Chapter 121 Lost
Okuyama's performance finally ended with the audience's applause.
Yuzuru Hanyu quickly changed out of his performance clothes backstage, nodded his thanks to the staff who had accompanied him, and without further ado, returned directly to the hotel. Lately, it's been like this almost every day—rehearsal, performance, transition, more rehearsal, more performance, like a precision machine wound up with a spring, never stopping for a moment.
Although he only danced two routines this round of SOI, he gave his all to every performance and meticulously practiced every time. The almost constant travel between cities, with no full days off, was exhausting enough just from the transportation, security checks, changing venues, and positioning. Yet, he was the one who couldn't slack off, the one who drew the most attention in every performance. Especially now that he's a professional, so many people are eagerly anticipating his changes, both good and bad.
He sighed deeply.
It's really the kind of tiredness that penetrates the bones.
The first thing he did upon entering was draw the hotel's heavy curtains, blocking out the neon lights and glare of the shopping mall outside. The room suddenly fell silent, save for the sound of his own breathing. He stood by the window for a few seconds, taking a deep breath, before slowly walking back to the bed.
He couldn't skip the routine. He stripped off his shirt and laid out the stretch band, foam roller, and fascia ball on the floor. Since there wasn't enough space, he propped his legs up over the edge of the bed. The muscles in his right thigh were tight, and the pain made him wince as soon as he pressed them—he'd been holding them up during practice, and it hadn't surfaced until now.
The fascia ball was pushed under his shoulder blades, and he leaned his head back on the carpet and let out a long breath. He felt dizzy and his brain seemed to have suddenly lost power.
His phone was lying on the bedside table. He reached for it, checked the time, then glanced at the lock screen—still no new messages.
He knew Le was busy, preparing for a competition for her own choreography. But he couldn't help but feel a little lost. He'd gotten used to working alone, stretching alone, and overcoming fatigue alone, but late at night, he still wanted to hear her voice.
He opened Twitter, hoping to scroll through a few posts to calm his nerves. On the third post, a photo suddenly caught his eye.
It's a preview cover released by a magazine.
The picture was almost in black and white, like a painting frozen between scenes on stage.
Le wore a gray-white tulle gown, draped over one shoulder. Her figure was as smooth as if she had just stopped spinning. She stood in front, a slender male hand resting gently on her waist. He Jiu, wearing a dark suit, looked downcast, and the angle at her was just right—
Don't cross the line, but feel in control.
It’s just like the “lead & follow” in a duet, and just like the affectionate Armand behind Marguerite.
Yuzuru Hanyu stared at the photo, his brows furrowed unconsciously. He knew it was just a performance, a reflection of their past partnership, a single moment of their characters frozen in time before the camera. Yet, that tension, uncharacteristic of him, that comment "It's so fitting," still pierced his skin like tiny needles.
He scrolled down to the comments section.
"This group is so good!"
"Margaret's sense of destiny is at its peak!"
"Please, we can just start making a movie~"
He bit the corner of his lower lip and was wondering whether to click in to see the full version when his phone vibrated.
It's her video call.
He stared at the flashing incoming call bar on the screen for a few seconds before pressing the answer button.
Across the screen, Le Zheng was wiping her hair with a towel, wearing soft pajamas. The camera was a little shaky, but the smile on her face spread warmly over her: "Did you call me? I just got out of the shower and saw the missed call."
Hanyu Yuzuru paused, lowered his head and smiled: "Yeah, it's over. I was just stretching... I'm a little tired."
"Thank you for your hard work. You must finish it carefully and don't be lazy." Her voice was soft and a little distressed.
"I saw... the photos you took." He didn't wait for her to respond and directly said what was in his heart.
"Photo?" Le was stunned for a moment, then realized, "Ah, that magazine cover, right? Has it been released? I haven't seen it yet." She tilted her head to wipe her hair, and asked with a nonchalant smile, "Do you think it looks good?"
He was silent for a moment and nodded.
“…Yeah, it looks good.”
"That's it?" She squinted her eyes and leaned closer to the camera, as if she had noticed his emotions.
He looked away, but the corners of his mouth curled up quietly, and he muttered softly: "I just... missed you."
At that moment, Le was quiet for a moment, then she lowered her head and smiled softly: "Then when your SOI arrives in Yokohama, I will pick you up after get off work."
After Le hung up the video, he still held the phone in his hand, rubbing the frame lightly with his fingertips twice, but did not put it down immediately.
She hadn't really paid much attention to the magazine's release date. The photoshoot had finished that day, but she'd hit a choreography deadline, and she was so busy she hadn't even seen the finished product. Now, seeing Hanyu's reaction... she realized the cover had already been released.
She opened social media, looked through the trending searches, and sure enough, she saw the picture.
The self on screen—with Jiu behind her, her face slightly tilted, her eyes looking past the camera, looking quiet and distant. That wasn't her private expression; that was Margaret. She knew that day, the photographer wanted to capture the aftertaste of this character "left behind" off the stage.
The studio was packed, the lights were bright, and the air conditioning was cranked up high. After she changed into her look and sat in the makeup chair, the photographer tried to chat with her, asking a lot of questions about the stage, and finally, seemingly casually, asked:
"So, your relationship with Yuzuru Hanyu... is real, right?"
She was stunned for a moment, but didn't deny it. The photographer smiled, as if confirming his judgment, and casually said, "Then if there's a chance, could you two do a cover shoot? Like this... you don't have to be publicly affectionate, just standing together is a great picture."
