[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 Also includes beautiful photos, including unpublished ones!

Included are beautiful photos, including unpublished ones, from "Hanyu Yuzuru notte stellata 2025," "The First Skate," and "Yuzuru Hanyu ICE STORY 2nd "RE_PRAY" TOUR"!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: The Footsteps of a Champion

A Hymn to Him / Act Two Begins

 

-Chapter 2: From Russia with Love

The First Step / Two Influential Figures

 

-Chapter 3: The Words of Shoichiro Tsuzuki

No Need to Worry / Absolute Champion / In A League of his Own / Story About Stockholm / One-Eighth / Merry Christmas / Realm of the Gods / A 9-Year-Old Boy / The Path of an Artist / The Future of Growth / RE_PRAY

 

-Chapter 4: One-of-a-Kind

GIFT / Touching the Heart / Echoes of Life

 

-Chapter 5: Yuzuru Hanyu Speaks
It Can’t Be Helped Because I Want To Get Better / Where Do I Go From Here? / Searching for Happiness / I've Lived My Life Trying Very Hard / So That I Can Become Even Better / Thinking About Expression / The Great East Japan Earthquake / Let's Live Tomorrow Too

 

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

 

A Very Short Afterword
 

[yuzurujenn]

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

 

A Very Short Preface

 

This book, “Dear Yuzuru Hanyu,” includes many essays that were originally serialized in Yama to Keikokusha and Shueisha publications. The first half, in particular, is largely the same as the original, up to chapter four. From chapter five onwards, everything is newly written. New interviews were conducted. I had intended to revise and add to the serialized pieces, but my feelings at the time were, even to my own surprise, so intense that I gave up on the idea.

 

Spoiler

Now, he is in a place far beyond imagination, radiating a truly brilliant light. There are many people in the world who rely on his skating as a source of strength. Some are even very close to me.

 

As I wrote in the first chapter, “A Hymn to Him,” his skating is beautiful. It is rich. One can see the accumulation of his training.

 

It must have been extremely difficult to reach that point. I imagine it was very painful. In Chapter 3, his mentor, Shoichiro Tsuzuki, says, “Hanyu is fiercely competitive,” and I am truly glad that he is.

 

Being “fiercely competitive” is a talent. It helps make dreams come true. It's also fuel for growth. For athletes, it is indispensable.

 

Tsuzuki even calls Hanyu a “god.” Russian figure skating figures of authority such as Tatiana Tarasova and Alexei Mishin also praise him highly. They are utterly captivated by Hanyu. Their admiration is spoken of repeatedly. These words resonated deeply with me.

 

In short, this book is fundamentally a hymn to Yuzuru Hanyu. That is its essence throughout.

 

Now, I am currently away from covering figure skating. The same goes for competitions. I haven't watched much in a while.

 

There is a reason. I was diagnosed with cancer. Over the course of about ten years, I developed cancer twice. Neither time did I change how I lived. I continued working, and I valued time with my family and close friends. I consciously chose a path with fewer regrets.

 

Still, I needed breaks. So I stepped away from some reporting work. Of course, I was not happy about it, but I was not especially disheartened either.

 

My circumstances were not something effort alone could change. So, there was no point in worrying. I should simply appreciate what I could still do.

 

During and after my cancer treatment, I went to two of Hanyu’s ice shows (three times if I include a cinema broadcast in Yokohama). I was so happy, so overwhelmed with joy, that I cried. I've compiled my reports of those experiences in Chapter 4.

 

I'm captivated by his shows. Truly, from the bottom of my heart.

 

During the “Yuzuru Hanyu ICE STORY 3rd ‘Echoes of Life’ TOUR,” my blood pressure was high. I also had a slight headache. So I decided, “I will take it easy today.”

 

But I couldn't help but shout "Bravo!" (quietly, but each time I did, I felt a sharp pain in my temples). Moreover, during the finale, “I Am The Strongest,” I waved both arms within a narrow space so as not to bump into the person next to me. I did so with joy.

 

For me, that's what Yuzuru Hanyu is.

 

[yuzurujenn]

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

 

 

Chapter 1: The Footsteps of a Champion

 

A Hymn to Him

 

I think I first saw Yuzuru Hanyu at the Nobeyama training camp (a national camp for discovering promising new talent). He was among the children gathered from all over Japan, and he shone brightly.

 

Spoiler

A boy with long arms and legs glided across the ice. Drawn to him, I remembered Hanyu's name.

 

As for his talent, I couldn't really tell at the time. Even Hanyu had a time when he was still nobody.

 

I watched him without thinking about the World Championships or the Olympics. I never imagined he would become a champion. After all, he fell quite often.

 

But the boy possessed beauty and grace. He made no effort to hide his fighting spirit or his pride.

 

In other words, he was there to become one of the very best.

 

I don't remember exactly when I became captivated by Yuzuru Hanyu.

 

Above all, his skating flows effortlessly across the ice. His transitions are varied and sophisticated. His speed is incredible. In my view, those qualities deserved even greater recognition.

 

Furthermore, Hanyu's jumps are superb. He performs jumps that seem to soar through the air. The distance he gets on them is remarkable. They are incredibly beautiful and worthy of thunderous applause.

 

I watched his performances with excitement every single time. Eventually, I forgot when it all began. I can no longer remember.

 

I love all of his programs, but my favorite is "SEIMEI." His "SEIMEI" at the 2015–16 NHK Trophy was perfect.

 

Every jump succeeded, including the Salchow and the Toe Loop, as well as three quadruple jumps of two different types. He broke the world-record score at the time, and naturally, Hanyu won.

 

The atmosphere in the arena was incredible. Cheers erupted from every corner, swelling into a great wave that enveloped him.

 

He seemed to be radiating light. He had surpassed mere excellence; he had already become a truly world-class athlete.

 

At the 2014 Sochi Olympics in Russia, Hanyu became an Olympic gold medalist. From then on, he possessed the aura of a champion. An unwavering strength that seemed to define him.

 

After the NHK Trophy, I took a photograph of a support banner displayed at the venue. I asked its owner for permission before taking the picture.

 

That was the first and last time I ever did such a thing. For a while, I even used that photograph as the wallpaper on my phone.

 

"SEIMEI" was also the program with which Yuzuru Hanyu achieved back-to-back Olympic titles.

 

Following his victory in Sochi, he also won in Pyeongchang (2018/South Korea). It was the first successful defense of an Olympic title in men's singles in 66 years.

 

I watched Hanyu's performance of "SEIMEI" in Pyeongchang, crying at the competition venue. I was crying from the moment he stepped onto the ice.

 

I didn't go to Sochi. I was battling cancer. Even in Pyeongchang, I wasn't in perfect health, but I didn't want to miss the opportunity to watch live.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu was standing on Olympic ice. That alone made my heart tremble.

 

I think he must have been born to be loved by many people. He stands on the ice to encourage others and to heal them.

 

I remember PyeongChang clearly.

 

Hanyu had suffered an injury to his right foot. As a result, he made a slight mistake in his jumps during "SEIMEI." Even so, the performance never fell apart. He skated it through to the end perfectly.

 

Perhaps the more one suffers, the harder one fights, and the more steadfastly one refuses to yield, the brighter one shines. What he displayed was a beauty free of all impurities. And once again, he became Olympic champion.

 

The post-competition press conference began later than scheduled. When Hanyu took his seat, the tip of his nose was faintly red.

 

"This competition would have meant nothing if I hadn't won," he said. "I approached it with one goal in mind: securing the result."

 

Throughout the press conference, he wore a smile. He looked genuinely happy. Because of that, the atmosphere was warm and comfortable. I remember many things.

 

Not only the competition itself, but also the atmosphere of the venue and the city, the people, the food I ate, and the drinks I had.

 

All of those memories were gifts Hanyu gave me. They are precious memories. They remain within me, unfaded by time.

 

I have spent many years watching figure skating and writing about it. I am deeply grateful for those years. The existence of Yuzuru Hanyu is also a part of that. I was fortunate to encounter the "absolute champion." I consider myself lucky. He's a gift from heaven.

 

Soon, I'll be hospitalized for my second cancer surgery. I've made a promise to my friends:

 

I'll get better, and we'll go watch skating again.

 

I have no intention of breaking that promise. Nor am I discouraged. I am not sad. The road continues ahead. I want to walk it with a smile.

 

 

 

Act Two Begins

 

Spoiler

On the day Yuzuru Hanyu announced that he was turning professional, I felt strangely unsettled.

 

I was restless and drank several cups of coffee. I sent a LINE message to a close friend and received a reply. Then, I started reading news articles online.

 

Soon, tears began to flow. I wasn't sad. I wasn't lonely either. But I cried for a while.

 

Apparently, the phone at Coach Shoichiro Tsuzuki's house had been ringing nonstop since the night before the press conference. The calls were all requests for comments.

 

If you're going to ask about Yuzuru Hanyu, I agree that Tsuzuki is the best person to talk to.

 

Tsuzuki knows Hanyu well. He doesn’t make unnecessary comments or say things for the sake of it. He only says what is truly in Hanyu’s best interest. You can speak with him with ease.

 

From the Tsuzuki household, three photographs were sent over. It was the afternoon of the press conference day.

 

Two of them were photos of Tsuzuki and Hanyu together (one old and one relatively recent), and the third was a group photo with many children.

 

I had seen the two-shot photos before. I believe they had been used in newspapers and on television.

 

I didn't know about the group photo. It was the first time I'd seen it. I think it's a rare photo. After all, I couldn't tell where Hanyu was.

 

The "child" that Tsuzuki pointed out to me, while somewhat resembling him once he pointed it out, just didn’t quite feel right. There was something off about it.

 

I stared intently at the photograph. I had been sent a picture of Yuzuru Hanyu. There was no way he wouldn’t be in it.

 

And of course, he was there.

 

Blending into the surrounding darkness, there is a boy with a mushroom haircut who is very hard to see. His hair is smooth and beautiful, and if you look closely, you can see a halo-like sheen around it.

 

The boy's face is barely visible. Why? Because he has angled his face toward the camera and is reaching out with his hand.

 

Even his fingertips are different.

 

While the other children are making peace signs, his gesture is reminiscent of a rock star’s hand sign. When I found Hanyu, I thought, “That figures.” Even as a boy, he was already unique. He had already learned how to express himself.
 

That was probably something bestowed upon him by heaven. He refined that talent, honed it to the absolute limit, and became Yuzuru Hanyu. He became a reigning champion in the history of figure skating.

 

Once again, I think: it is a good photograph. The impression it gives is extraordinary. You can’t even tell where Hanyu is. Even Shoichiro Tsuzuki was confused by it.

 

The photograph was not something I had asked for. But it arrived on the day of his "declaration of intent," and once again it made me cry, and even brought a small smile to my face.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu's press conference was filled with sincerity.

 

He wanted to express his gratitude. He wanted to thank every person who had been part of his journey.

 

That, to me, is quintessentially Hanyu. It speaks to the quality of his character.

 

At the same time, there was unmistakable passion in his statements such as:

 

“So that people will think, ‘This is absolutely worth watching,’”

 

“I want to keep taking on challenges, including the quadruple Axel, and reach even higher stages,”

 

He is no longer an amateur competitor. He is moving on to the next stage. That is perfectly natural. It is not a negative thing at all.

 

No one can remain standing in the same place forever.

 

The boy grew older, stood on the Olympic stage he had always dreamed of, and won the gold medal he had aimed for. Twice.

 

“As for competitions and results, I feel I’ve achieved what needed to be achieved.”

 

And so Yuzuru Hanyu steps onto the stage of Act Two.

 

“I’m not a celebrity or an idol or anything like that. I just want to be cool as an athlete. I want to keep working hard so that people will think of me as an athlete who can show them all kinds of hope and dreams.”

 

I have never once thought of him as an idol. But I do think he's a star. That is an undeniable fact, and one that can no longer be changed.

 

A great number of reporters gathered to hear his declaration of intent. The press conference was streamed live. Across the world, people waited eagerly for his words.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu is loved. He is a global superstar. And that is precisely why the curtain rises on Act Two. The dream continues.

 

“Even if I turn 30, or even get close to 40, I’m not sure if I’ll still be skating at 40, though (laughs). But I’m a little excited about the possibility that things I used to think I couldn’t do anymore because of my age might no longer apply.”

 

Tuesday, July 19, 2022, was such a day.

 

By the time I watched the 7 p.m. NHK news, my strange feeling had subsided. He would continue skating. He would remain on the ice as an athlete. It wasn’t just “a little” exciting. It was incredibly exciting.

 

I’ve always loved Yuzuru Hanyu, and I don’t think that will change. I’m looking forward to Act Two.

 

On August 10th, Hanyu was at the rink in Sendai. A public practice session was held.

 

I’ll share something I heard from an editor.

 

“I was reminded of Toronto. He was extremely focused. It wasn’t a relaxed, friendly atmosphere. It was very much the training of a serious competitive athlete.”

 

In other words, he is cool as an athlete. “Hope” and “dreams.” Those things are always by Hanyu’s side.

 

[yuzurujenn]

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

 

 

Chapter 2: From Russia with Love

 

The First Step

 

Shoichiro Tsuzuki is watching a video of Yuzuru Hanyu. It's quite old footage. In it, a boy with a mushroom haircut is visible. The boy is dancing to “From Russia with Love.” Because he is still young, his technique cannot be compared to what it is today.

