheering for the moments when I skated cleanly or achieved my goals. But still… how should I put it… I always felt like I was skating on the foundation of a “battle.” So looking back now, I really feel that there were constraints like, “I have to do this element” or “I have to skate this way,” and within that framework, I would ask myself, “What do I want to express?”

 

Now, especially when I get to do a solo ice show, it’s different. It feels like I can finally express all the different sides of myself. Or rather, I feel like I can use every aspect of my skating, including both the movements I’m good at and those I struggle with, and share everything with the audience. I think this is the most enjoyable thing for me as an artist.

 

As I mentioned earlier, back then, what I wanted to express was built on a foundation of “battle,” so in a way, there were many things I didn’t need to practice. I could focus solely on “sharpening the blade” for battle, so I didn’t really need to develop other “weapons.” But now, in order to explore a variety of expressions, I have to practice many different things. I really feel that this, including the way I practice, has changed a great deal.

 

— I’ve noticed that your dance precision and ballet-like beauty seem to be constantly improving. Are there any areas where you personally feel you’ve gotten better?

 

Hanyu: When I look back at my performances up to Beijing (Olympics), honestly, there are parts where I feel my body control was pretty clumsy. It’s hard to put into words exactly what’s improved, but for example, even the way I position my center of gravity when standing is completely different now. In the past, I was basically imitating forms, doing things while thinking, “I want it to look like this.” But gradually, I started to realize, “Oh, if I use my body this way, it works like this,” and now I can do it naturally. I think that’s a big difference compared to when I was competing.

 

— Coach Shoichiro Tsuzuki said, “Since turning professional, Yuzuru has become even more beautiful, and there’s no one in the world who can jump with the same technical skill as he did in his competitive days. He’s a god.”

 

Hanyu: For me, the ideal kind of skating I want to do, the image of how I want to skate, actually goes back to when I was in fourth grade. Of course, my body control was still poor, and my edge work wasn’t very good yet. But that was the time when I practiced the basics most thoroughly, really refining things like the reach of each crossover and the precision of my edge lean. At that time, I was still just focused on giving my all to every step and movement, but even now, I still want to perform that same committed skating with my upper body completely free, in a state where I feel I can move however I want. That’s why I still love Coach Tsuzuki’s skating so much. Of course, there are still many things I feel I haven’t mastered yet (laughs).

 

— Your performance of "From Russia With Love" at Jingu (2004 All-Japan Novice Championships, held at Meiji Jingu Gaien Ice Skating Rink) was absolutely beautiful. Your skating flowed so beautifully with your costume, you had speed, your spins were clean, and your positions were full of originality. You were really good, even back then.

 

Hanyu: Up until fourth grade, I was training under Coach Tsuzuki. Then, in fifth grade, the judging system changed from the 6.0 system to the current scoring system. After that, skating itself gradually started to be somewhat neglected. After all, no matter how hard you work, skating skills aren’t something that improve quickly. On top of that, with points for jumps and spins now clearly defined, those elements naturally drew the most attention. This created an era where “you can’t win if you can’t jump.” As a result, from fourth grade through the upper elementary years, into middle and high school, the time when my body was gradually stiffening and losing flexibility was spent almost entirely focused on jumps.

 

— I see.

 

Hanyu: So, honestly, I always felt that my skating skills started to decline from that point on. That’s why, even now, whenever I watch my performance of the All-Japan Novice Championships at Jingu in fourth grade, I still think, “Wow, that was really good.” And I also think, “It’d be tough if a kid like that showed up” (laughs).

 

"Where are you headed from here?"

 

— I heard you're currently undergoing physical maintenance. Can you tell us about your current situation?

 

Hanyu: For now, I’m reviewing how I use my body.

 

— What do you mean, specifically?

 

Hanyu: This is similar to what I said earlier, but up until now, I've always just been "imitating." For example, I would watch the choreographer’s work over and over on video, compare it to myself in the mirror, and repeatedly check, “Am I hitting the same poses?” Even with jumps, if one happened to come out cleanly, I’d think, “This worked well, so I’ll imitate it,” and I would keep refining the precision that way. That’s what I’d always been doing.

 

— I see.

 

Hanyu: Then, around my second year as a professional, I suddenly started strength training (laughs).

 

— Strength training?

 

Hanyu: Yes. It came from bringing in knowledge I had never encountered as a figure skater. I gradually started strength training from the very basics, studying hard to improve. But as I was constantly being pushed by show production and daily practice, I began to realize that all of that had been just shallow self-study. Until then, I’d never had the time to deconstruct how I used my body or the theory behind jumps, which I had only learned by imitation. Now, I’m taking everything apart, reviewing all my habits. Why was I prone to injury? How can I improve anatomically? How can I make my movements more fluid and flexible? I’m spending a lot of time studying and working on these things.

 

— So now you’re tackling things you couldn’t focus on before.

 

Hanyu: Yes. When I return from maintenance and perform for everyone, people might not notice a sudden change or think, “Wow, it’s completely different.” Right now, I’m breaking down every single movement, experimenting with adjustments, and testing ideas based on how the body works, learning as I go. My goal is to reach the point where people feel, “Somehow, it’s prettier” or “Somehow, it’s better.” That’s what I’m working toward every day.

 

— Is this time spent developing yourself a happy time for you?

 

Hanyu: Yes, it’s very fulfilling.

 

— And does that sense of fulfillment, as you mentioned before, also support you mentally?

 

Hanyu: That’s kind of a separate thing. How should I put it… Mentally, I now have time to reflect on my mind and my life in a different way.

— I’m glad you’re able to take that kind of time.

 

Hanyu: I’m spending a lot of time really looking inward at myself. I think that will ultimately feed into my creative work, whether it’s choreography, writing, or other forms of expression. Of course, I don’t see who I’ve been up until now as “wrong” at all. But I’ve been reflecting on questions like, “What have I been carrying in my heart?” “What has driven me forward?” “How have I been living?”

 

During "Echoes," most of what I studied was still very basic, so I didn’t think about it that deeply. Now, I repeatedly ask myself these questions, dig deeper, and try to live in a way that enhances the “purity of my heart.” At least mentally.

 

— This is something I also wrote in the book, but I truly feel that your very existence brings happiness to many people and even saves them. I, too, have received so much happiness from you. So, what is it that makes you happy? It could be something simple, like enjoying your favorite food, but what is it that brings you the greatest joy?

 

Hanyu: Hmm… hmm… (thinking deeply). I’m still searching for it. It’s really difficult. I think that superficial feelings of “fun” or “happiness” can be created fairly easily. But now, having this rare opportunity to take time for myself and repeatedly asking, “What does happiness really mean to me?” I see that I’ve always lived with the thought, “I have to live up to everyone’s expectations.” So when I can bring joy to others, that truly is happiness for me.

 

— Thank you.

 

Hanyu: I feel truly happy about that. Of course, it’s also the moment when all the practice and effort I’ve put in pays off, so I get a real sense of personal accomplishment. In those moments, I really feel happy. But when I really think about the happiness of all the people who support me, I’ve recently started to feel that if I were working hard to “make everyone happy” while neglecting my own, I might end up imposing a kind of forced happiness on them. So before that, I feel I need to truly find what makes me happy and stand on my own two feet, feeling fulfilled at my core; otherwise, I won’t be able to convey happiness to others with confidence. I’m currently working hard to find that (laughs).

 

It’s like what Coach Mishin said, having walked across many dangerous bridges, if you ask me, “What’s at the end of that bridge?” the answer has always been seeing someone’s joy. That’s been central to the way I’ve lived my life, and I see that more clearly now.

 

So, even after having written the story "Echoes of Life" (laughs), I’ve been constantly thinking again about questions like, “So, what am I?” or, “Who am I?” It’s the same with "RE_PRAY" and "GIFT," which I feel are perhaps a bit “too introspective.” That introspection can be a strength, but at the same time, I feel that if I don’t grow as a person a little more, I’ll only be able to write stories like those. In that sense, I’m still on this journey of self-discovery.

 

"Searching for happiness"

 

— From my perspective as an interviewer, you have a strong sense of self, and precisely because of that, you can radiate such beauty and bring so much happiness to so many people. There aren’t many people like that.

 

Hanyu: Thank you.

 

— Now, I hear that’s roughly how you spend your days these days. If you don’t mind, could you walk us through a typical day, from waking up to going to bed?

 

Hanyu: I wake up…

 

—  What time do you wake up?

 

Hanyu: The time varies a bit.

 

— So it’s not fixed?

 

Hanyu: Yes, it depends on what time I have practice, so I can’t really set a fixed time. Some days I wake up early in the morning, other days in the evening. Practice schedules shift earlier or later, so it’s hard to pin down. But as a general routine: I wake up in the morning, stretch, move my body, do some exercises, and then start training.

 

— You mean training on the ice?

 

Hanyu: On land. I train how to move my body, train to improve my flexibility, eat, stretch, take a nap, train, eat, take a bath, stretch, sleep... something like that (laughs).

 

— Is that all? That would only take a few lines. Don’t you do anything else?

 

Hanyu (thinking): Hmm…

 

— I’ll write, “Here, Yuzuru Hanyu is thinking.”

 

Hanyu: Hahaha (laughs).

 

— So it really is something you have to think about that much, huh?

 

Hanyu: Yeah, that’s right. There isn’t much else. Even though I’m lucky to have this maintenance period, I end up spending almost all of my time doing something related to skating.

