My delayed emotions are catching up to me. At last, I feel overwhelmed. Lack of sleep might be amplifying a little bit. I tried to nap at intermission and sleep after. For adrenaline-related reasons, that did not happen. Worth it.
Yuzu is someone who prefers to express himself through art versus relying on speaking. When you see what he has to say, you don't filter through it like you would if he were to use words alone.
For precisely that reason, his skating feels distinct from that of his peers'. Even if you can't decipher the details, his skating is alive. It declares, it shouts, it smiles; sometimes it cries. At times, it overflows with satisfaction. At others, it brews with frustrated determination. In the final years of his competitive career, it shrouded itself in a solemn fighting spirit. GIFT defined itself through all these raw and honest emotions paired with simple yet poetic voiceovers and a dramatic array of visual effects, dance, and (of course) live music. Yuzu promised an ice "show." A fantastic show was exactly what he delivered.
Though Yuzu doesn't shy away from sharing his emotional state, he's also an incredibly private person. While his wisdom makes itself obvious based on what he chooses to tell the public and when (...and how), a lot more of it exists in what he keeps to himself.
Most of us know that he goes through hard times. It's impossible that he doesn't. Even if not because of the glare of the public eye, his toughness on himself must weigh down heavier at certain moments. Yet he successfully hides a large extent of it. When it was literally "amateur" hour, he would disappear for months at a time and then abruptly reappear at competitions, only to vanish again immediately after. Unless he deigned to mention it afterwards, no one knew what was happening in those weeks when he transformed into the elusive animal of nature documentaries.
As worrying as it was, I also like it to this day. I like that he circumvents the obligation to report his every move. I like that he only talks about things when he feels like it, and then with as few or many words or anime references as he desires. I like that he opened zero social media accounts until he needed them for work, because of course he would. Maybe it hits close to home. I often feel pressured to share my problems with people so they can make me "feel better," even if I'm not ready. That uninvited breach of boundaries usually prompts a horrible spiral of suffering. I like that he felt okay closing himself off.
Today, Yuzu filled GIFT with his entire heart, strife with all of the agony and internal turmoil that he's battled. And I like that he felt safe enough to be vulnerable and tell everyone that he's had a hard time. That he once felt deterred by the circumstances from continuing what he loved. That later, when his love wavered due to different circumstances, he tried to force himself to still find it enjoyable. There comes a point where, no matter how deep your love for something, one day you'll feel as if you're merely going through the motions. It's scary. You defined yourself by your passion for so long. How could it just go away? What are you if it goes away?
Part of me harbors the naive wish that he never had to endure such pain. It's paradoxical. To be tormented by such philosophical questions, you first have to be the type of person who would want to seek and create answers. And that type of person, someone who is pensive and caring, is always who deserves the inevitable pain the least. That's who Yuzu is—someone who won't take the easy way out.
Like life, skating challenges him in an unfair and persistent fashion. As this road continues to taunt him, I wish for him the tenacity to walk it and the inner peace to stray from it should he ever want to. I hope that when he's alone, he can remind himself not to feel lonely. And if he still does, I hope he can remember how many people love him and feel even a little bit better until he can get back on his feet. He is an undying phoenix, sinking into ashes with the promise of rising again. As many times as it takes.
Yuzu, you gathered so many talented people to your side tonight to put on an amazing production. I cannot fathom the amount of time, precision, and innovation it must have taken you and your entire team to complete it. I won't lie. Your seemingly insatiable hunger for bigger and better things can be frightening at times. Yet I adore the unbridled glee on your face when you succeed in grabbing what it is that you reach for.
P.S. Take that, 4S. Little punk of a jump had it coming.