 

Spoiler

But even then, the boy already radiates an unmistakable presence. He is, without question, very much Yuzuru Hanyu. I think it is the same aura he carries.

 

Tsuzuki’s expression as he watches is gentle. Occasionally, he smiles softly.

 

“This is footage from Jingu (the 2004 All Japan Novice Championships / Meiji Jingu Gaien Ice Skating Rink). Doesn’t he look the same as now? Yes, even back then, he was a child who was very aware of the audience. For a boy of that age, there aren’t many who can move like this. He is clearly conscious of the music.”

 

The Axel is the "king of jumps." Tsuzuki taught Hanyu that. However, he says there was no particular special meaning behind it.

 

“In skating, it has long been called the ‘king.’ So we too just went along with it, thinking, ‘Ah, I see.’ Teaching Hanyu followed that same flow. There was no particular reason for it. But the Axel itself is indeed a special jump. From the takeoff alone, it is different from other jumps. It has elegance and grandeur, and is difficult for skaters to master. So I taught Hanyu to treat the Axel as the most important jump. Normally, people start with the triple jump, then move on to the single Axel, and then the double. But I made him do Axels from the very beginning. Hanyu himself also had a strong determination, ‘I will definitely land this.’ The Axel technique is the foundation of all jumps. If you can land the Axel with correct mechanics, then lutz, flip, and other jumps become relatively easier.”

 

If there are reasons why the Axel is special, there are many others that could be listed as well.

 

The triple Axel made Yuzuru Hanyu a winner. It opened the door to becoming a champion. That is a fact, beyond doubt.

 

Tsuzuki continues:

 

“Compared to others in his age group, Hanyu achieved higher results. I think a major reason was his strongest weapon, the triple Axel. Hanyu landed the triple axel perfectly. Other skaters hadn't yet mastered it. They were jumping it with low consistency.”

 

In the end, the gap never closed. Hanyu continued to rise from there, reaching the incredible height of consecutive Olympic victories.

 

In other words, “correct mechanics” are absolutely essential.

 

“Things like jumping technique, width, and height cannot be changed suddenly unless they have been taught from an early age. Once something has been learned intuitively, it is very difficult to change. Therefore, who you meet as your first coach is extremely important. It's a factor that greatly influences the direction a skater will take."

 

 

In childhood, who one studies under is crucial. I also heard this in Russia.

 

Renowned coaches all said the same thing: ‘The first coach is very important.’ I sensed a strong sense of pride in this shared conviction.

 

Tatiana Tarasova said of her own coaching: “I never made mistakes from the beginning. I am proud of that.”

 

Indeed, she did not make mistakes.

 

She raised many champions and contributed greatly to the development of figure skating. She still holds major influence today.

 

I said to Tsuzuki: “For Hanyu, meeting you was a stroke of luck, wasn’t it?”

 

Tsuzuki replied briefly and casually: “That's right.”

 

Yuzuru Hanyu was nurtured by Shoichiro Tsuzuki's passion, confidence, and pride. He inherited that passion wholeheartedly. And he became a champion.

 

Before I realized it, we'd been talking about the Axel for quite a while.

 

I ask him: what kind of training produced Hanyu’s beautiful triple Axel? What kind of coaching was given, exactly?

 

“Each child has their own innate qualities, so you cannot simply say ‘do this’ or ‘do that’ in a general way. First, the coach has to understand and assess the child properly. That is the major challenge. In Hanyu’s case, in addition to his natural talent, he was a truly diligent and dedicated child. He struggled somewhat with the double axel, but even then his determination was incredible. So I, too, trained him persistently and in great depth. For example, there is a jump called the open axel, where you take off facing forward and jump with your arms and legs extended. I had him practice that quite a lot from a young age. These days, not many coaches use the open axel. In the past, during the single-jump era, it was commonly used, but with the current era of doubles and triples… Since the open axel involves no rotation, people tend not to use it anymore. However, if you do it at the foundation stage, it becomes very useful for doubles and triples. It allows for more effective training.”

 

I asked again, "What exactly makes it effective?"

 

“You develop an intuitive sense of airtime. At present, many skaters are desperately trying to rotate without being able to create airtime. I see this very often. If you practice the open axel, it becomes completely different. You already acquire that sensation. The axel takeoff, regardless of the number of rotations, generally follows the same arc. Within that arc and distance, you have to consistently execute a double as a double, a triple as a triple. Ultimately, the question is whether you can develop the sensation needed to perform the jump. That is the key.”

 

The way he soars through the air on his Axel jumps is beautiful. It is captivating. That sense of ample airtime makes it possible.

 

However, Tsuzuki didn't forget to add this:

 

“That is only on the premise that the skater has excellent natural ability.”

 

His words are filled with pride. His sincere feelings for his student come through directly. It's always like that.

 

“Hanyu was a skater with that kind of ability. Generally speaking, he never learned jumps with under-rotation. Other skaters often land jumps with under-rotations. For example, with triples, there might be a period where they only do two and a half rotations, or a period where they only do two and a quarter rotations. That never happened with Hanyu. Once he learned a jump, he rotated it cleanly and properly. Yes, from the very beginning.”

 

 

 

Two Influential Figures

 

Spoiler

Russia launched a military invasion of Ukraine in 2022. No matter the reason, war should never be tolerated.

 

I loved Russia very much. I have visited many times. However, each time, various problems arose.

 

Speaking for myself, I think it simply doesn’t suit me. My health would deteriorate easily and without mercy, and I was even taken to the hospital by ambulance. I suffered severe dehydration and needed prolonged IV drips.

 

Even so, I loved Russia.

 

As I grew accustomed to the austere atmosphere, I began to see people’s kindness more clearly. Above all, I was drawn to its highly artistic culture. That is why the prolonged war is so deeply regrettable. War is a barbaric act. I sincerely pray for its swift end.

 

Now, let me share a fond memory. It was spring of 2019. I met with Tatiana Tarasova and Alexei Mishin and we talked about Yuzuru Hanyu.

 

They were kind, enthusiastic, and helpful. They knew a lot about Hanyu. Which countries' competitions he participated in, what kind of performances he gave, what scores he received. I hardly needed to use any of the data I had prepared.

 

“When Hanyu is skating, I forget to breathe,” said Tarasova. She was speaking from her home (a sophisticated mansion) in Moscow.

 

“He has talent. It is a gift from God. So is his personality. He is intensely competitive. On top of that, he trains tremendously, so much that he almost collapses. He finds immense joy in skating. Reaching his goals, moving forward, rising higher—these are what bring him immense happiness. I am completely captivated by Hanyu. It is as if I have been put under anesthesia; I cannot move. All I can do is watch him intently. That is what Hanyu is to me.”

 

Tarasova speaks with great emotional expression. When recalling unpleasant experiences, her face tightens with irritation; when speaking of joy, she looks genuinely happy.

 

There was a certain energy in the way she spoke about Hanyu. I felt she was speaking honestly, expressing exactly what she felt. Listening to her was deeply moving.

 

“Now, a figure skating world without Hanyu is unimaginable. He has become a great ‘individual.’ And not every champion is able to become such a presence.”

 

I interjected “thank you” several times. I think Tarasova saw me as being “happy.”

 

I met Alexei Mishin in Russia’s second-largest city, Saint Petersburg. It is a city so beautiful it feels like something out of a storybook.

 

It is home to the magnificent State Hermitage Museum, world-famous theaters such as the Mariinsky Theatre, and the sports complex “Yubileyny.”

 

Yubileyny, built in 1967, is a multipurpose sports facility. According to its staff, it was designed with figure skating as its primary focus. Today, it can host almost all sports except football.

 

Mishin spoke in his room at Yubileyny (he called it a ‘changing room,’ though it was more like a study with a desk and bookshelves, just rather small).

 

Mishin has the appearance of a philosopher. His expression rarely changes, which made me slightly nervous at first.

 

But over time, his tone softened. He praised Hanyu quite a bit.

 

“He’s good. A very good kid. Super good, ultra good kid. I think he’s truly, truly good. He is almost perfect—hands up in praise. He has natural talent. His edge work is also superb. Excellent.”

 

I asked him: What about his artistry? Is it excellent? I already knew very well that it was, but I wanted Mishin to praise him.

 

He laughed, clearly amused.

 

“How should I answer that? It’s like asking, ‘Mr. Mishin, is the sun warm?’”

 

Everyone in the small room laughed. Mishin, the interpreter, the editor, the local coordinator, and I all laughed.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu is perfect. He excels in everything. Of course.

 

[yuzurujenn]

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

 

Chapter 3: The Words of Shoichiro Tsuzuki

 

No Need to Worry

 

Spoiler

“The situation with COVID-19 has become something none of us could have imagined. Lifestyles have changed all over the world.

Right now, we're feeling our way in the dark. We're trying to figure out whether we can create an environment that fulfills our original goals, what we need to do to make that happen, and what is actually possible. The athletes, their parents, and the coaches are all carrying a great deal of anxiety. I think they're struggling with it a lot.”

 

Shoichiro Tsuzuki spoke slowly. I asked him: what effect might this unstable situation have on Yuzuru Hanyu?

 

“Hanyu experienced the Great East Japan Earthquake. Even though the circumstances are different, he has gone through that kind of pain before. So compared to other skaters, I think he possesses something much more solid within him. He knows how to get his body back into shape, and I believe his coaches know as well. When the world changes, he quietly adapts to it. And he has a wealth of experience built up over the years.”

 

So, how does a lack of practice on the ice technically affect a skater's jumps?

 

Tsuzuki replied, "In Hanyu's case, there's not much to worry about," and continued.

 

“The biggest challenge is whether he can quickly recover the feel of the techniques he remembers once practice resumes. In Hanyu's case, I think it will come back relatively quickly. He has accumulated such sincere, dedicated training over the years that he may not have to struggle much at all. If anything, I think the real issue is physical conditioning. He has never been particularly strong physically. You could even say that he has built what he is today through his mental strength. Knowing him, while he hasn't been able to get on the ice, he was probably training his body. Physical fitness is truly important. It has the greatest impact on technique. Well, Hanyu's circumstances are different from those of other skaters, so I don't think there's really anything to worry about.”

 

After talking about this, we watched a video together.

 

The video showed Yuzuru Hanyu. He was wearing a short-sleeved practice shirt and black gloves. The rink was in Turin, Italy.

 

I said: “This is footage from an official practice session at the Grand Prix Final (2019–20 season).”

 

Tsuzuki said: “So he attempted the quadruple Axel. That's Hanyu's way of life. It's his natural way of being.”

 

On the first attempt, Hanyu glided in smoothly and lightly, then jumped. He couldn't land it and fell. Even so, Tsuzuki nodded.

 

“Ah, that's good. Looking good.”

 

There was no sign of strain on the second attempt either. Hanyu looked completely natural, almost as if he were keeping the excitement around him at bay. He jumped, and fell again.

 

“This is the second one.”

 

“Mm. Good feeling.”

 

“Almost there?”

 

“Yes. He needs to rotate this much, but he's finishing around here. Just another quarter rotation. If he gets that extra quarter turn, he'll be able to land facing backward.”

 

Tsuzuki's voice grew more animated. Pointing at the screen for “this much,” he then traced an angle on the table for “around here.”

 

Then came the third and final attempt. Hanyu spun tightly through the air and fell onto the ice. He seemed slightly concerned about his foot. Shaking his head slightly, he checked the tracing left on the ice.

 

Even such casual gestures felt precious to me. What he was attempting was something no one had ever achieved.

 

Tsuzuki spoke with obvious delight.

 

“Ah, this one is already rotated. That one has rotated. The takeoff and flow are ideal. All three attempts have ideal flow. The third one, in particular, has enough rotation. From here, it’s just a matter of landing it, but if the rotation is there, you can still get a certain score.”

 

Tsuzuki was happy. And because he was happy, his words came quickly, full of energy.

 

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen a quadruple Axel with this kind of flow. It’s incredible. I think it’s wonderful. Is he saying that it’s ‘technically not enough’? Certainly, he may need a bit more practice, but his body is already facing backward, so all he has to do is land on his toe pick. The fact that he’s attempting a challenge like this in a setting like this means he has already decided to include it in competition. I think he’s using this opportunity deliberately for that purpose.”

 

I asked about the takeoff and the height of the jump. I also brought up Hanyu's own comment that "it feels like I'm being blown away, so my axis sometimes wavers."

 

“There’s nothing wrong. He’s fine. In all three attempts, the axis is straight. That ‘wobble’ he’s talking about is probably something very subtle that only he himself can perceive. He can feel it while he’s jumping. But from the outside, you can’t really see it. If I had to point to anything, it would be that a slight tilt in his body is what leads to that wobble. There’s air resistance, after all. When you’re rotating, you’re naturally more easily thrown off balance. And when that happens, the axis can shift slightly or go off line.”

 

I asked another question.

 

Because of COVID-19, the World Championships in Montreal, Canada, had been cancelled. If they had not been cancelled, would Hanyu have attempted the quadruple Axel there?