 

— What about music or games?

 

Hanyu: In the end, I even end up stretching while playing games.

 

— Ah, I see.

 

Hanyu: When I stretch for a long time, my mind gets tired, so I play games while stretching. Or rather, I watch videos while stretching.

 

— What about meals?

 

Hanyu: Well, when it comes to meals, I just eat normally (laughs). That’s about it, I guess. Yesterday, for example, I spent so much time stretching and training that I wonder how many hours it was in total.

 

— But for someone like you, who’s exploring “what it means to be Yuzuru Hanyu” right now, even that kind of day must feel very fulfilling.

 

Hanyu: Yeah, that’s true. It’s the same with manga, anime, or games, but in those moments, you come into contact with various words and ideas, right? Music too. Every time I come across something like that, it gives me a chance to reflect on myself. And while doing that, I stretch or train at the same time (laughs).

 

— So, now that you’re spending your days like that, training every day, is there anything else you feel you need right now? Like something you want?

 

Hanyu: Hmm…

 

— So that’s something you have to think about as well, huh?

 

Hanyu: I think it ultimately ties back to what I said earlier, “What does happiness really mean?” I’m still searching for that.

 

— The fact that you can’t come up with anything even after thinking so hard about what you need, does that, in a sense, mean you’re somewhat satisfied with your current self?

 

Hanyu: Hmm… Maybe part of the reason I can push myself so hard is that I’m not completely satisfied. I wonder… those moments when I throw myself into something, or when I achieve a goal, give me a huge surge of dopamine and serotonin. Lately, I’ve been thinking that maybe that is exactly what I am chasing, just that feeling over and over. If, by some chance, skating disappeared from this world, and all the opportunities to perform or be supported by fans were gone, and I still existed in such a world, I’d really wonder, “What on earth would I be happy about?”

 

— That’s deep. Really deep.

 

Hanyu: For example, if someone asks, “What do you want?” or “What makes you happy?” I’m sure people watching from the outside would think they know the answer. But if you ask, “If you take skating away from Yuzuru Hanyu, what would be left?” it really makes you stop and wonder. I’ve devoted so much of my life to skating. Lately, I’ve been feeling a sense of urgency, thinking that I really need to figure that out.

 

— Skating isn’t going anywhere, so you’ll always have that happiness. I really just want to keep watching you.

 

Hanyu: After all, the body is finite, isn't it? As Coach Tsuzuki said, even being able to do quadruple jumps at this age is honestly unusual, and I do think it’s the result of my hard work. I see this body itself as a “gift.” Right now, I can see the stairs I need to climb up, but I know that one day I’ll have to come back down those stairs. I feel a sense of fragility, wondering if I’ll be able to hold myself together when that day comes.

 

— I can really understand that. Seeing how much you dedicate to skating, almost putting your life into it, I can only imagine how difficult it will be when that day comes.

 

Hanyu: Of course. Turning 30 was a milestone in some sense, but I don’t think I’ll find all the answers during this maintenance period. There are people in their 80s, 90s, even over 100, and when asked, “Are you happy being alive?” many honestly answer, “I don’t really know what happiness is.” So I don’t think happiness is something you can find easily. But searching for it, trying to discover that core of happiness within your soul, is undoubtedly a meaningful pursuit.

 

— That’s wonderful. By the way, Tatiana Tarasova said, “Yuzuru Hanyu lacks nothing as a skater.”

 

Hanyu: (laughs)

 

— And when I tried to talk about you, she said, “Don’t worry, I know everything about Yuzuru.”

 

Hanyu: That’s amazing. Honestly, when I hear things like, “Coach Mishin said this about you,” or “Tarasova-san said this,” I really wish I could tell my 4th-grade self.

 

— Right.

 

Hanyu: Really. Like, “The coaches sitting in the Kiss and Cry, Puru (Evgeni Plushenko) and Yagu (Alexei Yagudin)’s coaches, are praising you so much.” I can just imagine how happy I would have been.

 

— As you mentioned earlier, now that you're 30, can you imagine the kind of world that only a 40-year-old Yuzuru Hanyu could create?

 

Hanyu: That’s something I think about. There are definitely people who are moved even without the jumps, and if I can even just reach that level a little at this age, then I feel that if I keep skating for another ten years, I could do even more than I can now. That feeling is definitely there. So in that sense, I do want to keep pursuing it, and in my performance and expression, there must be this sense of maturity, this grown-up quality (laughs)… how should I put it… like a fine wine aging, as I’ve mentioned with “Ballade No.1.” I feel that if there’s a more mature version of my skating, at its core it must possess something different from the raw purity I have now, something more crystalline, like a crystal-clear beauty.

 

The core of my heart, the center of who I am, still feels like a rough gem. All sorts of things are attached to it; other rocks, different substances, that sort of thing. I call that my “core.” Until now, I’ve been afraid to shape it, to refine it, but I want to carefully carve it, polishing it into a purer, more beautiful “core,” like a finely cut diamond. If I can refine and polish it to that extent, I'll probably be able to skate at a level that's appropriate even when I'm in my 40s.

 

— No, absolutely, you can do it. It’s just that right now, you still feel like you’re only halfway there?

 

Hanyu: Lately, I’ve been feeling that being “halfway there” as a skater and being “halfway there” as a person are pretty much the same. I guess that really started after I began creating shows. Right now, I’m working tirelessly on things like crafting stories, building choreography, and delivering them to the audience. I’ve always been the type to think deeply, but being in this world makes me feel even more strongly that “my true self comes out on the ice.” So, as a person, I feel I’m gradually becoming more refined, and at the same time, if I continue refining how I use my body, my training, and all the elements I’m working on now, I’ll get closer to my ideal self.

 

"I've worked really hard in life"

 

— How do you feel about your next show? Do you think it will raise the bar even higher for you?

 

Hanyu: It’s not that I’m consciously trying to raise the bar, but somehow, whenever I create something, the bar ends up higher (laughs). Still, as people get older, they naturally grow too. So if the bar rises along the way, I guess it can’t really be helped.

 

— Honestly, not many people can raise the bar just by saying “it can’t be helped.”

 

Hanyu: No, but… I’ve never really felt satisfied with where I am. Or rather, I don’t even know how to feel satisfied. That’s just the kind of person I am. So I think that when I skate again, the bar will probably be higher.

 

— Isn’t it painful to live without knowing how to feel satisfied?

 

Hanyu: Lately, I’ve been thinking… maybe, if I really look closely, I am struggling. If I really look closely.

 

— If you really look closely (laughs).

 

Hanyu: Looking back now, I realize that as long as I didn’t really look closely, I was just living with this feeling of, “No, it’s totally fun.” But when I really focus and examine the weaknesses in my own heart, I feel that it’s precisely those weaknesses that let me see the truth most clearly. So I try to cherish them. Because my heart is so fragile, I think I’ve become especially good at arming myself with logic. Even while remaining fragile, I want to keep building up that logical armor and continue growing.

 

— What you just said… That attitude is important not just as a skater, but as a person, too.

 

Hanyu: There’s absolutely no one who is “100% happy from the bottom of their heart.” Rather, no matter what kind of living being you are, there will always be some kind of negative emotions. In Buddhist terms, something like worldly desires that inevitably arise. I feel like those things are constantly eating away at the heart. So at one point, I thought I should just wipe all of that away. I tried to remove it completely, and I was working hard thinking, “I want to be a perfect version of myself.” But then I realized, surprisingly, “Oh… I’m human after all” (laughs).

 

So by sharing that with everyone, even if suffering exists within all of us, I want to keep striving to create moments where we can still think, “I’m happy.” I’m not really sure how to put it, though.

 

— How does it feel to keep taking on new shows and going through the process of completing them?

 

Hanyu: Creating is hard, isn’t it? Bringing words to life is an incredibly demanding process. Whenever you make something, whenever you bring something new into the world, there’s always that pain of creation. So when I’m in the middle of it, I never think, “I’m 100% happy.” If anything, it’s probably made up of about 10% happiness and 90% struggle.

 

— I see. I understand that well. At the final performance of “Echoes,” when you said, “My signature piece, ‘SEIMEI’!” your legs looked unsteady, but there was this aura of happiness, or rather, the beauty of someone who had given it their all. I really felt that.

 

Hanyu: So… I kind of think that’s the way I’d like to “die,” in a sense (laughs).

 

— In other words, would you say that means “living better”?

 

Hanyu: At the very end, when it’s truly the end, I want to be able to look back and think, “I really worked so hard. I lived giving it everything I had. I ran and ran with all my strength. And I’m glad I ran.” I want my life to be one where I can feel that way.

 

“I can still get better”

 

—You often say, “In the end, it all comes down to landing the jump.” Normally, when athletes retire, their technical skills tend to decline. Yet even after turning professional, you’ve maintained your technique and continue to land multiple quadruple jumps. Do you have any personal sense of just how extraordinary it is that you keep evolving, rather than simply maintaining your skills?

 

Hanyu: When I look at my jumps in competitions now, I think they're terrible (laughs). That shows how much I’ve refined and improved since then. Back then, I sometimes jumped just “kind of” instinctively, or relied mostly on strength. When I was in high school, for example, I was basically just throwing myself into it with sheer willpower and determination. Thinking about all that, I really feel that I’m at my best now.

 

—Coach Tsuzuki also said, “He just keeps getting better and better. There’s no one like him.”