She didn't respond, just smiled. After taking that set of photos, she almost forgot about it.
Looking back now, that question wasn't actually offensive. It was just that she hadn't figured out how to answer it.
She thought about it, then returned to the dialog box and clicked on the message "I miss you" from Hanyu.
After a few seconds, she clicked on the cover picture again, stared at it for a moment, then lowered her head and smiled to herself.
"Remember to tell him when you have time," she thought quietly to herself, "He'll probably be very happy to hear it."
She put her phone on the bedside table, stood up and stretched. The ends of her freshly washed hair were still a little damp and slid down her shoulders. Outside the window was night, and there was no sound in the room.
She sighed softly and turned off the light.
A few days later, when Le arrived near the Yokohama venue, there was still nearly half an hour before the end of the performance.
The lights of Yokohama were bright at night, but the parking lot outside was surprisingly quiet, as if the spotlight from the stage had completely absorbed all the noise. She didn't rush out of the car. She simply turned off the engine, sat behind the wheel, lowered the seat slightly, and put her hands in her coat pockets. The light reflected off the car window, so she couldn't see what was going on inside, but she could imagine—the performance must have come to an end.
She didn't ask for a ticket to go in, nor did she plan to wait at the main entrance. She just waited in the parking lot at the side door without needing to be discovered.
Last night, when Yuzuru Hanyu returned home, it was already quite late. Hearing the sound of a key in the door lock, Le instinctively looked up and saw him rushing through the hallway, luggage in hand, only to pause at the doorway and whisper from a few meters away, "I need to take a shower first! Wait for me!"
He didn't even have time to properly remove his shoes, his entire body exuding the exhaustion of someone who had plummeted straight from the stage into reality. His jacket was still on, his hair a mess, weighing down his forehead, but his eyes were bright, as if he had just finished his last pose and rushed over.
She wanted to go over to take his luggage, or go up to hug him - but he seemed to have no intention of staying at all. He was like an arrow that was exhausted but still in flight mode, and he went straight into the bathroom, leaving only a series of vague sounds of water as company.
She knew that he probably really couldn't stand coming back to her with the sticky smell of sweat on his body.
When he came out of the shower, his wet hair had been hastily wiped with a towel. He was still wearing a baggy T-shirt and shorts. His pace was a little slower than usual, but when he saw her still waiting in the living room, his eyes immediately narrowed. He threw himself over to the sofa and squeezed into her arms with a muffled voice.
"I'm back—" He lazily fell into her arms and buried his head in her neck, "I missed you."
Le subconsciously caught him, but when she put her arms around his waist, the touch made her stunned for a second.
"You've lost weight," she whispered.
He said nothing, but continued to rub her shoulders, like a cat hiding its tiredness by acting coquettishly.
"What have you been doing these past two weeks? With such a tight schedule, are you still picky about food and not eating well? You're so thin that your bones are hurting me." She gently placed her fingers on the back of his waist. Her tone sounded like blame, but her hands unconsciously rubbed it a few times.
"No...it's mainly because I didn't sleep well..." Yuzuru Hanyu said in a low voice, but with confidence, "I'm finally back."
"If you don't come back soon, you'll be gone soon." She sighed, put the towel on his head, and muttered as she wiped it, "Your hair is half dry, you might as well let me do it."
Yuzuru Hanyu raised his head, his hair still dripping with water, and said, "I just came back to recharge."
"Your mouth never gets tired." Le couldn't help but smile, but he didn't loosen his arms. Instead, he pulled her a little closer to him.
At first, she just felt that it was "a little uncomfortable" when he hugged her, but now that she was closer, she realized that his shoulder blades were a little protruding, his waist was a little hollow, and even the original elasticity and firmness of his body had lost a layer of thickness.
I wanted to say something, but the only sound in my arms was his even breathing.
The car radio automatically switched to the next light music, and the phone silently turned off. Le leaned on the steering wheel, gazing at the lights outside the venue. Before he knew it, more people began to gather around the venue.
From the throng of people, only a few emerged from the exit, clutching glow sticks and commemorative T-shirts. Some excitedly recounted the show they'd just seen while scrolling through their social media feeds. The lights shone brightly outside the venue, and the lingering, shimmering moment of a night on tour fell on her windshield.
Le's heart suddenly felt a little tight.
That emotion… wasn’t anxiety, nor pure waiting, but a subtle, sweet yet uncomfortable anticipation.
She suddenly remembered that every time after her performance, Yuzuru Hanyu would wait for her by the car at the backstage exit. Did he feel the same way?
We meet every day and are supposed to go home together tonight, but... I just want to see him again as soon as possible.
Thinking of this, Le couldn't help but smile and raised her hand to cover her cheek. She jokingly said to herself: How did it become like this? When did she become like a little girl, who was completely attracted by someone's face and smile.
Just then, there were several brisk knocks on the car window.
"Dong-dong-dong-dong."
It has a rhythm, like some music with a beat, and it also sounds like he is saying "I'm coming".
Le looked up and saw that familiar face, smiling at her with eyes curved. He wore a hat and a sports jacket draped over his shoulders, looking like he'd just stepped out of the spotlight, his glow still lingering. His hair was damp with sweat, and his smile had a hint of silliness, as if reserved specifically for her.
She was speechless for a moment.
She reached out to unbuckle her seatbelt and was about to get out of the car when her unspoken thoughts came to her mind first.
It's over, it's really over.
I was completely defeated by this person.
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