 

“If it were an ordinary skater, they would almost certainly go for it without hesitation. With this much rotation and this level of ability, they’d try it. But Hanyu is a perfectionist, so he won’t attempt it unless he has certainty that he can land it. His power of visualization is truly extraordinary. If he thinks, ‘I can do it,’ then he can actually make it happen. But he won’t be satisfied unless it’s perfect. What I find remarkable is that he understands himself objectively. It’s impressive how well he grasps reality and the facts. In a sense, Hanyu is his own coach.”

 

I think Shoichiro Tsuzuki and Yuzuru Hanyu are similar.

 

There is a phrase people often use: “whether one succeeds or fails.”

 

But in the way Tsuzuki and Hanyu think, there is no “whether one fails.” That is why they willingly choose the difficult path. They never give up. In that respect, their attitudes are very similar.

 

 

 

Absolute Champion 

 

Spoiler

Tsuzuki Shoichiro says:

 

“The Axel is a forward-facing jump, so it’s scary. The conditions required for the quadruple Axel are distance, speed, height, and rotational speed. On top of that, coordination that brings all of these together is extremely important. You have to instantly unify all those conditions and produce them in a single moment. If they’re scattered, it won’t work. You absolutely cannot land it. Hanyu has exceptionally good physical coordination. Even if other skaters try to imitate it, it’s not something they can easily do. I think you could even call it an innate gift. He has had it since he was very young.”

 

I ask: How do you evaluate Hanyu's attitude of never giving up on challenges?

 

“No matter how many times he falls, he always gets back up. That is how he has lived, and it has always been that way. When he learned the triple axel, the quadruple loop, and the Lutz, he mastered them by repeating the same process. He clawed his way back up. Hanyu has a remarkable ability to visualize. That is why I believe he is now also able to visualize the quadruple axel. As he repeats failures, being human, he comes to feel many things. He perceives them accurately. He never lets them go to waste. Through practice, he thinks, absorbs it into himself, makes it his own, and then brings it to completion.”

 

Hanyu does not regard the quadruple axel as a matter of “difficulty.” He treats it as a matter of his “personal pride.”

 

On this point, Tsuzuki said, “That’s exactly right.”

 

“I think his greatest motivation is his love of skating. But behind that lies a dream and a strong sense of commitment. Even as a child, he had an incredible tenacity, a style of seriously taking on challenges and striving to improve himself. The fact that he has been able to maintain that even now as an adult is truly remarkable. Successful children are usually pampered by those around them and become conceited, but Hanyu has never shown that kind of attitude. I think that may also come from his gratitude toward his mother and the many people who support him.”

 

So, what about the widely used term "absolute champion"? How does he view it? When asked, Tsuzuki chuckled softly.

 

“He wouldn’t be satisfied otherwise. He considers himself a ‘champion.’ No, he doesn’t say that to others. He doesn’t even say it to me. But deep down, he is always thinking that way. That is why he works so hard, striving to be a ‘champion.’ He is no longer in the world where it is simply a matter of points: ‘if you do this jump, you get this score; if you do that jump, you get that score.’ Hanyu has already moved beyond that. However, having reached that point also means he is under tremendous physical and mental pressure. It would be natural for him to be carrying an exhaustion beyond imagination. It would not be surprising if he burned out at any moment. There are very few skaters who push themselves this far. In that sense, he possesses a strength that cannot be imitated by anyone else.”

 

Yuzuru Hanyu stands against the difficulty of being, and continuing to be, an “absolute champion.” He withstands the waves.

 

“No matter how many times he falls, he always gets back up.”

 

A beautiful but painful way of living.

 

Tsuzuki says:

 

“Physically, things tend to decline with age, don't they? While that's true to some extent, when passion is burning bright, the body is also strong. It's powerful.”

 

Yuzuru Hanyu lives by pouring all his passion into figure skating. He is like fire. Surely, he will remain strong from here on.

 

I don’t know much about Yuzuru Hanyu. Even so, I am captivated by his performances. I find his skating beautiful, with a sense of transparency.

 

Tsuzuki said:

 

“Yes. He dances very well. Even professional dancers would likely interpret it that way. He dances that well. Hanyu’s worldview is wonderful. He has reached a level where no one can keep up with him. His imagery is already fully formed, so the smartest thing to do is to keep pushing forward just as he is.”

 

 

 

In A League Of His Own

 

Spoiler

On December 27, 2020, the Shinano Mainichi Shimbun placed a color photograph of Yuzuru Hanyu on its front page. Over the photo, in large red letters, it read:

 

“Hanyu — In a league of his own”

 

In white text, it also described the competition. I will quote an excerpt:

 

“Yuzuru Hanyu (26) =ANA=, a two-time Winter Olympic gold medalist in men's figure skating, scored a total of 319.36 points at the All Japan Championships held at the Big Hat in Nagano City on the 26th, reclaiming the top spot in Japan for the first time in five years. (omitted) Hanyu, competing in his first event of the season amid the COVID-19 pandemic, performed a new program in the free skate using music from the historical drama 'Ten to Chi to' (Heaven and Earth). His breathtaking performance, including four quadruple jumps of three different types, secured him first place, following his first-place finish in the short program (SP) the previous day. (omitted)”

 

The Yuzuru Hanyu I saw at the All-Japan Championships felt like someone living in another dimension. I felt he was a truly one-of-a-kind athlete.

 

“Long time no see. How have you been?”

 

Shoichiro Tsuzuki appeared with a friendly smile. His complexion looked very good. By the time the All-Japan Championships had ended, he had seemed a little fatigued, so I was happy to see his usual expression.

 

“What is this about today?”

 

“I’d like to hear your thoughts about Nagano.”

 

Tsuzuki said he had felt “something beyond emotion” at the All-Japan Championships. I first asked him to elaborate on that.

 

“How should I put it… I went to Nagano with the feeling of wanting to understand what condition Hanyu was in. Until then, I didn't know that he was practicing alone. I remember being surprised when I heard there that 'this time, he adjusted his training himself and came to Nagano alone.' Given the COVID situation, it couldn’t really be helped, but still, it was an almost unimaginable situation. The All-Japan Championships are a direct stepping stone to the World Championships and the Olympics. However, from another perspective, I felt that Hanyu's own growth was highlighted there once again. He accomplished something like that all by himself. I think this shows that he has grown to a very high level, not only in terms of his technical skills as a skater, but also as a person. He prepared everything himself, taking on all the risk, and came in alone. As coaches, we were astonished, and at the same time, deeply humbled. Especially for me, who has known Hanyu since he was very young, I was truly moved.”

 

In that sense, Tsuzuki said he felt “something beyond just emotion.” But his words did not stop at “emotion.” He continued:

 

“He was skating with good control, but to me it felt a little lacking. I think that is a consequence of training alone. Without a coach’s eye, even if the skater thinks he is giving his all, there are things he may not notice. For example, the speed before the jumps was slightly slower than usual. The flow after landing was a bit more hesitant. The program itself was put together in that way, so in the end, all’s well that ends well. But Hanyu is a skater who is capable of much more. In the short program, the spin was not counted, but that was not a matter of level, it simply did not conform to the rules. He probably thought he had executed it correctly. Even I was watching so intently that I didn’t notice at first. When I saw the score, I thought, ‘Huh?’ I think Hanyu himself must have felt the same. He was probably surprised too. Normally, that would be completely unthinkable. For him, Level 4 is a given, especially for spins. If he had had a coach with him during practice, I don’t think that would have happened.”

 

At the All-Japan Championships, Hanyu skated his short program to “Let Me Entertain You” and his free skate to “Heaven and Earth.”

 

I was completely captivated by his performance. It was breathtaking.

 

As a side note, it is said that Kaionji Chogoro’s “Ten to Chi to” (Bungei Shunju paperback edition) was reprinted thanks to Hanyu, an anecdote that shows how many people were fascinated by him. Perhaps only Shoichiro Tsuzuki could say, or be allowed to say, that it felt “a little lacking.”

 

Yuzuru Hanyu is Tsuzuki’s deep pride and great joy. The coach trusts his pupil completely. In other words, Hanyu is a skater who can “do so much more.”

 

Tsuzuki said proudly, without hesitation:

 

“At Hanyu’s level, even if speed is slightly lacking, he can still land jumps through technique. The opening loop lacked acceleration, and there was a slight backward weight shift, but the movement itself was beautiful. The timing of the jump was perfect, something that is very difficult for other skaters to replicate. With that level of speed, most skaters would not be able to execute the jump. His spins, however, have gradually been getting weaker. When he was young, they were extremely good. In high school, his rotation speed was like a blade slicing through the air. As skaters move into the senior ranks, they tend to practice spins less, but spins improve the more you train them. Even now, he is putting them together well, but I want to see a higher level. After all, he is Yuzuru Hanyu.”

 

It is likely that this will be shown at the World Championships in Stockholm.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu has said he “likes competing.” In Stockholm, he will face a strong rival, Nathan Chen (USA). There is no better stage for competition.

 

Finally, I would like to include his words looking ahead to that major event:

 

“In Japan right now, there is no skater who can pull off the whole picture like Hanyu. I think the same is true worldwide. No one surpasses him.  However, in terms of jump content, there is Nathan Chen. If Nathan lands all of his quadruple jumps successfully, then the question becomes which of them comes out ahead. It will depend on how the judges evaluate it, but in terms of base value alone, it will certainly be a very difficult situation. But I think Hanyu himself understands this best. He is a very intelligent man. In competition, you must not lose your sense of urgency. I believe Hanyu feels that urgency strongly. He understands very well who his opponents are. In terms of responding to his opponents in competition, how much he will change his current layout, and what he will add to his program, I think it will be a competition fought at an extremely high level, both mentally and physically.”

 

If Yuzuru Hanyu continues to improve “even more and more,” then no one will be able to beat him. At least, I intend to watch him win.

 

Hanyu’s intensity is unbelievably beautiful. I saw it in Nagano. It's something I'll never forget.

 

 

 

Story About Stockholm 

 

Spoiler

The venue for the 2021 World Figure Skating Championships is Stockholm, the capital of Sweden. 

 

Until a few years ago, it was enough just to look forward to such events with excitement. But now it is different. Many people are worried.

 

“Is it really okay to hold it?”

 

The 2019–20 World Championships were supposed to be held in Montreal, Canada, but were canceled at the last moment due to the spread of the novel coronavirus.

 

So, compared with last season, can we say the situation this season has improved? Even though vaccination has begun, the global situation is still far from stable. Rather, it feels like a “pandemic peak.”

 

It is understandable that athletes, who have overcome many trials, look forward to competing. It is only natural that their morale is rising.

 

If the World Championships are held as planned, I will wholeheartedly support the athletes. If they are able to perform to their full potential, results will follow. I have high expectations.

 

However, more than anything, this time I simply hope everyone stays healthy, no matter what. Athletes must not become infected, and must not infect others.

 

The Stockholm competition is apparently going to be held in a "bubble" format, isolated from the outside world, but is this truly a safe approach? Double and triple checks are necessary.

 

As is well known, Sweden did not implement a city lockdown. The aim was to achieve herd immunity, but the results were not favorable. Stockholm also saw a large number of infections.

 

I strongly hope the Japan Skating Federation establishes and thoroughly verifies a strict system for travel and stay. The experience will certainly be useful for the 2022 Beijing Olympics in China. This is a critical moment.

 

Now, enough of the worries. I want to send encouragement to the athletes. Since this is an essay, I will “speak loudly” and wholeheartedly cheer them on.

 

As I write this, it is barely February 2021.

 

The state of emergency is still ongoing. In Tokyo and the three surrounding prefectures, lifting it sometime in March is being considered.

 

I have not yet been able to meet coach Shoichiro Tsuzuki. I'm hoping to visit him once the state of emergency is lifted.

 

Before moving on, I would like to briefly share some events from the past. Having spoken many times, Tsuzuki’s words remain vivid in my notes.

Aside from comments about himself, most of his remarks concern Yuzuru Hanyu.

 

For example, regarding programs, there is this exchange:

 

"Hanyu has said that 'SEIMEI' and 'Ballade No. 1' are his 'most representative programs,' and 'works that allow him to be himself.' From a coach's perspective, what are your thoughts?"

 

Tsuzuki replied:

 

“‘SEIMEI’ is a Japanese piece, isn’t it? For Hanyu, being Japanese, it may have been the most fitting in terms of expressing Japanese beauty and spirit. There are certainly works that fit one’s heart and body perfectly. In Hanyu’s case, he is such an exceptional skater. The way he interprets music changes greatly depending on how he feels. He interprets it in his own way and performs to various pieces. Through that process, he likely comes to a sense of ‘this is what suits me.’”

 

At the time of this conversation, I showed Tsuzuki the short program from the Four Continents Championships (2020/Seoul, South Korea), where Hanyu set a world record score. Of course, it was ‘Ballade No. 1.’

 

Hanyu describes his state before the performance as “the music seemed to flow smoothly into me, as if it were being absorbed.”

 

“That’s what a piece that suits you, a good piece, is like. It naturally enters the body and allows you to express it. When the music flows in smoothly, it means you’re in good form. Riding that wave is extremely important. When you can skate while riding that wave, the probability of landing jumps increases. That was the case with Hanyu at this time as well. He was skating with an extremely high level of technique. The timing of his entry into the triple Axel is absolutely perfect. That timing is something that other skaters can't easily imitate.”