 

Hanyu: I think it’s because I’ve kept studying all this while. Of course, the direction of that study doesn’t always lead to obvious changes like, “Oh, my jumps are higher now,” or “I can jump farther now.” It’s not always easy to see a direct effect. But if you look closely, things like, “That looks cleaner,” or “I can jump more naturally now” are also part of technique. And I really feel that all of that has accumulated over time. So compared to when I was around 27, I now have more knowledge, and I’ve kept training for three more years, which makes my experience completely different. I really feel that I’ve evolved.

 

— Normally, you’d think that as you get older, your physical ability declines. Being able to maintain it and even make it more beautiful, would you call that effort or talent?

 

Hanyu: Uh… studying (laughs). I’ve never really thought, “I need to maintain it.” Even now, I still think, “I want to be able to land a quadruple Axel.”

 

—That’s very typical of you, so positive.

 

Hanyu: How should I put it? The more I study, the more I learn, and the more theories come in. I keep realizing that the world I didn’t know is much bigger than I ever imagined, and I’m still in the process of discovering it.

 

—Come to think of it, Coach Mishin said, "You can’t land a quadruple Axel unless you change the (conventional) theory."

 

Hanyu: Of course, there’s the theory that Coach Mishin talks about, and I do try to incorporate it. But at the same time, when I try to apply it, there are parts of my body that just can’t move exactly as the theory intends. Sometimes I end up jumping from positions that naturally lead to certain outcomes. By studying how to adjust that, how to use my body more efficiently, and how to transfer force more effectively, I sometimes find that, just as Coach Mishin said, the theory itself gradually evolves over time.

 

So, when it comes to maintaining muscle, honestly, my muscle mass hasn't changed all that much since I was 27. I don’t train with the goal of “maintaining.” I train to improve, to keep getting better.

 

—You say that so casually, but most people couldn’t really say that. After all, things just decline over time.

 

Hanyu: But I’ve come to realize, quite vividly, that figure skating itself is a very ambiguous field, and that we’ve been taught based on very vague theories. So when I think, “I’ll focus on understanding my body first,” and carefully work on those unclear areas, it feels like I could keep going forever. The more I learn about parts of my body I haven’t used before, or ways of transferring force that I couldn’t use until now, the more I realize that every discovery is just another opportunity to improve.

 

On the other hand, if this were a sport like baseball, where the field is so thoroughly researched from cutting-edge anatomical data to body mechanics, then there might come a point where you’d feel, “Maybe I can’t get any better.” But in figure skating, I simply haven’t incorporated that kind of theory enough. Since skating is still a relatively minor sport, the latest techniques and research haven’t been fully applied. The more I study, the more I see the potential to grow. So, since turning professional, I’ve never felt like, “There’s nothing more I can do.” If anything, I might have felt that way when I was around 25, 26, or 27, but now I see endless possibilities for improvement.

 

“Thinking About Expression”

 

—You’ve also said that sometimes you ask yourself, “What do I really know about expression?”

 

Hanyu: Yes, that happens.

 

—Have you found an answer within yourself?

 

Hanyu: No, I haven’t found it at all. But I do think that what can only be gained on the “battlefield,” or the competitive arena, can also become a form of expression. There are so many artists in the world who dedicate themselves entirely to expression. Even going back to earlier times, people like Chopin or Leonardo da Vinci, who created what we now call art, focused purely on expression. But if you ask whether they’ve ever been in a competitive “battlefield” like ours, I don’t think they have.

 

On the other hand, I was doing something that resembled the “world of expression,” but it was always within the context of competition. I realize now that I’ve been constantly collecting the emotions and moments of inspiration that come from that environment. That’s why I feel it’s so important to take what I’ve gained and combine it with the insights, ways of thinking, and philosophies of people who specialize entirely in expression.

 

—In terms of the ideal expression you’re striving for, where do you feel you are right now?

 

Hanyu: Um… maybe around 0.2% (laughs).

 

—What!? It’s already breathtakingly beautiful, really.

 

Hanyu: Honestly, there’s always this feeling of, “I want to do more.” When I watch my own performances and that feeling comes up, I think, “This isn’t even the time to be worrying about expression yet.” If you ask me how long that will continue, I think it will last my whole life.

 

—That’s tough. I imagine it’s painful.

 

Hanyu: But I think Chopin and Liszt probably felt the same way. Chopin had a very short life, yet he wrote so many pieces and was highly regarded when he played the piano. But I’m sure they, too, were never fully satisfied until the day they died. That’s why someone like me, who’s just starting out as a professional, isn’t in a position to easily say, “I’ve got this” and be done.

 

—Even so… 0.2%?

 

Hanyu: I go through my days thinking, “Getting to 1% feels so far away.”

 

— 1% feels far away! But that really does sound like something you’d say.

 

Hanyu: I guess I’m still only about two-thousandths of the way there. Right now, with "Ice Story," I strongly feel that it’s something that can only be created because I’m not doing it alone. So many people’s efforts and talents are involved in getting it to where it is. Every time I see the completed music, the visuals, the lighting, and the stage effects, I’m deeply moved. I feel like, “There’s no way a world like this could come solely from me,” and I’m constantly inspired and amazed by all the impact and emotion that others bring to it. I really do feel that it’s not something I’m creating by myself.

 

Back when we did “Prologue,” I still felt like, “It’s all up to me!” and I’d get really worked up, thinking, “I have to make this, I have to make this.” But starting around "GIFT," I realized it was okay to let go, or rather, I felt like I could rely on others in a positive way, and I began to feel both a sense of reassurance and a sense of camaraderie, knowing, “It’s okay because everyone will make it properly.” I strongly feel that it’s precisely because we create it together in this way that the work becomes what it is.

 

“The Great East Japan Earthquake”

 

—Now I’d like to ask you something different, about the earthquake. Recently, there was news that the remains of an unidentified victim were confirmed to be a six-year-old girl. I’ve done a lot of reporting on the earthquake (Blue Impulse: 35-Second Miracle, published by Shogakukan), so it really hits me in the chest. I imagine that, for you as well, the memory of that earthquake is something that will never truly go away. Could you share a little about the pain, the suffering, and the sadness you still feel from it?

 

Hanyu: Hmm… (pauses for a moment) Hmm. I guess it’s okay if I just speak from my own feelings, right?

 

—Yes.

 

Hanyu: (After a long pause) Looking back, the feeling I have most strongly is, “Things will never go back to the way they were.” That one brief moment, just a minute or two, destroyed so many things. Not just material things, but daily lives and routines. Truly, so much was broken and lost. And there’s no going back there. From that 2:46 p.m.

 

—Yes. On Friday.

 

Hanyu: Going back to the time before… It's sad to think that the time up until that moment, when life was flowing normally, will never come back. There are so many memories, and even now, when an earthquake hits, I still feel scared. I don’t think that feeling will ever truly go away. After March 11, for me personally, it was maybe a week, maybe ten days… or about a month. Somehow, during that time, I gradually realized, “So this is how my life will be.” I just naturally slipped back into the rhythm of skating, and that’s carried me to where I am today.

 

— Countless lives were profoundly changed, weren’t they? How has the earthquake continued to impact your life as a skater? Of course, we know well how you’ve been involved, but is there anything you can share with us now, in your own words?

 

Hanyu: I feel that my life as a skater has ended up very different from what I imagined as a child. Back then, I had my own ideas about what skating meant to me, the programs I would perform… but where I’ve come now is really far from that. The earthquake happened, and in response to it, through skating and through reflecting on it, that experience became one of the reasons I skate. In that sense, I feel that my skating life really had no choice but to change. I feel like I was made to change.

 

—When I saw a Christmas tree in Miyagi before, there were message cards on it. One said, “Yuzuru Hanyu, do your best! Thank you.” Seeing that, I really felt that you are someone who heals those who are hurting. That’s why I think your skating is beautiful.

 

“Let’s live tomorrow too”

 

— That was a painful story. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.

 

Hanyu: Thank you as well. When I was asked about the earthquake, I honestly couldn’t find the words… and then I realized that, in a way, I’ve never really faced it as my own experience. I hadn’t confronted it personally. I was always more focused on other people’s suffering, thinking about how much pain they were going through and feeling like I had to “acknowledge that and skate for them.” That’s when it hit me: “Oh, this is how I’ve been living.”

 

For me, saying “It was painful” or “I struggled” is much harder than I expected. I just can’t easily say it. I’ve seen so many people go through even worse suffering, after all. So often, I don’t even know what to say. Looking back on myself, I sometimes think, “It wasn’t that hard for me, really,” but at the same time, I think, “No, that period really was difficult,” and I’ve been reflecting on it.

 

I’m sure that in your work, Utsunomiya-san, whether it’s interviewing or writing, most of your time is spent telling other people’s stories. So maybe it’s okay to take better care of yourself, too. I realized that people like us, who write and create, often don’t really look at ourselves. So maybe we should all take a little more time to pay attention to ourselves.

 

— Thank you. This has been a wonderful time.

 

Hanyu: No, no, thank you very much.

 

— You must be tired after spending a full hour and a half with me today.

 

Hanyu: Not at all. We still have time. If it's an hour and a half, there’s still one minute left (laughs).

 

— What really struck me just now was when you said, “My skating life didn’t turn out the way I imagined it as a child.”

