He says “kokoro kara no tatakai wo.” Which needs some unpacking, because even though it’s like three words long, it’s a bit vague. Rather, precisely because it’s three words long, it’s vague. “kokoro kara no” = “a thing that’s from the heart” i.e. 心からの願い kokoro kara no negai = a wish (that’s) from the heart 心からの力 kokoro kara no chikara = a strength (that’s) from the heart “tatakai” = a fight (noun) BUT he doesn’t just say “fight” here. He doesn’t use the general kanji for “fight” 戦い which you would understand as protagonists fighting against their circumstances or against a rival (or delinquents fighting in the street). He uses the more advanced kanji 闘い which implies fighting a real hardship. He’s not just saying “a fight from the heart” – he’s saying “a challenge/ battle from the heart.” He’s implying that the Olympic grounds are a battlefield. (which we actually know from previous interviews) and so we get to the vague part…

“wo” “Wo,” alone, is meaningless. You attach it after a noun to show that the following verb is acting on said noun. i.e. “ドアを閉めます doa wo shimemasu” (close the door) “朝ご飯を食べます asagohan wo tabemasu” (eat breakfast) “お茶を買います ocha wo kaimasu” (buy tea) Since it’s New Year’s and this is incredibly fitting timing: よいお年を “yoi otoshi wo” = “[may you have/let’s greet/may you welcome] a good year.” Notice there’s no verb following the “wo” there. You can finish the sentence with “ お迎えください omukae kudasai” (politely requesting that the person welcomes/greets), but you don’t have to, since it’s implied. Which brings us back to Yuzuru’s sentence… His sentence isn’t a complete sentence, because he doesn’t have a verb in there. It’s left open-ended in classic proverb rumination style. So you can interpret it as him saying “do ___” or “aspire to ___” or “aim for ___” and you wouldn’t be wrong. Basically, as the athlete receiving this message, you can decide to employ the “tatakai” in whatever way best suits you. How you do the “tatakai”(fight) is up to you, as long as it’s from the heart. So finally, how I chose to capture this: “Battle from the heart” -“Battle” being a noun and verb so you can take it as “a battle from the heart” or “do battle from the heart” or “aspire to battle from the heart” or “aim for a battle from the heart.” -It sounds less clunky than “war from the heart,” -it doesn’t carry extra implications like adding a verb “wage war from the heart” (because he doesn’t actually tell you to wage an all-out war) -and “battle from the heart” feels heavier than “fight from the heart” It’s rallying against a hardship. You’re not just struggling or fighting, you are battling. Or to put it a bit less straightforward and a bit more appropriately poetic... he’s not just saying “fight,” he’s saying “battle with your heart on the line.”

In November last year, I had gotten on the Nozomi in a state of gloom, headed toward Shin-Osaka. The sequences of photos and the news clips that I had seen at the office just prior were the cause. If you’ve been [doing sports photography] for a long time, there are times when you’ll encounter situations of athletes’ injury. “No hope to make the start” “No hope [to compete] this season” “Career-threatening”… Even compared to the many situations I've witnessed and shot, the scene of his fall was close to the worst. According to our photographer who had gone ahead [of me], he'd exited the rink on his own feet. “That was one saving grace” was not something I could think. Judging from his character, he wouldn’t have allowed himself to be brought out of the rink on a stretcher no matter how intense the pain. With no more clarity on the severity of his injury that whole night, [I was] at the press room the next day. For a while, I caught up on the situation from fellow photographers, but when someone remarked, “That was an awful fall,” we all fell silent.

“He comes back time and time again” “Adversity is his favourite”… Several times, I’d written [such] words to encourage fans in this column. Thinking back now, those might have been words to myself, who was inclined to fall into negativity. And that [inclination] went on even after the Pyeongchang Olympics had started. When he landed at the Incheon Airport –– “he’s lost so much weight.” Or at the Triple Axel during his first day on ice –– “Hanyu’s original Triple Axel wasn't so forwardly inclined.” Even when he ranked first in the short program –– “The 4 minutes 30 seconds in the free program is probably going to be tough.” Despite all that, when he pushed his palms out sideways leading into his steps at that final “DA-DAN” in SEIMEI –– “YES!” The entire editorial office shook from my voice. Speaking to myself, “Now here’s the victory run.” Laying out 50 pages' worth of the photo gallery I was asked to put together, in one sitting, that day...

Oh. I’ve been his fan since Nice (t/n World Championships 2012).

The procession slowly approached and entered the shooting range of my 400mm lens. The official photographer in a red vest (t/n Sunao Noto) aboard the bus was pointing in my direction and saying something to Hanyu.

Through the viewfinder, our eyes met. Suddenly he looked 17 again, breaking into a big, big smile. And then he waved madly, yelling something ––

“TANAKA-SAAAAAN!!" 

From this day onward, I will be Tanaka-san. You got a problem with that?

(To be continued) 

–––– Department Head of Photography  

◆ 長久保豊 Yutaka Nagakubo. Born in 1962. Blue Giant, serialised in Big Comic, was a big favourite. The protagonist there was also from Sendai, wasn’t he? Great place.

(t/n 能登直 Sunao Noto - photographer also from Sendai, been following Yuzu since he was quite young, the lack of hair is sort of his trademark. His work is most often seen in Sendai Broadcast, Sportiva.

田中宣明 Nobuaki Tanaka - also photographer who’s followed Yuzu for a long time. His work can regularly be found in Ice Jewels)