 

I ask: “With this kind of skating, is it possible to lose to other skaters in the five program components?”

 

Tsuzuki replies:

 

“If there are no disadvantages like falls, I don’t think he could ever lose.”

 

“Do falls or under-rotation affect the SS (Skating Skills) score?”

 

“I think they do, to a certain extent.”

 

After discussing ‘Ballade No. 1’—the spins, the upper body, and the footwork—Tsuzuki said with clear delight:

 

“This performance is absolutely perfect.”

 

A gentle smile came over his face. It is always like that when Tsuzuki talks about Hanyu.

 

 

 

One-Eighth

 

Spoiler

I was talking with Shoichiro Tsuzuki.

 

In March 2021, the World Championships were held in Stockholm, Sweden. This conversation is about the results.

 

“It was disappointing, but I think Hanyu winning the bronze medal was an incredible achievement. To be able to control that level of performance on your own and bring it into competition is not something everyone can do. I had never seen it in Japan before, and even looking at the world, I’ve rarely heard of a skater who arrives at a World Championships venue alone. It was about one year. For about a year, Hanyu had been doing it alone. Within that situation, maintaining himself and building a condition in which he could still challenge himself must have been an extremely difficult task.”

 

Yuzuru Hanyu is a special existence. I believe there is no other skater comparable to him. My impression did not change, either before or after Stockholm.

 

Tsuzuki’s blunt way of speaking was also unchanged that day. When I asked about scoring, he said:

 

“In the free skate there were mistakes, so that is understandable, but the short program score could have been higher. Hanyu’s short program was captivating. His jumps have the power to fascinate people. I think that aspect should have been reflected in the scoring a bit more.”

 

Every time I hear things like this from someone, I feel frustrated.

 

Not only with Yuzuru Hanyu, not only with this competition, and not only in singles, I am not satisfied with how the scores are being given.

 

I hear that things have improved “now.” But since I don’t know what it was like "in the past," it still feels unfair.

 

Tsuzuki says: “It’s true that in the past, they were treated unfairly. Scores didn’t come out the way they should have. Things are changing now, but…”

 

Now, let's talk about the quadruple Axel. It is also a story of ‘one-eighth.’

 

“I think Hanyu wanted to perform the quadruple Axel at the World Championships. That’s why he trained desperately until the very last moment. Even so, I think the reason he couldn’t make it in time was largely due to the triple Axel. Until the All-Japan Championships, he had been jumping the triple Axel. In Stockholm, as he himself said, his ‘axis was off.’ A half rotation is 180 degrees, and the effort required to add that rotation gradually threw his axis slightly out of alignment. Because he kept training, his balance ended up breaking down. The fact that he understands that himself is proof that Hanyu is a true skater. As I mentioned before, his quadruple Axel is already at a stage where it could land at any time. And I think he felt that if he landed it, he would win. Even if he didn’t succeed, he probably calculated that he could still place around third. In his case, he can make up for it with other elements. I feel that what he couldn’t do in this competition was make the decision to ‘take on the challenge.’ In the end, he probably wasn’t in a condition he could fully accept. He doesn’t say it, but I think he still had regret in his heart.”

 

Yuzuru Hanyu made the decision not to attempt the jump just three days before leaving Japan.

 

Until the very last moment, he kept challenging. He was trying to achieve his goal. That attitude feels very typical of Hanyu.

 

I asked Tsuzuki:

 

On the day before leaving for Stockholm, Miyagi was hit by an earthquake. It was considered an aftershock of the Great East Japan Earthquake. Could this have had an impact?

 

“After the Great East Japan Earthquake, Hanyu was deeply hurt. He even worried about whether he would be able to return to skating. So I think there was a psychological impact. However, he understands people’s pain. There are many people around him who have gone through difficult experiences, so he understands it well. I think he tried to deliver a good performance for those people, and to encourage them. Performing in a way that brings joy is Hanyu's way of showing gratitude. I believe his humanity shaped through his experiences is his greatest charm.”

 

Indeed, he is that kind of skater. He performs in a way that feels as if it cleanses the heart.

 

At the post-competition press conference, Hanyu said, “I'll never be satisfied until I land a quadruple Axel.” He clearly stated that jumping it is his motivation.

 

And to achieve that, that final “one-eighth” is absolutely necessary.

 

Hanyu says: “If I rotate just one-eighth more, I can land it.”

 

In the middle of the conversation, Tsuzuki suddenly clapped his hands. A loud clap echoed.

 

“This is that ‘one-eighth.’ Of course, it doesn’t even last a second. It is an unbelievably delicate margin.”

 

Again, Tsuzuki clapped his hands. Clap. Clap. Clap.

 

“This kind of thing is truly a hair’s breadth away from perfection. It is extremely difficult to pull off. I think you could even call it a divine feat. Placing your weight on a blade that's less than a millimeter thick, landing on the slippery ice, maintaining your balance, and completing the landing; it's truly a god-like feat. In Stockholm, he may also have been conscious of the need not to get injured. If your balance is off, it becomes difficult to concentrate, which can lead to injury. I think he may have held back because of that concern. Hanyu always tries new techniques in exhibition performances before incorporating them into competition. That is how he builds the image. He has always done it that way up to now, so the fact that he didn’t do it at the All-Japan exhibition means that, in his own mind, it was still ‘not ready.’ After all, Hanyu is a perfectionist. He is the kind of athlete who cannot be satisfied otherwise. However, Hanyu is a man of his word. He has lived his life as if that were his purpose. So I believe he will achieve this divine feat someday.”

 

Tsuzuki said.

 

[yuzurujenn]

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

 

 

Merry Christmas 

 

Spoiler

I couldn't find a taxi that day, so I arrived at our meeting place five minutes before the agreed time.

 

Shoichiro Tsuzuki had already arrived. He had prepared some warm tea. His expression and tone were the same as usual. But something was different. He was worried.

 

“Hanyu got injured, you see.”

 

He described himself as being “in a state of extreme shock.”

 

I spoke with Tsuzuki in mid-November 2021. The NHK Trophy, the Grand Prix Series event Yuzuru Hanyu was scheduled to compete in, was already over.

 

Since he also couldn’t participate in the Rostelecom Cup that followed, his participation in the Beijing Olympics (February 2022) now depended on the All-Japan Championships at the end of the year.

 

I wrote “depended on” in a formal sense, but Hanyu is not fixated on competing in the Olympics.

 

He's pouring all his passion into the quadruple Axel. He said, “I want to be the first skater to land it.” He's said it many times.

 

Of course, Tsuzuki knows that. He knows it all too well, and yet he is worried about Hanyu.

 

If he is going to perform the quadruple Axel, he needs a fitting “stage.” The All-Japan Championships, or the Olympics, would be ideal. Something like that.

 

“There's just over a month left until the All Japan Championships (starting December 22nd at Saitama Super Arena). The injured part is his landing foot, so it is under stress upon landing. The quadruple Axel has a completely different rotational force in the air, so the impact on landing will be quite severe. That said, attempting it just once in competition is difficult. He can’t avoid practicing the quadruple Axel. But whether that is even possible… I think there are struggles that we, as outsiders, cannot fully understand.”

 

Tsuzuki lowered his mask, drank the slightly lukewarm tea, and gave a small smile. Then he spoke of hope.

 

“Well, Hanyu has been through many experiences, hasn’t he. He has suffered similar injuries before and overcome them. I think this time as well, he will minimize the impact and deliver the best performance he is capable of. My wish is simply that his injury heals, and that we can see him land the quadruple Axel. That is how I feel right now. It all depends on his body. If he is physically able to handle it, I hope he will show it to us. Also, if he has even the slightest desire to compete in the Olympics, I think it would be better for him to attempt it at the All-Japan Championships. I believe the quadruple Axel will succeed. I believe he will succeed. Hanyu is someone who puts his words into action, and I feel that moment may be approaching. The phrase “quadruple Axel” carries very significant meaning for those of us involved as well. If Hanyu can achieve it, it will truly be an accomplishment that goes down in history.”

 

Sometimes I wonder. How can I express the intensity of Tsuzuki's feelings for Yuzuru Hanyu?

 

Tsuzuki’s daughter, Nakako (a figure skating coach and ISU technical specialist in ice dance), says: “My father always gets excited when he talks about Yuzuru-kun.”

 

The excitement is completely unrestrained. It gives a very honest impression. This is what I think you would call something ‘genuine.’ Perhaps it should be called genuine love.

 

“As for Beijing, it’s not so much that he ‘should’ go, but more that I ‘want him to go.’ That’s how I feel.”

 

Tsuzuki continued speaking.

 

“I feel that many people also share that kind of hope for Hanyu.”

 

I also have hopes for Hanyu. First, that his injury heals. Next, that he succeeds in the quadruple Axel. And finally, that he competes in the Beijing Olympics.

 

I think I will no longer say ‘do your best.’ He has already done his best. He is still doing his best. From here on, I just want him to walk forward more happily.

 

But I also think that in order to live more happily, he probably needs the quadruple Axel. Even if it's difficult, it's surely necessary for Yuzuru Hanyu's life.

 

At the end of the interview, I listened together with Tsuzuki to “Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso.” It is the piece used in Hanyu’s program this season.

 

The beautiful sound of the piano flows.

 

I immediately thought of “Ballade No. 1.” My heart swayed quietly. Just like that time, Yuzuru Hanyu will melt into the music, become one with it, and dance.

 

“I think this piece demands a very deep level of expression. Its mood is similar to ‘Ballade No. 1.’ In a sense, he may be hoping for results. I have the feeling that, somewhere in his heart, he is taking on a gamble. Athletes choose music that reflects how they want to be. They seek the kind of musical mood they most want to skate to. He also understands what people expect of him. Perhaps there is a wish to have many people see him perform to this piece.”

 

The short program will take place on the 24th. It is Christmas Eve. What kind of gift will be delivered?

 

Just seeing Hanyu on the ice makes my heart tremble. Last year I cried a little. This year I want to watch without crying.

 

Merry Christmas!

 

 

 

Realm of the Gods

 

Spoiler

Shoichiro Tsuzuki drew a small circle on a sheet of white paper with a red ballpoint pen.

 

"This is 180 degrees, and this is 360 degrees. And this is roughly the point of contact (with the ice). Even with a triple axel, he lands at about this angle. He's facing backwards."

 

We're talking about the Beijing Olympics. More precisely, about Yuzuru Hanyu’s competition.

 

Tsuzuki was more talkative than usual, frequently using hand gestures and body language. He even stood up from the sofa at times.

 

His beloved student challenged for a third consecutive Olympic title and attempted an unprecedented quadruple Axel. There is hardly any topic he could speak about with more passion than this.

 

“So this time, Hanyu landed on one foot, much like other skaters do when they land a triple Axel. He had gotten himself into the position needed to land a quadruple Axel backward. He had created into that position, but he wasn't able to stop the rotation.”

 

As he spoke, Tsuzuki spread both his arms horizontally. Straight and wide.

 

“This is called a ‘check.’ It’s the final movement that stops the rotation. If he had been able to make that check, I think there was a chance he could have stayed on his feet. You open up what has been tightened. He wasn't able to do that, so he couldn't pull his leg back behind him. As a result, he fell. If only he had gotten the check in... If he had been able to finish it there, things would have been different. But at this stage, that was probably his limit. Hanyu himself said it was ‘the best Axel I've ever done,’ and I think the results of his training were clearly there. Even though it wasn’t completed, to the naked eye it reached a point where you think, ‘he might have rotated it.’ I think Hanyu did an outstanding job. In an environment where he had no coach and was training late at night, he built this up entirely on his own. What he accomplished was truly remarkable. He showed people a world they had never imagined and opened the door to history. The ISU (International Skating Union) recognized his quadruple Axel attempt. Hanyu has created a new path for figure skating.”

 

I watched that challenge on television. Yuzuru Hanyu seemed to have moved beyond the concept of a figure skater. He was simply beautiful, just existing there.

 

He describes the Olympics as a place where everything is at stake. Only a skater as strong as he is could say that. I think he's extraordinarily strong. Completely different. It goes without saying, but he shines.

 

He did not achieve a third consecutive Olympic title in Beijing. But he did not lose. He continues to be celebrated and loved around the world.

 

Let me give you an example. On Weibo, the Chinese equivalent of Twitter, the search term “Yuzuru Hanyu’s 4A recognized by the International Skating Union” was searched more than one billion times.

 

The Olympics ended. But Hanyu remains within a vortex of intense emotion. He is still there, as a champion.

 

Shoichiro Tsuzuki described Hanyu’s performance of “Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso” as a “traffic accident,” referring to the short program in which Hanyu’s skate caught a rut, turning his planned quadruple Salchow into a single rotation. Hanyu finished 8th.

 

“It was basically like a traffic accident. I don’t think even Hanyu could have imagined it. When so many skaters are jumping quads, the ice gets badly damaged. And then, by some chance, you end up entering a curve that isn’t your own. It became a major ‘traffic accident.’ In principle, each skater’s curve is different, so situations like that rarely overlap. Hanyu, in particular, is a skater who values imagery, so he has a very clear understanding of his own curve. Even for a skater like him, something like that can still happen.”