 

Hanyu: It was an event that forced me to change, so there was nothing I could do about it. That’s just how humans are when faced with something like that. All I could do was adapt. The gold medalist I imagined as a child was more innocent, with a simpler, more carefree image of skating. In that sense, I do feel, “Wow, things really have changed.”

 

But skating has given me many opportunities to be seen and to speak like this. When it comes to the earthquake, though, it wasn’t just me. Almost everyone, whether they experienced it directly or not, had their lives change in some way after that day. So in that sense, maybe we’re all in the same boat. And when I realized that, I told myself, “Okay, I’m in this too,” or “It can’t be helped, I’ll include myself,” and that’s when I was able to talk about it.

 

— At your shows, you always tell your fans, “No matter what, please live!” That really left a deep impression on me. Do you feel that comes from thinking about the people who wanted to live but couldn’t, the lives that were lost?

 

Hanyu: I’ve had quite a few experiences seeing death and suffering up close, and as I often say when talking about disasters, there’s a huge difference between seeing just the “numbers” and truly understanding the story behind each “one” person. When I think about that, I’m reminded of people who were deeply loved, people who were trying to live, yet who lost their lives. It makes me reflect on questions like, “What is the meaning of my life?” and “Is it really okay for me to live so carefree?” In that context, I realized that, honestly, it’s not easy to genuinely feel, “I want to live,” unless I force myself to find a reason.

 

As an artist, what I convey through my works, "GIFT," "Prologue," "RE_PRAY," and "Echoes," is always rooted in the same message: “Keep living.” I want to keep doing that. In a way, continuing to do it also feels like I’m telling myself to “live.”

 

Life is fragile. People’s lives can end in an instant, and there are certainly those who wouldn’t have died if they had made just one different choice. That’s why I want to keep performing in a way that can, even a little, guide people toward living. There really are so many things that can be done if you put your mind to it, and humans are surprisingly resilient.

 

That’s why I want my skating to have meaning, so that even a little of that feeling can reach someone and they can think, “Yes, I’ll live tomorrow!” or “I’ll keep living because I saw this performance.” And I think I feel this largely because of the earthquake.

 

— That’s just how it is, after all, right?

 

Hanyu: Yes.

 

— Hanyu-san, you’re amazing. Truly amazing.

 

Hanyu: Even if you flatter me that much... (laughs).

 

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

When the interview ended, I wondered what kind of expression I had. Yuzuru Hanyu was smiling. A face that suited words like “pure” or “transparent.”

 

"Thank you for your time," I said.

 

Hanyu replied, “Not at all. Thank you, really. And if it’s an hour and a half, we still have time. One more minute.” He said this and laughed briefly.

 

He paused for a moment, as if to confirm something, then continued speaking. It was a very important conversation.

 

When I talk with Hanyu, I feel an incredible sense of discipline. It goes far beyond the impression I had of him from post-competition press conferences or interviews. It may sound cliché, but he carries himself like a “monk in training.”

 

He tries to solve problems that most people give up on, thinking, “There’s nothing you can do just by thinking about it.” He confronts himself relentlessly and strives to overcome.

 

During the interview, he did not affirm himself. He said he was “still thinking, still searching.” I think that, in itself, is wonderful.

 

A life without searching is dull, and living without thinking feels unbearable. All the more so for someone who aims for greater heights.

 

When I asked how close he felt to the ideal expression he’s aiming for, he answered, “About 0.2%.”

 

This is who he is. He makes “still not enough” the norm. It’s a hard way to live, but Yuzuru Hanyu can do it. He is a strong person.

 

On the other hand, Tatiana Tarasova and Alexei Mishin (who both love talking about Hanyu; we had many conversations in Russia) said, “Hanyu is special. He's perfect.”

 

I support the way Hanyu lives. At the same time, I also agree with Tarasova and Mishin’s opinions.

 

I think neither of them is wrong. He is truly perfect.

 

[Wintek]

Interview with Yuzuru Hanyu published in “Dear Hanyu Yuzuru-sama”

Naoko Utsunomiya. Released: February 17, 2026

***Note on translation: The text was machine translated from Japanese to English and then reviewed by @YuzuMilk to correct mistakes that may result in misinterpreting the overall meaning of Yuzuru’s words. The writing style hasn't been revised and thus this translation doesn't necessarily reflect Utsunomiya-san's style.

 

 

Chapter 5: Hanyu Yuzuru speaks

 

 

Spoiler

I am in a conference room in Yokohama.There is a computer in front of me, and beside it are a notebook and a pencil case. The preparations for recording are also complete.

I have been doing this work for a long time. It has been more than thirty years. During that time, I have interviewed many people. Countless people. There were famous actors, politicians and doctors, athletes, and foreigners as well.So by now I should be used to it, but I am not used to it at all. Even now I am nervous, and my fingertips are so cold they almost hurt. I am about to conduct an interview online. Online is a first-time experience for me.

When the appointed time arrives, the screen suddenly shifts. Hanyu Yuzuru appears, dressed in black practice wear. We exchange greetings, and the interview begins.

Hanyu speaks smoothly throughout, and from time to time he smiles pleasantly. Needless to say, he is a wonderful person. And very intelligent. I ask him about his views on life and about his sense of happiness.

 

“It Can’t Be Helped Because I Want to Get Better”

— Thank you very much for giving us your valuable time today.

Hanyu: Thank you very much.

— I feel that you always put into practice the attitude of “never cutting corners.” How was that kind of sincere approach toward things born? And does acting that way lead to your sense of satisfaction?

Hanyu: The expression “it leads to satisfaction” doesn’t quite sit right with me, or rather… how should I put it… I think it’s more accurate to say, “I don’t know any other option.”

For example, ways of thinking like “I have to give it my all” or “I won’t compromise on a single thing,” it’s not that I intentionally hold those as some core principle. It’s more that when I’m just in my natural state, that’s what ends up happening. That feels right to me.

— That expression is very interesting. The other day, I watched the final performance of Yuzuru Hanyu ICE STORY 3rd “Echoes of Life” TOUR, and the venue was a whirl of joy with a standing ovation. How does “Yuzuru Hanyu, who strives for perfection,” receive those voices praising you?

Hanyu:To be honest, I’m genuinely happy. 

Since turning professional, I now place myself in a world where “expression” is given great importance. But within that, jumps, spins, skating skills—physical elements and technical elements—have also become extremely important. “Expression” is only possible based on these.　I'm really feeling it now..

It’s not like I can go mistake-free at every single performance. But even if it isn’t mistake-free, there is still a story that comes across within it, and there are inner landscapes that are drawn within it.

Of course, as the performer, my own emotions change every time as well. They change depending on how well I did or didn’t do, and also on that day’s condition, or the weather, or the atmosphere of that day. Because of those things, emotions keep changing more and more.

— I see.

Hanyu: So, I do feel something like a sense of satisfaction in thinking, “They’re receiving that.” It’s somewhere completely unrelated to things like “because I’m a perfectionist” or “I have to give it my all.”

Of course, as for me, I do think, as expected, “I want to be mistake-free,” and from the bottom of my heart I want to deliver to everyone a technically perfect state every single time. On the other hand, there is also a version of myself that thinks, “That wasn’t perfect.” But in those parts that weren’t perfect, there are also moments when something like humanity—or in the case of Echoes, something like “Nova-ness”—is born. So there is something like a sense of achievement in feeling, “That was received.”

— Sometimes, even if you make a mistake, it feels as though that too is part of the work itself. You often say, “I want to get better.” How good would you have to become to be satisfied? How much better do you want to become, in terms of both expression and technique, as you mentioned?

Hanyu: I haven’t really drawn a picture of “how far,” no.

For example, I do draw short-term visions, like, “By next week I’ll do this,” or “By next month I’ll be like this.” By drawing those, I think I’m able to spend each day in a way that makes achieving them possible, and I create my practice plans and training plans by calculating backward from there. So short-term ideal forms do exist. But when I think in a long-term way, roughly about “how far I want to go,” if you ask whether it’s truly correct to decide that… I feel like, “Hmm… maybe that’s not quite right.”

— Why is that?

Hanyu: The “ideal image of a skater” that I think of now—or something like “the ideal Yuzuru Hanyu-ness”—will definitely be something different tomorrow, I think. And while thinking that it changes every time, I also feel, “This reflects who I am.” So, for example, by doing an interview like this and answering here, and putting into words, “I want to get this good,” I feel it would be a shame if my vision of the future became too fixed, in my view. 

— That’s a very interesting way of thinking. “It would be a shame” you say?

Hanyu: Isn’t it a shame?

For example, if it’s the result of an Olympic “gold medal,” I think you can say as a goal, “I want to go at least that far.” But you can’t state the content of the performance, can you?

Is it “I want to land a quadruple Lutz and then win the gold medal”? Or is it “a competition I can win even without a quadruple Lutz”? Depending on the situation at that time, the performance itself—or rather, my own ability level—will probably be something completely different. I think it will be a different form.

Right now, since there’s almost no concept of “results (competitive standings)” accompanying what I do, when I think about something like “my ideal form,” I can be relatively free. While setting small goals like, “This month I reached here, so next I’ll go here,” I want to keep looking forward, for my whole life, to seeing how far that staircase continues. Of course, in the sense of being a professional skater, I have to put on shows, so I also have to think about numbers and such. But let set that aside for a moment—

— That’s wonderful. Is that the fate that Yuzuru Hanyu bears? Or is it a responsibility?