 

Even afterward, Tsuzuki repeated the phrase “traffic accident” several times. He also said, “Without that, he would have been first in the short program.”

 

However, there was no sense of regret in his words. Of course, Tsuzuki had hoped for Hanyu’s third consecutive title. But more than that, he was glad to witness the attempt at the quadruple Axel.

 

“This is purely my own speculation, but I think Hanyu had a strong desire to win a third consecutive title. He was determined to achieve it. After placing 8th in the short program, in order to beat Nathan Chen, the quadruple Axel became absolutely necessary. So Hanyu went on the offensive. If all he wanted was a medal, he could have played it safe and aimed for consistent scores. That would have been a perfectly reasonable approach. But he didn’t choose that. He chose to fight. He bet on himself. I think he poured everything he had built up into that performance. That is what makes Yuzuru Hanyu such an extraordinary person.”

 

In the free skate, Hanyu skated “Heaven and Earth.” He fell on the quadruple Axel and the quadruple Salchow, but the program did not fall apart. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say he did not allow it to fall apart.

 

Figure skating is a sport that combines technique and artistry. In terms of its artistic side, he was flawless. I think the word “to dance” suited him perfectly.

 

He placed 3rd in the free skate and finished 4th overall.

 

“Of course he didn’t win, but I think that deep down, Hanyu must have felt a sense of satisfaction that he accomplished what he set out to do. At the same time, I believe many people were deeply moved by the way he chose to take on the challenge.”

 

In the post-competition interview, Hanyu said: “It may have been an unrewarded effort, but I gave it everything I had.”

 

Tsuzuki says:

 

“I disagree with the idea of 'unrewarded effort.' What he tried to do was push himself to the absolute limit. There is something truly noble about his determination to take on a challenge even when he was not in ideal condition. I truly want to praise Hanyu. I think he did an outstanding job, and I am deeply grateful to him. I don’t think I’m the only one who feels this way. I want to convey that to Hanyu. That so many people were moved and deeply impressed by his performance at the Olympics.”

 

True “effort” resonates in the heart. That is why Yuzuru Hanyu looked so beautiful that day. His sincerity brings happiness to others. Some even call him a “god.”

 

After this, we talked about the quadruple Axel again. It is difficult to understand without visual reference.

 

“Look at the angle of his blade from this perspective. He is in the air, and his weight is shifted backward. If he had shifted his weight forward at that moment, he could have landed backward. Conversely, if his hands were in this position, that would be a ‘check.’ In that case, he would be able to bring his free leg through in a checked position. Look at this position, it’s perfectly straight. It’s truly incredible how he can maintain balance while rotating so straight. He tightens his body and rotates around a very small point. In this landing position, his hands are behind him but his face is forward. So his upper body is already rotating, and only his legs are like this. He took off from here and is facing this way, see? His head is already in the position of the 4.5 rotations. His gaze is already there. It’s just that his leg couldn’t reach that final angle. That’s all.”

 

Tsuzuki said that Yuzuru Hanyu's quadruple Axel was very close to being completed.

 

 

 

A 9-Year-Old Boy

 

Spoiler

It seems that figure skating has entered a turning point.

 

For example, Ilia Malinin (USA) recently landed a quadruple Axel in practice. The landing was shaky, but the jump combined both height and speed.

 

Footage from Russia also showed a skater practicing a quintuple Salchow, albeit while using a harness.

 

When change comes, it comes quickly. Not in a literal instant, perhaps, but it feels fleeting to me. And that is why figure skating is beautiful.

 

In February 2022, the Beijing 2022 Winter Olympics took place.

 

There, Yuzuru Hanyu attempted something unprecedented. In the free skating program, he went for a quadruple Axel.

 

"How magnificent," I thought. It's been a while since February, but my feelings have not changed. Despite an injury, he continued to challenge himself and push the limits. It was a performance that was unmistakably Hanyu.

 

Moreover, the performance seemed somehow detached from reality. It evoked the presence of ancient Japanese gods. I think it exuded a uniquely distinctive atmosphere.

 

In any case, he opened the era of the quadruple Axel. He did something that only a select handful of skaters could accomplish. Hanyu is that kind of athlete. I don’t think anyone would disagree with that.

 

Now then, today I want to tell the story of a nine-year-old boy.

 

The boy stood proudly on the ice. If he was going to do this, he wanted to aim for the top. He believed he would one day win an Olympic gold medal.

 

Even at that time, he was already jumping an Axel that would lead to what he performs today. It was only a double Axel (2½ rotations), but his talent was already there in abundance. That's the kind of story it is.

 

After the competition in Beijing, Hanyu said:

 

“There's a nine-year-old version of myself inside me, and he kept telling me, ‘Jump.’”

 

“Actually, it’s the same form as when I was nine.”

 

“In the end, what I arrived at was the Axel from back then.”

 

His nine-year-old self refers to the boy who won the Novice B division at the 2004 All-Japan Novice Championships. The venue was the rink at Meiji Jingu Gaien Ice Skating Rink. He skated to "From Russia with Love," choreographed by his mentor, Shoichiro Tsuzuki.

 

Tsuzuki has been watching the video with his eyes narrowed for a while now. It was a recording of nine-year-old Hanyu skating at the All-Japan Novice Championships.

 

"Hanyu said, 'It's the same take-off as when I was nine years old.' And that's exactly right. The way he jumps the double axel, the trajectory, everything is the same. Look at this entry, it's no different from now, isn't it? Hanyu has just grown taller. The fact that he was already performing an Axel like this nearly twenty years ago is truly remarkable. Among young children in Japan, Hanyu was the only one who could do it.”

 

The footage shows a spin from "From Russia with Love." Its position seems to overlap with that of "Ten to Chi to" (Heaven and Earth).

 

In a sense, he was already complete at nine years old. All that was left was to refine what was already there.

 

“The sensibilities he has haven’t changed at all since then. For example, his entry from the eagle position. We had him work on that for a very long time from when he was young. The same goes for his posture after landing jumps. We were very strict with him. We spent a great deal of time practicing clean landings and smooth flow-outs. That is what has created the beauty he has today.”

 

Tsuzuki spoke rapidly, his words flowing seamlessly from one to the next. There was no need to wait for him to pause. It seemed he could talk about Yuzuru Hanyu all day long.

 

“Look at his sit spin. The position is low, isn’t it? He practiced repeatedly, lowering his hips until his buttocks were almost touching the ice. That’s why he can sink into that position so deeply. The Biellmann spin. There were no other boys in Japan who could do it. Hanyu watched Plushenko’s videos, admired it, and challenged himself to practice it. In addition, Hanyu had talent. From what he considers his ‘starting point,’ his skating was already incredibly beautiful. Where other children’s lines would be rounded, his remained perfectly straight. Even a single spiral was strikingly picturesque.”

 

The performance continues, entering its second half.

 

What is remarkable about the nine-year-old boy is that his speed never decreases. If anything, he accelerates even more. It is as if the accumulation of his effort is visible to the eye.

 

“I don’t think there was a skater in Japan with this kind of sensibility. He was just a child, nine years old. As I mentioned earlier, I was very strict about his posture after landing jumps and about his spin positions. What’s remarkable about Hanyu is his ability to respond so well to instruction. He understood what I told him to do, made it his own, and pursued it to a very deep level. It was normal for him to keep dancing and skating for an hour straight once the music started. That, too, is part of his beauty and his strength.”

 

I ask whether such “origins” are also influenced by personality.

 

“Yes, that is so. In Hanyu’s case, even from a young age, he had a tendency to pursue things to the very end. That was his personality. He is pure, honest, and has a truly sincere heart. I don’t think that has changed at all since those early days. When someone becomes such a great athlete, people usually change in some way, don’t they? Their ego can emerge. But he is not like that. Not at all. Even now, he still cherishes the time he spent with me. He spoke about it in front of many people. That made me so happy I cried. I was grateful beyond words, and I wept.”

 

At the end of "From Russia with Love," the young Hanyu raises both hands toward the sky. That pose overlaps with the ending pose of "Ten to Chi to."

 

Tsuzuki said: “That part where he raises his hands at the end. I'm so glad he still remembers that time..."

 

 

 

The Path of an Artist 

 

Spoiler

Shoichiro Tsuzuki had suspected that Yuzuru Hanyu might be retiring from competitive skating.

 

“By the time the Beijing Olympics (February 2022) began, I already felt that way. I had a sense that, ‘this might be the end.’ Hanyu had spent two years during the COVID-19 pandemic without a coach. Under extremely difficult conditions, he continued working with the goal of landing a quadruple axel. Naturally, he must have had the mindset that ‘Beijing would be my last competition,’ and I think he also felt that the Olympics were the most fitting stage on which to attempt the quadruple axel.”

 

Immediately after the Beijing Olympics, Hanyu did not clearly state his future plans.

 

But there was an indescribable atmosphere. Many people must have thought the same thing: that he was surely moving on to the next stage.

 

Fans waited quietly for his words. Not only in Japan, but all over the world, people were watching his next move with great interest.

 

And then the day of his statement came, and he said:

 

“I want to keep working even harder from here on.”

 

With a calm expression and occasional smiles, he announced that he would no longer compete in competitions.

 

I asked Tsuzuki:

 

He said that “this is the real beginning,” and that he may be able to pursue his ideals better outside of competition. What did he mean by that?

 

“Therefore, I don’t think it’s ‘retirement,’ but rather a desire to express, as a professional, the skills he cultivated during his competitive career and the character he refined along the way. His way of thinking has not wavered at all. From a very young age, he has had an extraordinary drive for excellence. That is what has shaped Yuzuru Hanyu into who he is today. I believe this decision was his way of saying, ‘I want to elevate figure skating from various angles.’”

 

To elevate something, one must be strong. Both physically and mentally.

 

In that sense, there is probably no skater more suited than Yuzuru Hanyu.

 

He has chronic injuries. He is rarely in peak condition. Even so, I have no doubt about Hanyu. He is flawless.

 

Tsuzuki continues:

 

“Apparently, there are now calls to build a ‘Yuzuru Hanyu Rink’ in Sendai. If that is true, Hanyu himself must have heard about it. If it comes to fruition, I think it could create a world unlike anything we’ve seen before. I have always told him, ‘Make figure skating a culture.’ That comes from the shock I experienced when I went to Russia a long time ago. Compared to Russia, Japanese figure skating was quite underdeveloped. It was nothing more than a leisure activity. In Japan, there are no places where it can be developed into a culture. Under the current circumstances, making it a culture is extremely difficult. But if a ‘Yuzuru Hanyu Rink’ could be established, it could take a new step forward. Hanyu’s worldview elevates the level of figure skating itself. I believe that through his achievements, Japan can further develop its strengths and build a culture that can be shared with the world. Yuzuru Hanyu is someone who draws attention from all over the world. He is admired and loved. I believe that he alone is the one who can elevate Japanese figure skating into a culture.”

 

Tsuzuki said this to young Hanyu. He continued telling him even after he grew up:

 

“Win an Olympic gold medal.”

 

“Become an artist.”

 

“Make figure skating a culture.”

 

Those strict words may have been like a protective charm for Hanyu.

 

What he ultimately pursued led to Olympic victory. He won two gold medals. And his skating is profoundly beautiful, full of artistry.

 

The only thing Hanyu has yet to achieve is that enormous goal: “making it a culture.” And he will achieve it. Someday, probably.

 

At his statement, Hanyu also spoke about the quadruple axel, saying: “I want to show it to everyone with strong determination.” Even in his new role, his resolve toward the quad axel has not wavered.

 

“That is what is truly remarkable about Yuzuru Hanyu,” Tsuzuki says.

 

“Even after turning professional, for Hanyu to make such statements in front of the media, given his character, it is as if he is placing ‘life’ and ‘death’ before everyone’s eyes. He is, above all, a man of his word. The quadruple axel holds great significance in Hanyu’s life. I believe that completing it would be proof of a new Yuzuru Hanyu. He once said, ‘To skate is proof that I am alive.’ That is exactly true. Hanyu’s mindset as a skater exists on such a high level. He's trying to do something on a level that's almost incomprehensible, and he continues to challenge it even now. He has a strong sense of guilt about disappointing people’s expectations. That is why I believe that press conference was a moment he approached with absolute resolve.”

 

Tsuzuki believes that only Yuzuru Hanyu can turn figure skating into a culture. He says this with a gentle smile:

 

“Because he has already become an artist.”

 

 

 

The Future of Growth

 

Spoiler

It had been a long time since I last met Shoichiro Tsuzuki.

 

He was wearing a stylish white sweater. The light fabric of the white garment evoked the changing of the seasons. He began talking about Yuzuru Hanyu. He wore a bright, cheerful expression.

 

“Do you mean the difference between him now and when he was an amateur? I think the core hasn’t changed, but he has grown further. Both as a human being and technically, he continues to develop more and more, and has started new challenges. It feels like he is taking on challenges of a very high dimension. He is presenting to the world things that no one has done before, things that have never been achieved. Not only as a skater, but also as a ‘human being named Yuzuru Hanyu,’ he is expressing himself in many different forms. In each of those expressions, I strongly feel his daily effort. So I don’t know what form it will take, but I believe he will continue to grow even more in the future.”