Hanyu: That’s probably just my personality. It’s not because I became Yuzuru Hanyu or anything like that, it’s more like I’ve had this kind of personality since the moment I was born into this world. (laughs)

— When I previously spoke with Alexei Mishin, he praised you very highly, and also said, “Yuzuru Hanyu lives in a way that is, in a sense, very dangerous, like walking on the edge of a blade.” How do you feel about those words from Coach Mishin?

Hanyu: Within myself, I don’t feel like I’m walking on the edge of a blade (laughs). And it’s not like I chose to walk on a blade either, but… when I look back, I do feel like it’s ended up that way… how should I put it. [TN: “Yaiba no ue wo aruku” is a Japanese expression that describes being in an extremely dangerous or high-risk situation.”]

I’m someone who seeks maximum efficiency, relatively speaking, ever since I was little.

— What do you mean by that?

Hanyu: For example, something that another skater might be able to master in about 10 tries, I feel like I need about 50 tries to master it.

Of course, from someone else’s point of view, they might say, “You’re already doing it better than average in 10 tries.” But within myself, the quality at which I feel I’ve “mastered” something is probably higher than other people’s. So when people around me say, “If you can do it this well in 10 tries, that’s already a success,” inside myself I think, “In 10 tries I can’t do it at all,” and I end up doing it 50 times.

Because I’ve done those 50 times, there have been many times I’ve gotten injured, and I’ve also pushed my body to the point of breaking it. I was born with asthma as well, so even though I tend to push myself harder than others, there were probably times when I couldn’t quite push all the way through. So since I was little, I was always thinking about things like, “How can I grow faster?” or “How can I get better faster?”

Part of that was because I had my older sister there, and I always thought, “I want to catch up to her.” And I moved up from junior to senior at quite a young age, so I also had the feeling of, “I have to catch up to the senior skaters quickly,” “If I don’t get better quickly, I won’t be able to compete in this world.”

Because of those things, I think I was always seeking maximum efficiency. But maximum efficiency has both advantages and disadvantages. For example, let’s say there’s a training method where, “If you can fully carry this out, your success rate will increase with amazing efficiency.” But at the same time, it might also be a training method where, “If you make one wrong step, you’ll immediately get injured.”

In terms of that sense of balance, maybe compared to others I tend to disregard the disadvantages, like injuries. Or rather, you could say that I can’t think about anything except “I want to get better.”

From other people’s perspective, walking on the edge of a blade or living as if I’m rushing through life might look like a very nerve-wracking way to exist. But within myself, it’s more like, “I want to get better, so it can’t be helped.” (laughs)

— That way of thinking is incredible. As I asked earlier, is that proof of a champion? Or is it pride?

Hanyu: Maybe this is also what you’d call an innate personality?

Of course, I think there are acquired aspects too. As I said earlier, I was in an environment where I had to catch up quickly to my seniors, and since I was little I had my sister as a goal. So from the time I was born, I kept thinking, “I want to catch up quickly,” “I want to be able to do the same things quickly.”

As a result, I think I ended up becoming someone like, “I don’t care if I get injured or whatever!” “I’m absolutely going to get better!”

On the other hand, because I won gold medals and such, there were times when I thought, “There are this many people who are happy because of this,” or “Because there are this many people supporting me, I have to get even better.” That wasn’t pride or arrogance, if anything, it was pressure.

— Pressure?

Hanyu: Yes. I’ve had a strong feeling that “I don’t like myself who can’t deliver despite everyone’s support.” 

— But weren’t you delivering properly?

Hanyu: Within myself, I’m aiming for a no-miss performance every single time, so competitions where mistakes come out are, as expected, frustrating. And there were competitions where I didn’t win as a result, so at times like that, I also felt that I didn’t want the fans to have to feel the frustration of “not winning.”

— Thank you for thinking that way.

Hanyu: In this sport, on the ice we are fighting alone, and I believe all responsibility lies with myself. But there’s no doubt that I’m putting strength into it together with everyone who supports me, and truly, everyone goes into competitions carrying all kinds of feelings, don’t they?

I strongly feel those things all gathering to me in a single moment. So when I couldn’t achieve it, there was always something like frustration, or a sense of apology. I think that’s something that was always there—and still is.

— Those feelings are what make your skating more and more beautiful. In this book, I wrote about you, “Is that even a human being?” You’re so beautiful that it feels like you’re not human at all.

Hanyu: (embarrassed) Thank you very much.

— When you step onto the rink, there’s a beauty that makes it hard to breathe.

Hanyu: But please do breathe, okay? (laughs)

— Thank you (laughs). Since you turned professional, I feel that more and more. What do you think has changed the most within yourself compared to your amateur days?

Hanyu: Let’s see… what has changed…

When I was competing, I absolutely had to get points, and there was always the feeling that, “If I’m going to compete, I want to win.” Of course, I believe the support from everyone was support for the moments when I could perform without mistakes and achieve my goals. But how should I say it… I always had the sense that I was skating on the foundation of “battle.”

So there were restrictions of rules like, “I have to do this movement,” or “I have to skate this way,” first and then there were so many questions of, “What do you want to express?” Looking back now, I feel that very strongly.

Now, especially when I do solo ice shows, it’s like, “At last I can express many different sides.” Using the many different aspects of skating within myself—including both movements I’m good at and movements I’m not good at—I can use all of it and deliver it to everyone. As an artist, that’s what feels the most enjoyable right now.

As I said earlier, before, there was always the foundation of “battle,” and what I wanted to express existed in that context. So in a way, there were also many things I “didn’t have to practice.” I only had to sharpen the “blade for battle,” so I didn’t need other weapons. But now, in order to create various kinds of expressions, I have to practice many different things. Including the way I train myself, I strongly feel that this has changed a lot.

— I feel that the precision of your dance and your balletic beauty have increased more and more. Is there anywhere that you personally feel has improved?

Hanyu: When I look now at performances up through Beijing, honestly, there are parts where I think, “My use of my body was clumsy.”

It’s difficult to clearly put into words, “This is what improved,” but for example, even the position of my center of gravity when standing has become completely different.

Up until now, I was in a so-called imitation state—thinking, “I want to make this kind of shape,” and trying to do it. But little by little, from understanding, “Ah, if I use my body like this, it becomes like this,” it has started to come out naturally.

I think that’s a big difference compared to when I was competing.

— Coach Shoichiro Tsuzuki has said, “Since turning professional, Yuzuru has become even more beautiful, and there’s no one else in the world who can still jump with the same level of technique as during his competitive days, he’s a god.”

Hanyu: At the foundation of myself, when I think, “This is the kind of skating I want to do,” or rather, when I can imagine an ideal image of skating and think, “I want to skate like this,” it’s actually myself in fourth grade of elementary school.

Of course, at that time my use of my body was still clumsy, and my edge work wasn’t that strong either. But that was the period when I most thoroughly did fundamental practice—really polishing things like the extension of a single cross step, the accuracy of how I lean my edges—truly refining those things and making them beautiful.

Back then, I was still only at the stage of earnestly doing crossovers, earnestly skating. But even now, I still think that I want to be able to perform that level of earnest skating, with my upper body completely free, in a state where I can say, “I can move however I want.”

So I still feel that I really love Tsuzuki-sensei’s skating. In reality, there are plenty of times when I think, “I’m not able to do it” though (laughs).

— That performance of From Russia with Love at Jingu (the 2004 All Japan Novice Championships, held at Meiji Jingu Gaien Ice Skating Rink) was wonderfully beautiful, the skating stretched so smoothly, didn’t it? There was speed, the spins were beautiful, and the positions had originality. You were truly skillful, even back then.

Hanyu: After being coached by Tsuzuki-sensei up until fourth grade, when I entered fifth grade, the judging system changed from the 6.0 system to the current new scoring system.

Because of that, it became an era where skating itself was rather neglected.

No matter how much effort you put in, skating skills don’t improve easily. And with jump and spin points becoming clearly quantified, inevitably the focus shifted there. It became an era where, “If you don’t jump, you can’t win.”

As a result, from fourth grade through the upper elementary years, into junior high and high school—during the period when the body gradually becomes stiffer and range of motion narrows—I ended up spending those years immersed in jumps.

— I see.

Hanyu: So from there, I honestly always had the feeling that my skating skills were gradually declining.

That’s why, even now, whenever I watch that fourth-grade performance at Jingu’s All Japan Novice, I think, “He’s really good after all.” I even think, “If a kid like that showed up, that would be trouble.” (laughs)

 

Where Is He Heading Now?

 

— I heard that you are currently in a period of body maintenance. Could you tell us about your current situation?

Hanyu: For now, I’m reassessing things like how I use my body.

— Specifically, what does that involve?

Hanyu: It’s similar to what I mentioned earlier, but up until now, I’ve always lived in “imitation.”

For example, I would repeatedly watch on video what a choreographer created, compare it to myself in the mirror, and keep repeating the process of asking, “Am I making the same pose?”

With jumps as well, when I happened to land a beautiful jump, I’d think, “It came out nicely when I did it like this, so I’ll imitate that,” and keep refining the precision that way. That’s what I’ve been doing all along.

— I see.

Hanyu: And then, starting around my second year as a professional, I suddenly began strength training. (laughs)

— Strength training?

Hanyu: Yes. As a result of bringing in knowledge that I had never encountered while doing figure skating before, I started strength training little by little, really from the most basic level.

I studied hard in order to get better. But while producing shows and continuing my usual practice—skating while constantly being chased by deadlines and responsibilities—I began to feel that it was still only shallow self-study.

There was never time to once dismantle the way I used my body—which had been based on imitation—or the theory behind my jumps. Now, I’m dismantling everything and reviewing all of my habits from scratch.

What made me prone to injury? How can I become better anatomically? How can I achieve more supple body movement? I’m spending a lot of time studying those things as I go through this period.

— So you’re working on things you couldn’t before.

Hanyu: Yes. Perhaps when I show everyone my skating after this maintenance period, people might not think, “His performance changed drastically,” or “It became something completely different.”

But right now, I’m breaking down each and every movement, trying things like, “Let’s do this more like this,” or “There’s this kind of body theory, so let’s try using it,” studying as I go. So I’m spending this time hoping that I can bring it to a point where people might think, “Somehow he became more beautiful,” or “Somehow he became better.”

— Is this time of building yourself that way a happy time for you?

Hanyu: I feel a sense of fulfillment.

— And that sense of fulfillment, does it also support you mentally, as we discussed in the first question?

Hanyu: That feels separate. How should I put it…

As for the mental side, I’m now able to take time in a different way to reflect on my heart and on my life.

— I’m glad to hear you’re able to take that kind of time.

Hanyu: I’m spending this period really looking closely at myself.

I also think that, ultimately, that will come alive when I create something, when I write something, or choreograph something, things like that.

Of course, I don’t think at all that who I was up until now was wrong. But I’ve been thinking about things like, “What have I been keeping inside my heart?” or “What has been moving me forward?” or “How have I been living?”

During Echoes, most of what I had studied was still just at the introductory level, so I wasn’t thinking that deeply yet.

Now, I’m repeatedly questioning myself and digging deeper, and I’m spending this time thinking, “I want to raise the purity of my own heart.” At least, when it comes to the mental side.

— I also wrote this in the book, but I believe your very existence has saved many people and made many people happy. Myself included, we’ve received so much happiness from you. What is something that allows you to make yourself happy? It could be something simple, like eating your favorite food. What makes you happiest?

Hanyu: Hmm…………… ……………… hmm…… (thinking intently)

That’s something I’m searching for right now. When I was asked that, I thought it was very difficult. I feel like surface-level “fun” or “happiness” can be created relatively easily.

But since I’ve been given this time, and I’m creating this kind of time for myself, and I keep asking the question, “What is my happiness?” I’ve lived my whole life thinking, “I have to meet everyone’s expectations.” So when everyone is happy, that truly makes me happy.

— Thank you.

Hanyu: I’m really, truly happy, that part. Of course, that’s also the moment when the things I practiced and worked hard for are rewarded, so I do get to taste my own sense of achievement there. So I think that moment is indeed very happy for me.

But recently, when I think deeply about the happiness of the people who support me, I’ve started to feel that if I keep neglecting my own happiness while trying my hardest to “create happiness for everyone,” then wouldn't that be trying to impose happiness on everyone?

So I feel that I need to properly search for moments when I can say “I’m happy,” first, moments when I feel fulfilled on my own feet, from my own core. If I don’t stand firmly in that, I won’t be able to confidently offer happiness to everyone. Right now, I’m working hard to find that (laughs).

It’s like what we were saying about Coach Mishin, while I’ve been crossing dangerous bridges all this time, if you ask, “What lies beyond that dangerous bridge?” at the center there has always been something like “someone’s smiling face.” I’m realizing now that that’s how I’ve lived.

So even though I wrote the story Echoes of Life (laughs), I’m once again thinking, “So then, what am I?” I’ve been constantly thinking about, “What is myself?”

RE_PRAY and GIFT are like that too, I personally feel they’re far too introspective. That’s part of their strength, but at the same time, I keep thinking that unless I continue to update myself, I’ll only be able to write stories like that.

In that sense as well, I’m on something like a journey of searching for myself.

 

Searching for Happiness

 

— From the interviewer’s point of view, you already firmly possess a sense of yourself. That’s precisely why you can produce that beauty and make so many people happy. There aren’t many people like that.

Hanyu: Thank you very much.

— You mentioned that you’re spending your days in this way now. If it’s alright to ask, could you tell us the general flow of a typical day, from waking up to going to bed?

Hanyu: I wake up…

— What time do you wake up?

Hanyu: The time varies a bit.

— It varies?

Hanyu: Yes, it depends on what time practice is. So I can’t specify a clear time. Sometimes I wake up early in the morning, and sometimes I wake up in the evening.

Practice times also shift earlier or later, so it’s hard to fix it. But as a routine, I wake up, stretch, move my body, do exercises, then train.

— Is that training at the rink?

Hanyu: I do it off-ice. I train how to use my body and work on improving flexibility. Then I eat, stretch, take a nap, train, eat, take a bath, stretch, and sleep (laughs).

— Is that all? If it’s just that, it would only take a few lines to write. Isn’t there anything else you do?

Hanyu: (thinking deeply) Hmm…

— “I will write here: ‘At this point, Yuzuru Hanyu thought.’”

Hanyu: Hahaha (laughs).

— So it’s something that requires that much thought?

Hanyu: That’s the thing. There really isn’t anything else.

I’ve been given this maintenance period, but I end up spending almost all of my time on something related to skating.

— What about music or games?

Hanyu: In the end, even games, I play them while stretching.

— Ah, I see.

Hanyu: When I stretch for a long time, I gradually get exhausted mentally, so I’ll stretch while playing a game. Or rather, I’ll stretch while watching videos.

— How about meals?

Hanyu: At least when I’m eating, I just eat normally (laughs).

That’s about it.

Yesterday, for example, I was stretching and training so much that I wondered how many total hours I had spent stretching.

— But for someone who is searching for “What is Yuzuru Hanyu?” that must also be a very fulfilling day.

Hanyu: Yes. Manga, anime, games, they all expose you to various words, don’t they?

Music as well. Each time I encounter certain words like that, I feel it becomes an opportunity to think about myself.

And while doing that, I stretch or train (laughs).

— So as you spend your days training like this, is there anything else you feel you need right now? Something you feel you want?

Hanyu: Hmm………

— So that’s something you have to think about as well?

Hanyu: In the end, I think it connects to what I was saying earlier, like, “What is happiness?” And I’m still in the middle of searching for that too.

— The fact that even after thinking so much about what you need, an answer doesn’t come out, does that mean, in a way, that you are at least somewhat satisfied with your current self?

Hanyu: I wonder…? Maybe it’s because I’m not fulfilled that I’m able to try so hard, or something like that. What is it… In moments when I’m desperately throwing myself into something, or when I achieve a goal, I think a lot of dopamine comes out, serotonin too, in those moments. So maybe I’m just relentlessly seeking that, that’s something I’ve been thinking about recently.

If, by some chance, this thing called skating were to disappear from this world, and the opportunities to be supported, or the opportunities to perform for everyone, were to completely vanish—and in that world, this thing called “me” were still living—I really wonder, “What would this guy be living for? What would he be finding happiness in?” I think about that a lot.

— That’s deep. Very deep.

Hanyu: For example, when someone asks, “What do you want?” or “What makes you happy?”

I think people around me probably feel this way too, but if you say, “If you subtract skating from the thing called Yuzuru Hanyu, what remains?” then it would be like,"What is it?" I've been doing too much skating in my life, so I've been living with a sense of urgency lately, like, “I have to properly find that.”

— Skating won’t disappear, so you’ll always be happy, Hanyu-san. We want to keep watching you, truly.

Hanyu: After all, the body is finite, isn’t it? No matter what. Like Tsuzuki-sensei said, the fact that I can still jump quadruples at this age is honestly rather extraordinary. And I do think that’s the result of my own effort. And more than anything, I strongly feel that “this body itself is the gift.” But right now, I can see the staircase that leads upward for stepping up. However, I do think that someday the day will come when I’ll be descending that staircase. And when that day comes—when I have to go down those steps—I wonder if I’ll be able to maintain myself. There’s a kind of precariousness there.

— I really understand. For someone like you, who seems to stake your dedication, your life—everything—on skating, when the time comes to descend those steps, I imagine it will be very hard.

Hanyu: So, of course, turning 30—numerically speaking, it’s a kind of milestone year—but I don’t think the answer to these things will come out during this maintenance period either. There are people in their 80s, people in their 90s, people who live to 100, and when asked, “Are you happy to be alive?” there are many who answer, “Happiness… I don’t know.” So I don’t think it’s something you can find that easily. But to keep searching for something like that—to keep searching for that thing called happiness, that core that exists within my own center, within my soul—I think that’s probably a very good thing.

— It’s wonderful. However, Tatiana Tarasova-sensei said, “There is not a single thing that Yuzuru Hanyu lacks as a skater.”

Hanyu: (laughs)

— And when I tried to talk about you, she said, “It’s fine, I know everything about Yuzuru.”

Hanyu: That’s amazing, isn’t it? Truly. When I hear stories like, “Mishin-sensei said this about Yuzuru Hanyu,” or “Tarasova-san said this,” I really think I want to let my fourth-grade self hear that.

— Right.

Hanyu: Truly. Like, “That coach of Plushenko and Yagudin, sitting in the kiss-and-cry, is praising you so much,” you know? I think I would have been so happy.