 

Talking with Tsuzuki sometimes makes me feel emotional. It has happened many times before. I am drawn into Tsuzuki’s “intensity.”

 

His feelings toward Yuzuru Hanyu are extremely strong. With his face crumpling and his voice breaking, Tsuzuki says:

 

“When I see Hanyu now… when I see how wonderfully he has grown… I really don’t know what to say. Tears just well up. I can’t quite put it into words. I know the process he went through in overcoming various trials. He overcame them and, in doing so, brought ‘Yuzuru Hanyu’ into being. I am deeply impressed by what an extraordinary skater he is.”

 

Of course, I do not know “him” the way Tsuzuki does. But I do know that his path until today has not been easy.

 

For example, Hanyu continues to carry the devastation of that March within him. He lives with that great earthquake in his heart. He is desperately trying to be a light for someone.

 

That's why I sometimes find myself crying, too.

 

Writing about Yuzuru Hanyu stirs my emotions. Perhaps, in some small way, they resemble Tsuzuki’s feelings. Though I am far from him, there is a faint similarity somewhere.

 

Hanyu's shows were always popular, but that popularity has only intensified since he turned professional.

 

Take “Yuzuru Hanyu ICE STORY 2023 ‘GIFT’ at Tokyo Dome” as an example. It was almost unbelievable. After all, it was a solo performance at Tokyo Dome. An unprecedented feat for a figure skater.

 

Tickets sold out through a lottery system. The show drew 35,000 spectators (with many more who could not get tickets).

 

Live viewing screenings were held in over 80 cinemas across Japan. It was also held in Hong Kong, Taiwan, and South Korea, and streamed live on Disney+.

 

Tsuzuki says:

 

“I feel like he's challenging the 'professional' world as an 'amateur.' He continues to showcase the same exceptionally high level of skill he had as a competitive skater. Technically, he is becoming even more refined. At the same time, the constraints of time and various rules have disappeared, allowing him to express the skating he truly wants to show. In other words, he is trying to transform what has traditionally been called the ‘professional’ world. Hanyu is changing the very concept of what it means to be a professional. This will also lead to the growth of Japanese figure skating. Furthermore, I believe he is showing the world the emergence of a skater unlike any other, revealing a side of him that has not been seen before.”

 

Tsuzuki continues:

 

“His approach to music, his emotional expression of it. He never misses a beat. Not only does he not miss a note, but he expresses it. He is very effectively conveying music in a way that wasn’t possible in amateur competitions due to the constraints of the rules. While expressing it, he convinces people and moves them emotionally. He is showcasing the beauty of figure skating in a very multifaceted way.”

 

As Tsuzuki spoke, a slightly frustrated expression crossed his face. He said he “understands it intuitively,” but cannot quite put it into words.

 

“I can feel what Hanyu is trying to do. I truly feel it very deeply.”

 

I ask him whether his precision with music is the result of training or talent.

 

“It’s not just about practice, but I think it’s also about mindset. Each note, what kind of sound is it? And how can it be expressed in a way that convinces the audience? I think he keeps that question constantly within himself, building his performances while struggling with it. To fully and perfectly express music through skating is not something that can easily be done.”

 

I see, it's the sound.

 

Hanyu seems to melt into the music when he performs. He's been like that since his amateur days. That aspect has become even more refined now. Perhaps it should be called “growth.”

 

After turning professional, Hanyu’s aura changed slightly. In the case of “GIFT,” he had become a flawless success story.

 

His stage was no longer a place of competition. Even so, he still retained a kind of ascetic, monk-like perseverance. He is always single-minded.

 

There is a hidden sense of "earnestness" in Yuzuru Hanyu’s performances. That is what makes them beautiful.

 

Tsuzuki and I also spoke about the quadruple Axel. We discussed Hanyu’s statement that he “does not want to give up yet and will continue challenging it.”

 

“He has always said that he wants to 'take on challenges' as the culmination of his skating career. I think he continues to train with that mindset. However, once you turn professional, you become very sensitive to things like falls. I think he is careful about presenting his skating in a way that avoids such mistakes. I think he sees delivering a perfect performance as his mission, or rather, as his belief. In the past, when skaters turned professional, their technical skills would often decline and their skating would become more superficial. But Hanyu is different. He absolutely will not perform like that. He won’t show it. He is thinking about raising his level even further.”

 

Tsuzuki said.

 

 

 

RE_PRAY

 

Spoiler

Shoichiro Tsuzuki Shoichiro Tsuzuki watched “Yuzuru Hanyu ICE STORY 2nd ‘RE_PRAY’ TOUR” (hereafter RE_PRAY) in Yokohama. His seat was in the front row of the lowest level.

 

There were many spectators from China around his seat as well.

 

“And then people kept coming to me one after another, saying ‘Please give me your autograph,’ ‘Can I take a photo with you?’ I was really surprised. I must have written ‘Shoichiro Tsuzuki’ about 200 times. Before the show started and during the intermission. I think everyone actually wanted Hanyu’s autograph. Since they didn't have that opportunity, they came to me instead. There was no helping it.”

 

Tsuzuki laughed heartily as he said this, then, as usual, began speaking about Yuzuru Hanyu. He spoke eloquently.

 

That day, he referred to Hanyu as “God.” He also called him “the universe.” Whenever he says such things, Tsuzuki always looks proud.

 

“Hanyu was extremely motivated. He was moving at a level almost like he was still competing.”

 

That is Tsuzuki’s impression of 'RE_PRAY.'

 

“In terms of the overall structure, it felt to me that everything Hanyu had in mind to do was present in that performance. There was a side of him like a current competitive skater, and a side of him challenging a new world. I think he wanted to show what kind of skating becomes possible when you step outside the rules. His skating is truly incredible. He never misses the music at all. Every single sound is expressed. One, two, three, four—all of it becomes expression. Hanyu is truly a professional. I think he wanted to show, ‘this is what being a professional looks like.’”

 

I watched 'RE_PRAY' in a movie theater.

 

Hanyu’s skating felt as if it carried his very soul. It was like skating that cuts off all retreat. It felt like he was showing us his way of life.

 

The edges of his skates make sound, sharpening the entire space. And yet, there is something soft and warm about it. He was utterly beautiful.

 

“He must have trained extensively. Otherwise, those movements wouldn’t be possible, given his skating and technique. The same goes for his jumps. He was jumping while expressing intense emotion, and yet he was almost flawless. Current competitive skaters may perform elements of a very high technical level, but in terms of performance and expression, Hanyu is superior. That performance is something he acquired after turning professional. It has become a new weapon for him. On top of that, he skates alone for two hours, which shows incredible stamina. It's simply astonishing. Looking around the world, there is no other skater who can do that. Even highly accomplished skaters tend to drop in level after retiring. Hanyu cannot accept that. He always wants to deliver his absolute best. That is why he trains relentlessly. There are no gaps in him. As I watched him this time, thinking, ‘So he can even do this now,’ I found myself moved to tears.”

 

In Yokohama, Hanyu said something to the effect of, ‘Thank you for giving strength to someone as insignificant as myself.’

 

To this, Tsuzuki said:

 

“I think he felt a sense of unity between himself and the audience. There was a feeling in the venue that the spectators and the performer were sharing their hearts. That kind of atmosphere is not something that can easily be created in a show. I feel something beyond the soul. Hanyu, well, he’s already a god. It feels as if the god of skating is performing.”

 

Not a champion, but a god? Tsuzuki looked very proud. At times I chimed in with, “Yes, yes, exactly.”

 

Yuzuru Hanyu’s skating brings happiness to those who watch it. Since leaving competition, this has become even more true. I think the viewers, too, have been freed from the rules and gained a sense of liberation.

 

I asked Tsuzuki about Hanyu's statement that he "lacks confidence."

 

“No, I think what lies behind ‘I lack confidence’ is the feeling that ‘I should be able to do even more.’ A kind of resistance toward himself. He is extremely competitive, so I think that’s why those words come out. From the past to the present, he has steadily developed himself. And now he is challenging the future. I can’t wait to see what kind of form that will take. Hanyu is currently working with people from various fields. In other words, I think many people are astonished by him, deeply impressed, and hold high expectations for him. He has the ability to make top-level professionals think, ‘I want to try doing it this way next.’ That is why so many opportunities for new challenges are being offered to him. I think his current state is one in which people who are drawn to him naturally gather around him.”

 

Throughout the interview, Tsuzuki was smiling the entire time. He laughed out loud several times.

 

“So, you see, Yuzuru Hanyu has become a god-like figure skater, far beyond anything I could have ever imagined. He is limitless. He is the universe. He exists on a cosmic level,” Tsuzuki said.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu has the power to make people happy. He probably knows it himself. That is why he always “puts his soul into every skate.”

 

I find myself thinking: may he be blessed with good fortune.

 

[yuzurujenn]

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

 

 

Chapter 4: One-of-a-Kind

 

GIFT

 

Spoiler

On Sunday, February 26, 2023, I left my home in Yokohama at 3:00 p.m.

 

I had been in good spirits since morning. That said, because I was undergoing cancer treatment, I couldn't exactly say I felt physically well. I felt nauseous, had stomach and abdominal pain, and was very dizzy.

 

Before leaving, I took my prescribed medications. I took about a handful and put the emergency dose in my jacket pocket. I always keep water in my carry-on bag.

 

Then I put on a down coat, slipped into my boots, wrapped a scarf around my neck, and brought four disposable heat packs.

 

The hat was one I had bought in Finland. The lap blanket was still my favorite media souvenir from the PyeongChang Olympics in South Korea.

 

The doctor had told me to avoid catching a cold because "it would be a problem if I couldn't continue treatment." Better safe than sorry.

 

I desperately, absolutely had to go. A friend had arranged a car to take me there and back, so I didn't have to worry about the journey.

 

In the car, I thought about what would happen from 5:00 p.m. onwards (the start time of the show).

 

An ice show lasting about three hours at Tokyo Dome, featuring only Yuzuru Hanyu. What kind of performance would it be? I thought about it, but I couldn't quite imagine it.

 

I was going to receive a gift. Blessed with good fortune, I was going to see a new Yuzuru Hanyu. Since retiring from competition, he had become astonishingly new in every sense. He continued to have a revolutionary impact on figure skating.

 

The highway was surprisingly empty, and the car sped along. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen it like that. Thanks to that, we arrived much earlier than expected.

 

The wind was strong around Tokyo Dome.

 

I spotted someone wearing a white jacket with pale blue pockets. It was official merchandise from "GIFT." It had already sold out and was no longer available. As I passed them, I thought, "That's nice."

 

Apparently, 35,000 spectators had gathered at the venue. Once again, I was struck by how extraordinary Yuzuru Hanyu was. How special.

 

An unprecedented show was about to begin. In just a few moments, the world of figure skating would change. Someone was about to do what nobody had ever done before, what nobody had even imagined doing. And that someone was Yuzuru Hanyu.

 

"GIFT," a solo performance by a figure skater at Tokyo Dome, was the first attempt of its kind in history. Despite the large venue, tickets had sold out through a lottery system.

 

In addition, live viewings were held in more than eighty movie theaters across Japan. They were also held in Hong Kong, Taiwan, and South Korea, while Disney+ streamed the event live.

 

The show followed the story of Yuzuru Hanyu's life, with Hanyu himself serving as executive producer.

 

The staff was fantastic. The music, performances, choreography, visuals, and dancing were all first-class. The audience seemed delighted.

 

The rink in the center had a commanding presence, as though it knew this was the main event, not a rehearsal.

 

Before the performance, announcements repeatedly informed the audience that cheering was allowed during this show.

 

Over the years, the COVID-19 pandemic had gradually continued to change society.

 

If I had been feeling better, I would have cheered. After the show started, there were many moments when I wanted to shout, "Bravo!" The rink was far away, so I don't know whether my voice would have reached it.

 

"GIFT" began with splendor and grandeur.

 

After "Firebird" came "Hope & Legacy," "One Summer's Day," "Ballade No. 1," and finally, at the end of the first half, "Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso." Between these programs, a story unfolded through projection mapping.

 

By the way, Hanyu is also an excellent narrator. Perhaps because he was telling the story of his own life, but his words felt completely natural and resonated deeply.

 

"It's okay."

 

When he said those words, I wiped away my tears. In my hand was a terrycloth handkerchief.

 

The handkerchief was designed in the colors of "SEIMEI." I always carried it with me during Hanyu's competitions.

 

There are certainly moments in life when things are not okay. But it is still possible to move toward a better future. If you don't give up, it is absolutely possible.

 

I think he has proven that through relentless, painstaking effort. That is why Yuzuru Hanyu is always the best. He appears before us in a form worthy of praise.

 

"GIFT" was no exception. I applauded until my hands hurt. In the first half, I especially loved the production and performance of "Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso."

 

It was a reenactment of the Beijing Olympics. It began with a six-minute warm-up.

 

Hanyu looked like a fighter in every sense of the word. Not simply an athlete. Not merely a performer. A fighter—that is how he appeared to me.

 

Hanyu landed the quadruple Salchow, a jump of fate (in Beijing, he failed it due to an accident), and cleanly jumped a quadruple toe loop–triple toe loop combination on a tight axis.