— As you mentioned earlier, now that you’re 30, can you imagine the world that only 40-year-old Yuzuru Hanyu could create 10 years from now?

Hanyu: That exists too, you know. There are definitely people who watch and are moved even without jumps. If even at this age I’m able to place just the tip of my toes into that realm, then if I keep working hard at skating for another 10 years, I feel like I could do much, much more than I can now, that sense definitely exists. So I do want to pursue that as well.

But when I think, “I want to express that,” I suppose it would require something like maturity, that adult feeling (laughs), how should I put it? A slightly aged, matured feeling. I talked about wine before in relation to Ballade No. 1, but if there is such a thing as a more matured version of my skating, then within the core, I would need to have a beauty different from my current purity—how should I say it—something like a crystal-like beauty.

The core that exists inside my heart right now, that center, still feels more like a rough stone. Various things are attached to it. Other rocks, different substances clinging to it. I call that “my core.” Until now, I was afraid to shave it down. But I want to properly cut it, and make it into a more pure, beautiful “my core,” with a diamond-like cut. If I can properly pare it down to that extent, then I somehow feel that even in my 40s, I might be able to skate in a way appropriate to that age.

— Oh, you absolutely can. But right now you feel you are still halfway there.

Hanyu: Recently I’ve been thinking that being halfway there as a skater and being halfway there as a human being are, more or less, the same thing. Maybe it’s since I started creating shows. I have to create stories, I have to create choreography, I have to deliver things to everyone, and right now I’m just desperately working at that. I was originally the type who thinks a lot, but because I’m in that kind of world, I feel even more that “the human called me really comes out on the ice.” So as a human being, while becoming something of higher purity, and at the same time refining more and more the way I use my body now, my training and such, I feel like if I polish those things further, maybe I’ll move closer to my ideal self.

 

I’ve lived trying very hard

— Regarding your next show, how are you thinking about it? Within yourself, will it become a show where the bar rises even higher?

Hanyu: It’s not that I’m thinking, “Let’s raise the bar,” but somehow, when I create something, the bar ends up rising (laughs). But, well, human beings grow as they age, so I suppose if the bar rises, it can’t be helped.

— There aren’t many people who can raise the bar by saying, “It can’t be helped,” truly.

Hanyu: No, but… it’s more like I’ve never been satisfied with the current situation, or rather, I don’t know how to be satisfied. So I think that when I skate again, the bar will probably have risen.

— Isn’t a way of living where you don’t know how to feel satisfied painful?

Hanyu: Lately, I’ve been thinking that, if I look very, very closely, maybe I am suffering. If I really look closely.

— If you really look closely (laughs).

Hanyu: If I don’t look closely, I realize I’ve been living like, “No, it’s totally fun, isn’t it?”, that kind of feeling. Looking back now, I keep thinking that. If I really focus my eyes and look carefully at the weakness in my heart. I think that that weakness in my heart is probably the eye that finds the greatest truth. So I want to treasure that. Because my heart is very weak, I think I’m a typical case of someone who became very good at arming himself with theory all the more because of that weakness. I want to continue arming myself with theory while still remaining weak-hearted, and keep growing.

— That attitude is important not only as a skater, but also as a human being. What you just said.

Hanyu: There is absolutely no human being who can say, “I am 100% happy from the bottom of my heart.” Rather, no matter what kind of lifeform it is, there will always be some kind of negative emotion—or in Buddhist terms, something like worldly desires—those kinds of things will inevitably arise, no matter what. And I kind of feel that those things have been steadily eating away at the heart.

So once, I tried to wipe them all away. I tried to remove everything and become “a perfect version of myself,” and I worked hard for that, but unexpectedly I realized, “Ah, I’m human too” (laughs). So while sharing that (inevitability) with everyone, even if suffering exists within all of us, I want to keep trying so that we can become moments where we can still feel happiness (together). I don’t really know how to put it, though.

— How is it, continuing to face new shows and going through the process of completing them?

Hanyu: Well, creating is hard, isn’t it? Bringing words into existence is a very hard task, and any act of creating or producing something absolutely involves the pains of creation. So there’s absolutely no moment where I think, “I’m 100% happy.” I think it’s made up of about 10% happiness and 90% suffering.

— I see. I understand very well. At the final performance of Echoes (tour), when you said, “Signature piece, ‘SEIMEI’!” your legs were unsteady, but even so, I felt something like an aura of happiness, or perhaps the beauty of someone who had given it their all.

Hanyu: Because I’m Hanyu, I think I want my “way of dying” to be like that (laughs).

— In other words, does that mean “to live better”?

Hanyu: At the very, very end, I want to be able to look back and think, “I tried very hard. I lived trying very hard. I ran very hard. But I’m glad I ran.” I want it to be that kind of life.

 

So that I can become even better

 

— You often say, “It only counts if you jump.” Usually, when athletes retire from competition, their technical ability declines. But even after turning professional, you have maintained your technique and are jumping multiple quadruples. Regarding the greatness of Yuzuru Hanyu, who not only maintains his technique but continues to evolve, do you yourself feel anything about that?

Hanyu: When I look at my jumps from my competitive days now, I think, “Wow, I was bad at that” (laughs). That’s how much various things inside me have been updated. Before, there were parts where I jumped kind of “somehow,” or just powered through with strength. When I was in high school, for example, I really did everything with just power, or rather, I jumped with nothing but fighting spirit and recklessness. There are many instances like that. When I think about that, I feel like “Right now is when I’m the best.”

— Tsuzuki-sensei also said, “He just keeps getting better.” “There’s no one like him.”

Hanyu: I think it’s because I’ve been able to keep studying continuously. Of course, whether the direction of that studying directly connects to changes that are easily visible—like “the distance increased” or “the height increased”—it can be difficult sometimes.

But if you look closely and carefully at the inside, things like, “It somehow looks cleaner,” or “It seems like I can jump without forcing it,” those are also part of technique. And I really feel that those kinds of things have accumulated tremendously. So compared to myself around age 27, I now have more knowledge, and I’ve continued training for three more years since then. As experience points, it’s something completely different, I do feel that I’ve evolved.

— Normally, as age increases, the physical side declines, doesn’t it? The fact that you’re able to maintain it—and even make it more beautiful—is that effort? Talent?

Hanyu: Um… studying (laughs). I’ve never once thought, “I’m going to maintain it.” Even now, I still think, “I want to be able to land a quadruple Axel.”

— That’s very like you, Hanyu-san, very positive.

Hanyu: How should I put it…? As I keep studying more and more, I’m able to learn many different things, and various theories come in, and I’m in the middle of realizing, “The world I didn’t know was this vast.”

— Speaking of which, Mishin-sensei said, “Unless we change the (conventional) theory, we won’t be able to jump the quadruple Axel.”

Hanyu: Of course, there’s the theory Mishin-sensei talks about, and I incorporate that as well. But on the other hand, when I try to apply that theory, there’s also something like “the body of myself that can’t do it,” and I sometimes end up going to jump from a position where it’s like, “No matter what, it just becomes like this.”

So when I study how to change that, or how to use the body in a way that transmits force more efficiently, just as Mishin-sensei says, before I know it, the theory itself has changed, something like that happens too. So when it comes to maintaining muscle, honestly, my muscle mass itself hasn’t changed that much since I was 27. Rather than training because I think, “I have to maintain it,” it feels more like I’m practicing so that I can become even better.

— You say that so casually, but it’s not something most people can say. Normally, things decline.

Hanyu: But right now I’m strongly feeling that the field of figure skating itself is very vague, and that we’ve been taught based on very ambiguous theories. So when I think, “Let’s learn more about the body and then do it,” the parts that used to be vague, it feels like it could continue forever. The more I learn about parts of the body I hadn’t been using, or methods of transmitting force that I hadn’t been able to use before, the more I feel that it’s only ever been a matter of tasks that allow me to improve. On the other hand, if this were baseball, for example, it’s a field that’s much more researched—using cutting-edge anatomical data and body mechanics—so there might be a moment where you feel, “Maybe I can’t improve any further.”

Conversely, I haven’t incorporated those kinds of theories nearly enough. Figure skating as a field is rather minor, so there’s a reality that it hasn’t adopted the most advanced things to that extent. So the more I study, the more I see is room to grow. So since becoming a professional, I’ve never felt, “There’s nothing beyond this.” Rather, when I was around 25, 26, 27, I might have felt more like, “Maybe there’s nothing beyond this.”

Thinking about expression

— These are also your own words: that you sometimes ask yourself, “What do you know about expression?”

Hanyu: Yes, I do.

— Have you found the answer within?

Hanyu: No, I haven’t found it at all. But I think that things that could only be obtained “on the battlefield of competition” can surely become part of expression as well. There are many people in this world who specialize in expression, aren’t there? From very long ago—like Chopin, or Da Vinci—those who have created what we call art, I think they specialize in expression. But if you ask whether they were in a place of battle, they weren’t in a competitive arena like ours.

On the other hand, I was doing something like “the world of expression,” but it was still the field of competition. I think I’ve always stored up the kinds of emotions and impressions that are born from there. That’s why, while using those, I think I need to incorporate even more the knowledge, the ways of thinking, the philosophy of expression from people who specialize in that area.

— In relation to the expression you idealize, about where would you say you are now?

Hanyu: Um… maybe about 0.2% (laughs).

— What!?!? It’s already breathtakingly beautiful, truly.