 

The jumps were absolutely magnificent. His fighting spirit was also admirable. Bravo! I felt a surge of emotion that made my body temperature rise.

 

After the first half ended, LINE messages started coming in on my phone, which had been on mute. I exchanged messages with friends, my editor, and the Tsuzuki family, all saying things like “4” and “amazing.”

 

My editor (from Disney+) sent me this message: "Roncap was wonderful. The 4S, 4T-3T, and 3A were amazing!"

 

And I replied:

"Tears! It's truly wonderful."

"It felt like the Olympics again."

 

The pursuit of perfection is nothing less than a confrontation with hardship. Whether you call it a "dream" or a "challenge," it is the same. It forces you to face profound solitude.

 

I want to say it once more.

 

That is why Yuzuru Hanyu is beautiful. He keeps walking in the direction he desires. He never stays in one place. Nourished by an unending dream, he continues to transform the shape of his life.

 

Hanyu often says:

"I hope I can be of some help to someone, even just a little."

 

He is "okay."

 

After a break of about forty minutes, the second half began.

 

The program consisted of "Let Me Entertain You," "Ashura-chan," "The Phantom of the Opera," "A Dream That Will Someday End," and "Notte Stellata."

 

I didn’t know “Ashura-chan,” but I liked it right away. And Hanyu’s dancing was amazing.

 

How much practice must it take to dance like that on ice? Even in such fast-tempo music, his skating never missed a beat. I could feel Yuzuru Hanyu's pride in every movement.

 

And then came "Notte Stellata." It is one of my favorite programs. Countless feathers floated through the air. Not just on the rink, but fluttering throughout the entire arena.

 

It’s wrong to judge beauty in terms of winning or losing. It’s wrong, but I’ll say it anyway: this was their victory. Everyone involved in “GIFT” should be proud of its success.

 

As for Hanyu, I have no words. He was breathtakingly beautiful. Watching him, my heart was filled with emotion. Tears welled up.

 

He has so much he wants to convey to others. And wasn’t this night the moment when he managed to express it all, leaving nothing behind? It was a truly wonderful gift.

 

"GIFT" became a historic ice show. It will be remembered as a performance that only Yuzuru Hanyu could have created. It will remain in the hearts of many people as a cherished memory.

 

I got up from my seat during the end credits.

 

I had taken my medication as needed, but I was feeling unwell. It was disappointing, but there was nothing I could do. If I collapsed, I would cause trouble for everyone. That was the last thing I wanted.

 

On the ride home, I remembered a conversation I once had with Tatiana Tarasova in Russia.

 

She said, sipping her jam-filled tea:

 

"I think 'Swan Lake' would be perfect for Hanyu. I'm sure it would be wonderful."

 

Today, Yuzuru Hanyu was as noble and beautiful as a swan.

 

 

 

Touching The Heart

 

Spoiler

November 4, 2023, Saturday. Yokohama.

 

Applause erupts.

 

It overlaps in scattered layers, sounding almost like falling rain. The rink remains dim. The light cast by the spotlights is beautiful.

 

It's like rays of light.

 

I am watching it in a movie theater. I couldn’t attend the venue. Bad luck with the lottery, I suppose. But watching figure skating in a cinema is not bad at all. The impact is overwhelming.

 

The seats in the back are full. Somewhere, a faint voice can be heard.

 

“I wish we could have gone to Saitama Super Arena.”
“There’s still Yokohama, though.”

 

That's right. The same show will be performed in Saga City next January and in Yokohama City in February (if tickets are available, that is).

 

Yuzuru Hanyu, Japanese male, 28 years old.

 

He gathers an audience of 14,000 at Saitama Super Arena. The live performance is broadcast in cinemas across the country, and aired live on a CS television network. He accomplishes this incredible feat all on his own.

 

It is just past 5 p.m. His new tour, “RE_PRAY,” is about to begin.

 

“Yuzuru Hanyu ICE STORY 2nd ‘RE_PRAY’ TOUR” is a production where Hanyu serves as executive producer, with MIKIKO as stage director and choreographer. A game-like structure forms the core, and various aspects of life are layered onto its progression.

 

The projection mapping reminds me of “GIFT.” Hanyu speaks and walks. That alone makes me want to cry.

 

His narration resonates deeply. He has lived in a way that makes his words reach people’s hearts. That is why he draws so many people in.

 

Hanyu appears in a simple white costume, wearing a hood. He looks like a boy singing a sacred hymn, giving off a pure and untainted impression.

 

When he spreads his shoulders and moves his arms, feathers flutter in the visuals. “RE_PRAY” begins like that.

 

The first half includes: “A Dream That Will Someday End -original,” “Gate of Living,” “Hope & Legacy,” “Megalovania,” and “Messenger of Destruction.”

 

It's an interesting structure. Dreams eventually come to an end somewhere. You may continue holding onto them freely, but there will come a day when you realize they cannot be fulfilled. That is life.

 

I don’t know Hanyu in detail. I’ve seen him in interviews, but I have no way of knowing anything beyond that.

 

Still, watching the first half, I strongly felt his evolution.

 

To be more specific, he has become more refined. His expression has deepened even further. You can feel his determination. In my view, he's shown us his unwavering commitment to "living with skating."

 

I am captivated by his raw, abrasive performance in “Megalovania,” the way he kicks and carves into the ice. It is quite unconventional. Each time he strikes the ice, fine shards fly up. The air turns sharp. I can almost feel the sting of impact and think of pain. The noisy, jagged edges feel refreshing. How striking this ‘rough’ Yuzuru Hanyu is. The black costume suits him perfectly as well.

 

“Messenger of Destruction” is a highly difficult program. He performs jumps on a thin axis, including quadruple Salchow and toe loop. If you examine the structure closely, it would be fully competitive even in an actual competition.

 

In competitions, he always shone. He made people happy. And he still does. He is shining brilliantly.

 

Even without being in the arena, the intensity still comes through. It leaves me feeling happy.

 

The intermission is 30 minutes.

 

During that time, the rink is not shown on the cinema screen. Voices can be heard here and there, and the excitement makes them a little louder

 

The second half begins with “A Dream That Will End Someday; Re,” followed by “Requiem of Heaven and Earth,” “One Summer’s Day,” and “Haru yo, Koi.”

 

What I always think about is the ‘unchanging’ part within him, despite his constant evolution. For example, his feelings toward the Great East Japan Earthquake. His unwavering commitment to standing alongside those in grief is deeply moving.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu is a world-class athlete, loved by many people. The ‘expression’ he shares will undoubtedly continue to inspire and encourage people in the future.

 

Watching his performance, I felt like clasping my hands together in prayer. I also pray. I do what I can. Seasons turn. Spring will come someday. Surely.

 

The encore includes “Let Me Entertain You,” “SEIMEI,” and “Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso.”

 

The arena is filled with thunderous applause. Even in the cinema, people are clapping. There are so many moments that make you want to applaud.

 

What is most astonishing is Hanyu's ironman-like endurance. The show is, needless to say, extremely high in quality. It is superb. And to skate this solo for over two hours, how can you even describe it? It's simply amazing.

 

What I find most remarkable is that he does not destroy his past.

 

He does not break the glory of his competitive career. Instead, he effortlessly transcends it and shines anew and beautifully. He reigns supreme, still a champion.

 

“RE_PRAY” is that kind of show. It is a show that tells us Yuzuru Hanyu is truly one of a kind.

 

Towards the end, standing near the center of the rink, he says:

 

“I hope that even just a little of what I do reaches something inside you.”

 

It was far more than just a little. At least for me, it struck so deeply it almost hurt.

 

I’m so happy to be alive.

 

With that feeling, I leave the cinema. On a Saturday night, the streets are filled with people walking.

 

 

 

Echoes of Life

 

Spoiler

I saw Yuzuru Hanyu’s ICE STORY 3rd “Echoes of Life” TOUR (hereafter “Echoes”) in Chiba. The venue was LaLa arena TOKYO-BAY.

 

Later, when someone asked me, “How was ‘Echoes’?”

 

I replied, “It was like literature.”

 

The beauty of the show was beyond words, and it was magnificently lavish. My mood was lifted. I felt so exhilarated I wanted to jump for joy.

 

At the beginning, Yuzuru Hanyu says:

“What am I?”
“What is my purpose?”
“What is my 'life,' my 'existence'?”

 

In reality, the questions are posed through narration and by the protagonist ‘Nova’ within the projection mapping.

 

‘Life’ and ‘living’ are themes that Hanyu has long been interested in, and this time he wrote the story himself.

 

Needless to say, these are difficult themes with no easy answers. It is philosophy. The deliberate choice feels very much like Hanyu. I feel a sense of personal attachment.

 

As a performer, he had evolved again.

 

There is no need to even comment further on his expression. It has elegance. It moves the heart. I let out a sigh. What else could I say? I cannot find the words. It is like a flower in full bloom.

 

On the ice, Yuzuru Hanyu danced very quietly, yet wildly, gently yet fiercely.

 

He landed beautiful jumps with tight axis—quadruple Salchow, quadruple toe loop, triple Axel, and so on. He skated alone for about 2 hours and 25 minutes.

 

Throughout the show, the question “What is ‘I’?” was repeated.

 

In the final stretch, an “answer to life” is reached, concluding: “The meaning of my life. I will fulfill the role of my life.”

 

“Echoes” was like literature itself.

 

It was as beautiful as always, but more complex and more difficult than usual.

 

I felt the heaviness of what Hanyu is carrying. I thought about unresolved pain. In the hopeful ending, I thought about his way of life, his very existence itself. A strong soul that looks straight ahead.

 

"Bravo," I said.

 

My voice was slightly trembling. It was not very loud. But, mixed in with the great cheers of the venue, my “Bravo” was also praising him.

 

As the encore was nearing its end, as if bursting with emotion, he shouted:

 

“Everyone, you’re the strongest!”

 

Yes, Yuzuru Hanyu is the strongest. In an ice show, he makes people seriously contemplate the “meaning of life.”

 

The setlist for the final day of “Echoes of Life” is as follows. This is reproduced as it was given to the press on the day:

 

(1) First Pulse
(2) Ubugoe ~ Meguri
(3) Utai IV ~ Reawakening
(4) Mass Destruction -Reload-
(5) Piano Collection
(i) 6 Pieces for Piano, Op.118: No.3, Ballade in G Minor. Allegro energico
(ii) The Well-Tempered Clavier, Book 1: No.2, Prelude and Fugue in C Minor, BWV 847
(iii) Keyboard Sonata in D Minor, K.141
(iv) 12 Études, Op.25: No.12 in C Minor “Ocean”
(v) 12 Études, Op.10: No.4 in C-sharp Minor “Torrent”
(6) Ballade No.1 in G Minor, Op.23
(7) Goliath (2024 Remix)
(8) Aqua’s Journey (Piano Solo Ver.)
(9) Eclipse/blue
(10) GATE OF STEINER - Aesthetics on Ice
(11) Danny Boy
(12) Hymn of the Soul

Encore
(1) Let Me Entertain You
(2) MEGALOVANIA
(3) SEIMEI

 

Just adding a small impression: every program felt refined, and I kept thinking, “How skillful.”

 

Hanyu doesn’t just perform something; he becomes it.

 

For example, in “Utai IV ~ Reawakening,” what was presented was overwhelming beauty.

 

I thought, "Is that even a human?"

 

A program without jumps, only refined art remains there.

[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 Do I Go 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 Lived My Life Trying Very Hard

 

— 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.

 

So That I Can Become Even 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).

 

 

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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.

 

[yuzurujenn]

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

 

 

Chapter 6: Dedicated to the Seeker

Xebio Arena Sendai

 

Spoiler

It's autumn 2025, and I'm at Xebio Arena Sendai.

 

It is located at 1-4-10 Asuto Nagamachi, Taihaku Ward, Sendai City, Miyagi Prefecture, about a 5-minute walk from the east exit of JR Nagamachi Station.

 

Xebio Arena Sendai is a facility that opened in October 2012. It underwent a major renovation starting in September 2024 and now boasts a skating rink that meets international standards (60 x 30 meters).

 

Because it is a year-round rink, there is a chance that Olympic athletes could emerge from here one day. After all, Sendai is a place where dreams have come true. It has produced two Olympic gold medalists.

 

The arena, based on black tones, is stylish and looks very modern. It is very beautiful. There are no boards around the rink, so the spectator seats are very close.

 

The ice is beautiful. It is perfectly transparent. Just beneath the surface, cracks run across, overlapping one another. The cracks themselves are frozen, resembling long, slender pieces of quartz.

 

“It’s beautiful,” I say to Director Koike Reiki, who is showing me around.

 

“Yes,” he replies. “This is exactly what Hanyu meant when he described the ice of this rink as ‘young’...”

 

This refers to an ice show held in July 2025.

 

“When people skate on the rink, cracks form in the ice. Water enters those cracks and freezes again, and this process repeats, gradually making the entire surface more compact. The weight of many skaters also helps it become firmer. That’s how the ice is strengthened. As cracks form, the ice gradually appears whiter. The reason this rink’s ice is so transparent is because it is still young. At that time, we were lacking in many areas, so I think it must have been an extremely difficult condition for Hanyu.”

 

I will now go into more detail about Yuzuru Hanyu at that time.

 

“We learned many things from Hanyu. He showed great consideration for us. We are truly grateful,” Koike said.

 

 

 

The First Skate

 

Spoiler

Xebio Arena Sendai reopened on July 5, 2025. On the same day, an ice show titled “The First Skate” was held, an event organized by Sendai City.

 

The show, featuring skaters with ties to Sendai such as Yuzuru Hanyu, Takeshi Honda, Akiko Suzuki, and Rika Hongo, was extremely popular, attracting over 30,000 applications to attend.

 

Koike said:

 

“We held a lottery, and in the end, 3,378 people were admitted. Ticket prices were 8,000 yen for first-floor seats, 5,000 yen for second-floor seats, and 3,000 yen for third-floor seats. I watched from the first floor, and I could clearly see how much everyone was enjoying themselves. Since this arena is compact and has no boards, I think it offered a sense of realism that you don’t get in larger venues. I think you could hear the 'sounds' of the skating, like the spins and jumps, very close by.”

 

Yuzuru Hanyu appeared last, performing “Haru yo, Koi” and “Let Me Entertain You.”

 

“I think there were a lot of Hanyu fans in the audience. The excitement when he appeared was overwhelming. In that sense, I felt he is a very important figure for Miyagi Prefecture and the figure skating world. Even now, he is still performing at a very high level, at the top of his game. The children in the audience had sparkling eyes.”

 

The children gathered at the venue were invited by the city of Sendai. There were 60 of them. All of them belong to local skating clubs.

 

Seeing “real excellence” at a young age is a great blessing. The impact can be enormous. It can even change a life. It changes how people feel.

 

“Yes. I think the influence was tremendous. I hope that one day this rink will produce world-class athletes. Not just medal winners, but I would be happy if people with the same character as Hanyu are nurtured here.”

 

The ice rink at Xebio Arena Sendai is generally not open for public skating. Usage is primarily limited to about 150 members registered with the Miyagi Prefectural Skating Federation.

 

“We’ve only been open for four months, so we haven’t had many sessions yet, but we’ve started offering free sessions for local residents. So far, about 800 people have participated. They skated in five 90-minute sessions on a rotating basis. We don’t always have them available, but on that day we prepared about 500 pairs of rental skates.”

 

Koike repeatedly said he hopes to increase such opportunities in the future.

 

Figure skating starts with imitation. That is what Yuzuru Hanyu once said. You watch someone, imitate them, and gradually improve. You come to love skating, and want to get better.

 

The initial trigger is very important. It serves as a stepping stone for broadening the base. I hope that opportunities like this continue to increase, not just at Xebio Arena Sendai.

 

 

 

One Centimeter

 

Spoiler

Now, from here, the story shifts to something about the rink being ‘soft.’

 

It’s a story that conveys Yuzuru Hanyu’s high level of professionalism. He is extremely thorough. Always.

 

This is also a record of the efforts of Koike and the team. They worked tirelessly for "The First Skate." They even pulled all-nighters. But they didn't mind at all. In fact, they enjoyed it.

 

The ice show was a single performance on July 5, but Hanyu had skated there several times before the actual show. After practice, we would ask him things like, ‘How did the ice feel?’

 

Koike paused briefly, then chuckled softly.

 

“Given who he is, I did have some preconceptions. I thought he might be difficult or hard to talk to. But in reality, he was completely unpretentious and very natural in how he interacted with us. My impression was that he was both ‘just as he is’ and ‘very considerate.’ That really stood out to me.”

 

The ice rink at Xebio Arena Sendai was, of course, properly frozen. It was 4 centimeters thick. However, due to the intense heat that year, the ice wasn't in its best condition.

 

After practice, Hanyu said: “The ice is a little soft. It’s young.”

 

So what was it actually like? I asked Koike. Was it something like water floating on the surface?

 

“No, it was properly frozen. There was no water floating on the surface. However, as a characteristic of our arena, the rink has no boards. If there are boards, cold air tends to accumulate around the rink, which helps keep the ice temperature relatively stable. Without boards, the cold air escapes more easily. For the show, we prepared the ice through trial and error. That’s where we started.”

 

A few days later, Hanyu said:

 

“It’s still a bit soft. The bottom 3 centimeters are frozen, but the top 1 centimeter is soft.”

 

Listening to Koike’s story, I was reminded of a fairy tale by the Danish writer Hans Christian Andersen. I believe the title was “The Princess and the Pea.”

 

In it, a princess couldn’t sleep at all because she was bothered by the unevenness of a pea placed under thick layers of bedding.

 

As a child, I remember thinking after finishing it: “A true princess really is different.”

 

Hanyu is like a character from a fairy tale. He senses the ice with extraordinary sensitivity. Even while standing on a thin blade edge, he understands the smallest details.

 

Koike says:

 

“‘The bottom is hard, but the top 1 centimeter is…’ That’s what he was saying. I was truly amazed by that level of sensitivity. I also play ice hockey, so I thought I had a general understanding of the hardness and softness of ice. But I could never imagine being able to detect a difference of 1 centimeter. When Hanyu said that, I was honestly taken aback. At first, I didn’t even really understand what he was talking about.”

 

Hanyu also mentioned the following:

 

• “When the blade makes contact with the ice, the toe pick shifts slightly, making it harder to transition into the next movement.”
• “Because the ice is soft, my body doesn’t lift properly when jumping.”

 

Koike recalls:

 

“Regarding jumps, he used various expressions, such as ‘it feels like I’m trying to jump on a mattress’ or ‘my body sinks and doesn’t come back up.’”

 

Hanyu also said:

 

“I’ll try jumping at the Izumi rink (Ice Rink Sendai) tonight. It might just be a mismatch in my own sense, or something like the yips, so please don’t worry too much about it.”

 

“Please don’t worry too much.” Those words deeply moved Koike. He felt sincerely sorry toward Hanyu.

 

“For someone of his caliber to say that... I think he was probably being considerate when he mentioned a ‘mismatch in his sense’ or 'something like the yips.' He had seen the staff working on it since two days earlier, so I think he chose those words out of consideration for us.”

 

From there, they tackled the task of making the ice even harder. In other words, it was a battle against that one centimeter.

 

First, they tried installing temporary boards. They were made of vinyl, an attempt to keep the cold air from escaping.

 

“When we had him skate again, he said, ‘It’s a little better, but that 1 centimeter is still there.’”

 

At that point, the refrigeration system freezing the ice from the floor was already operating at its limit (−15°C).”

 

Koike continues:

 

“Hanyu also said that he would like the humidity inside the rink to be maintained at 50% to 60%. That is apparently the appropriate level.”

 

In the summer, the humidity around the rink exceeded 70%. The refrigeration system was already operating at its limit, so they could no longer cool it from below. Using a dehumidifier would lower the humidity, but it would also warm the air. So what should they do?

 

“It became a constant struggle. We tried running dehumidifiers at night to dry the air, and using air conditioning during the day to lower the room temperature… it was a continuous process of trial and error. In the end, because temperature and humidity are closely related, we decided to lower the room temperature as much as possible. In simple terms, that meant turning on the air conditioning. But if the air hits the ice directly, even cold air can cause it to melt, and water would start to appear on the surface.”

 

So the next challenge became how to lower the room temperature without letting cold air directly hit the ice. People were also brought in to address this. Consultants involved in the facility’s construction, general contractors, rink specialists—among them were even elite personnel who came from Hachinohe City in Aomori Prefecture.

 

The entire staff worked together to think it through: how could they create good ice for July 5?

 

“We held daily meetings with about a dozen people. Everyone was positive, and it felt genuinely interesting. Hanyu has a deep understanding of ice. We all enjoyed figuring out how to meet his high demands.”

 

They made an exception to lift the air-conditioning limiter and lowered the room temperature as much as possible. They measured the airflow and adjusted the angle of the vents so that it would not hit the ice. They filled the small gaps at the rink entrances with vinyl sheets.

 

“The show was held in summer, so the ice would melt from the edges of the rink. Normally, you would add water and refreeze it, but that would take too much time.”

 

After consideration, they decided to install an ice maker. It wasn’t anything special, just a standard beverage ice machine.

 

On the day I visited Xebio Arena Sendai, small ice cubes were scattered around the corners of the rink.

 

“Ah, these. First, we use them to fill in the edges of the ice, and then we pour water over them, which makes it freeze faster. Right now you can see ice cubes because of maintenance, but when skating, we smooth it out with a side cutter. I learned this method back then.”

 

The Zamboni cannot reach the very edge of the rink. Therefore, a special side cutter was used. By steadily building up what they could do one by one, they protected the 4-centimeter ice. They tried to harden that 1 centimeter.

 

“On the 4th, everyone stayed up all night monitoring the air conditioning and refrigeration systems. In fact, even up until the day before the show, the situation was still ‘that 1 centimeter is still there,’ and the ice conditions were by no means ideal. But somehow, we managed to get the OK on the day of the show. Hanyu made the following comment.”

 

I will quote that ‘comment’ from an article in Kahoku Shimpo dated July 6, 2025. After "The First Skate" ended, Hanyu said:

 

“After trying different room temperature and humidity control settings, I felt that the ice had finally come together, and I am deeply grateful for that. You can see the audience’s expressions. I think it’s a venue where you can really feel the quality of the performance up close, so I would be happy if people would come visit.”

 

In other words, the team's feelings reached Hanyu clearly. Even if not everything was perfect, he expressed that he was ‘deeply grateful.’

 

That experience must have been invaluable for both sides. Nothing is born from compromise. Without striving for something better, there can be no progress.

 

Koike says:

 

“I think we put a considerable burden on Hanyu. But he never once said anything like that. When we were working, he would come running over from a distance and say, ‘Thank you for your hard work today!’ and when he left, he would bow deeply and say, ‘Thank you very much!’ He did this every single time.”

 

Each time, the staff would also bow deeply in return. One can almost picture the scene. Hanyu never puts on airs. He has always been like that.

 

“He was so friendly and easy to talk to. He generously shared his knowledge… How should I put it, because he was so serious about it, we also became increasingly serious ourselves. Even when the expectations were high, everyone wanted to surpass them. I think being able to work with him was a real asset for us. Personality is really important, isn’t it? I don’t know much about figure skating, but I can totally understand why Hanyu has so many fans,” Koike said.

 

I’m also a fan of this world-class skater with a good personality. I think his indomitable spirit is admirable.

 

[yuzurujenn]

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

 

 

A Very Short Afterword

 

Spoiler

Ice Rink Sendai is the home rink of Yuzuru Hanyu. It is located in Izumi Ward, Sendai City, at 9-2 Takadamachō.

 

On weekdays it is open from 12:00 to 18:00, and on weekends and public holidays from 12:00 to 16:00. The skating fee (adult) is 1,200 yen, and skate rentals are available for 500 yen. Sizes range from 15 cm to 31 cm. It is a year-round rink.

 

On the day I visited, children from a nursery school were skating. They were accompanied by several adults.

 

Everyone was wearing freely available rental helmets. Sizes are: pink and light blue for S, light blue for M, and black for L.

 

The rink also offers rental sleds called “Ashika-kun” (300 yen per 30 minutes), but the children were already skating on their own feet, and some were even running. As expected of Miyagi.

 

The rink is frozen solid, a pure white. Many people must have skated here over time. The ice is no longer young. Yuzuru Hanyu grew up and continues to hone his skills at this rink widely used by the public.

 

Looking at his panel displayed on the wall, I thought: what if another athlete who goes on to succeed on the world stage emerges from here? The thought was exciting. It may seem obvious, but it feels meaningful precisely because I am at Ice Rink Sendai.

 

Overlapping cheerful voices of “waa-waa” and “kyaa-kyaa” can be heard. It was a good day to visit. I like watching such joyful scenes. They make me feel happy.

 

My interview notes also include this: “Many pink helmets, only a few black ones.”

 

Now, on the occasion of the publication of ‘Dear Yuzuru Hanyu,’ I would like to express my gratitude.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu, thank you for taking the time for this interview despite your busy schedule. You are a truly inspiring presence for writers. I hope to have the opportunity to meet you again someday.”

 

To Shoichiro Tsuzuki, I am grateful for the opportunity to compile your serialized column ‘Shoichiro Tsuzuki’s Words’ (published in Quadruple Axel). I look forward to continuing to hear more from you about Hanyu. Thank you very much.

 

Thank you to Reiki Koike and Kaori Imada of Xebio Arena Sendai for your detailed explanations and for kindly showing me around the facility

 

To Aki Kanaida of Shueisha, the editor in charge of the web series “Naoko Utsunomiya Talks About Skating” (Shueisha Shinsho Plus). Thank you for granting permission for its publication. I was glad that you were pleased to see my ‘talks’ take shape.

 

To Yoshiki Kogaito of Sports Nippon Newspapers, thank you for providing the wonderful photo for the cover.

 

To Masaki Fujioka, the photographer who took my author portrait, thank you as always.

 

And I would like to express my sincere gratitude to Tatsuya Murao of Yama to Keikoku-sha, the editor in charge of this book. Thank you for all your support. During times when my health was not good, you came all the way to Yokohama many times. I am truly grateful.

 

Finally, to all the readers, thank you for your long-standing support. I love figure skating. I will continue to watch it. I hope for your continued support.

 

 

February 2026