Hanyu: No, really, there’s always this feeling of, “I want to do it like this instead.” When I’m watching my own performance and that feeling of “I want to do it more like this” is being born, I think, “This isn’t the time to be talking about ‘expression’ yet.” If you ask how long that will continue, I think it will continue my whole life.

— That’s tough. It sounds painful.

Hanyu: But probably… maybe Chopin or Liszt were the same. Chopin had a very short life, but he wrote many pieces and was highly praised when he played the piano, yet I think they probably never felt satisfied until the day they died. So someone who’s still just a newly turned professional, a mere beginner, isn’t in a position to easily say, “Okay, I’ve achieved it.”

— Even so, 0.2%?

Hanyu: I live thinking, “It’s a long way to reach 1%.”

— Even 1% is far! But that really sounds like typical Hanyu-san’s words. 

Hanyu: Maybe about 2 out of 1000, after all. Also, now that I’m doing Ice Stories, I strongly feel that it’s something that can exist precisely because I’m not creating it alone. To reach that point, the power of many different people exists. Because, every time I see the completed music, or the visuals, or the lighting direction, I’m deeply moved myself. I receive so many shocks and emotions that I think, “A world like this wouldn’t come out from inside me alone.” So I strongly feel that “I’m not creating this by myself.”

During Prologue, I was still thinking, “I have to do it,” and I was overwhelmed, like, “I have to create it, I have to create it,” getting very intense about it. But from around GIFT, it became okay to entrust things completely, or rather, to entrust them in a good way, to rely on others in a good way. A sense of reassurance that “Everyone will properly create it, so it’s okay,” and a sense of comradeship began to grow. I strongly feel that it’s a work that exists precisely because we build it together like that.

The Great East Japan Earthquake

— Then, this is a different question, but please tell me about the earthquake disaster. The other day there was news that remains whose identity had been unknown were confirmed to belong to a six-year-old girl. I have done various reporting on the disaster (Blue Impulse: 35-Second Miracle, published by Shogakukan), so it makes my chest tighten a little, but I imagine that for you as well, that earthquake is something that never truly ends. The pain you feel from that disaster, the suffering, the tragedy, could you tell us one thing about that?

Hanyu: Mmm…… (long silence) Mmm. “Mine” is okay, right?

— Yes.

Hanyu: (further silence) When I look back, the biggest feeling is, “It will never return to what it was……” Because of that single moment—just one minute, a little over two minutes—so many things were truly broken and lost. That includes material things, and also in terms of daily life and livelihood. I feel strongly that “so many things were truly broken and lost.” And we can never return there. From 2:46 [the time of the Great Japan Earthquake and Tsunami, 2:46 pm].

— Yes. On that Friday.

Hanyu: To return to the time before that. To the time that, until that instant, had been flowing normally as everyday life, there will never, ever be a time when that comes back. When I think that, it does make me feel sad. There are many things I remember. Even now, when an earthquake happens, I think, “It’s scary.” I feel that it’s probably not something that will ever simply disappear, for the rest of my life.

From that March 11 onward—well, speaking just for myself—for about a week, maybe ten days, maybe about a month… after about a month, somehow, time began to flow in the direction of, “So this is how I’m going to live.” Into the flow of time called “skating,” I somehow just slipped into it naturally, and that’s how I’ve come this far.

— So many people’s lives changed drastically. What kind of influence has the disaster continued to have on your life as a skater? Of course, we know well how you have been involved, but is there something you can tell us now, in your own words?

Hanyu: I feel like I’ve come to a place that’s far removed from what I drew in my childhood. Yep. The meaning of skating that I imagined as a child, the programs I was skating, compared to those things, I’ve come to a place that’s truly far away. After all, because of the disaster, skating for it, thinking about it, that became one of the meanings of why I skate. In that sense, as a skating life, I feel like “I had no choice but to change,” or rather, “I was made to change.”

— In Miyagi, I once saw a Christmas tree decorated with message cards. On one of them were the words, “Yuzuru Hanyu-san,You can do it! Thank you.” When I saw that, I felt again that you are someone who heals people who have been hurt. That’s why your skating is beautiful.

Let’s live tomorrow as well

— That was a painful topic. Thank you for answering.

Hanyu: No, thank you.

When I was asked about the disaster just now, the fact that no words came out… it made me think that, rather than anything else, I myself haven’t really faced the disaster. I haven’t really faced it as something personal. I was more concerned about other people’s disaster, about how much suffering people were going through, and the feeling of “I have to skate in a way that takes that into account” was stronger. And I thought, “Ah… this is how I’ve lived.”

To say, “I’m suffering,” or “I suffered,” about myself, that’s actually much harder than I thought. It’s hard to say. Because I’ve seen so many people who suffered far more than I did. So I don’t know what to say. When I look back at myself, I think, “I didn’t suffer at all," but then I also think, “No, I did suffer at that time,” and I’ve been thinking about various things.

I’m sure Utsunomiya-san, too, in your reporting and writing, often writes about other people’s lives. So maybe it’s okay to take a little more care of yourself. We people who write things… I realized that we surprisingly don’t look at ourselves very much. So maybe we should all look at ourselves a little more.

— Thank you. It’s been a happy time for me.

Hanyu: No, no, thank you.

— You must be tired after spending a long hour and a half with us today.

Hanyu: Not at all. There's still time. If it's an hour and a half. I have one minute left (laughs).

— Listening to what you’ve just said, Hanyu-san, what really struck me deeply was your words, “It’s no longer the skating life I imagined when I was little.”

Hanyu: It was something that made me change. There was nothing I could do about it, was there? As a human being, in the face of that event. So I think I just had no choice but to adapt like that. The gold medalist I imagined when I was little was more carefree, and had a much more simple image of just skating. So in that sense, I did think, “It’s changed so much.”

But skating is something that has many opportunities to be seen by everyone, and I have chances like this to talk about it. However, when it comes to the earthquake disaster, it’s not just me, regardless of whether someone directly experienced it or not, I think that from that day onward, almost everyone’s life changed in various ways. So in that sense, maybe we’re all the same. And when I think, “Maybe we’re all the same,” then I think, “Well, then I’ll make myself part of it, too,” “It can’t be helped, I’ll make myself part of it,” and that’s how I was speaking.

— During shows, you always say to your fans, “Above all, please live!” That left a very strong impression on me. I felt that perhaps it comes from strong feelings about the lives that wanted to live but could not.

Hanyu: I’ve had quite a few opportunities to come into contact with death. I often say this when talking about the earthquake disaster, but there’s a huge difference between seeing something only as a number and understanding the background that the number “1” carries. When I think about that–there were people who were so loved, who were trying to live, and yet they died– there were times when I found myself thinking things like, “What is the meaning of my own life?” or “Is it really okay for me to be living so carefree like this?”

In that kind of situation, to be honest, I felt that for me to think “I want to live,” I had to forcibly attach various reasons to it. Otherwise, that feeling didn’t really come naturally. As an expressive artist, what I try to convey—whether it’s “GIFT”, “Prologue”, “RE_PRAY”, or “Echoes”—they’re all the same at their core. I believe that at the foundation of all my works, I am absolutely continuing to say, “Keep living.”

So I want to keep doing that. Continuing to do that might also be, in some way, me telling myself, “Live.” A person’s life can disappear quite easily. Life disappears easily. And there are certainly people who would not have died if just one choice had not gone wrong. So I want to continue performing in a way that can guide those choices—even just a little—toward living, again and again.

There are many times when "if you put your mind to it, you can do anything," and humans are surprisingly capable. That's why I really want to perform skating that has meaning, that can make people decide, even just a little, "Yes, I'll live tomorrow!" or "I'll live because I saw this performance." I really think that comes from the earthquake disaster that has happened.

—That’s what I thought. I see.

Hanyu: Yes.

—Hanyu-san, you are wonderful. Truly wonderful.

Hanyu: You are making me blush (laughs).

- - - -

I wonder what kind of expression I had on my face when the interview ended. Yuzuru Hanyu was smiling. The words “pure” and “luminous” perfectly capture his face.

“Thank you for such a long time,” I said.

Hanyu replied, “Not at all. Thank you very much as well. And if it’s an hour and a half, there’s still time. One more minute,” and he laughed briefly.

After pausing slightly as if to confirm something, he continued speaking. It was a very important story.

When speaking with Hanyu, I felt he is extremely dedicated. It far surpassed the Hanyu known from post-competition press conferences or media scrums. It may sound clichéd, but the attitude that came to mind was “like an ascetic monk.” He tries to solve things that most people would give up on, saying, “It’s not something you can think your way out of.” He confronts himself thoroughly and attempts to overcome.

During the interview, he did not affirm himself. He said he was “still in the middle of thinking and searching.” That in itself is wonderful, I think. A life without searching is dull, and spending one’s days without thinking is unbearable. All the more so for someone who aims for great heights.

When I asked where he currently stood in relation to the expression he idealizes, he answered, “About 0.2%, maybe.” This attitude is his essence. Making “not yet” the natural state. It is a difficult way to live, but Yuzuru Hanyu can do it. He is a strong person.

On the other hand, Tatiana Tarasova and Alexei Mishin once said (they both very much enjoy talking about Hanyu; we spoke at length in Russia): “Hanyu is special. Perfect.”

I support the way Hanyu lives. However, I also agree with Tarasova and Mishin. I think neither of them is mistaken. In the truest sense, he is perfect.