Chapter 117 Officially Unveiled
What would it be like to watch an ice show in a dome?
This question has been popping up frequently in Guan Yue's diving fan group lately. But every time it's brought up, no one can truly answer it—for such an unprecedented performance, no one can accurately imagine its outline.
Even now, sitting there, facing this fill-in-the-blank question, she can only wait with her heart beating for the answer to be revealed.
As the sound of a low heartbeat echoed over the venue, the Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra played the overture of "Firebird".
A giant screen lit up, displaying the journey of Yuzuru Hanyu's competitive career. Then, his gentle, clear voice began to blare, like he was telling a story.
It’s over…
Guan Yue suddenly realized that she usually relied too much on Le's translation - she couldn't understand a single word of the long Japanese narration in front of her!
But she didn't have time to be depressed for too long. The next second, she was completely swept up in the performance.
At the center of the stage, Yuzuru Hanyu slowly ascended from a lifting platform, like a phoenix traversing flames. Behind him, a crisscross of crimson and gold flames exploded across the ice. He flapped his arms, gliding through the molten light and shadows, weaving through the swirling sea of fire. He was no longer the "firebird emerging from its shell" in a fairy tale—he was a true phoenix reborn from the ashes.
The anticipation for the performance was constantly increasing. Every time I was confused by the incomprehensible Japanese, I was immediately forgiven by the beauty of the next show.
So when the ice surface was suddenly dyed with a layer of water-blue light, Guan Yue immediately sat up straight and raised the telescope, as if subconsciously preparing to greet something.
It's a very familiar melody.
"That Summer" by Joe Hisaishi.
Someone exclaimed softly first, and then the entire venue seemed to be paused by an invisible emotion.
Yuzuru Hanyu slowly glided out from a corner of the stage, his nearly pure white attire, reflected against the water's light, seemingly blending into the space. He didn't show off his skills, didn't exaggerate his emotions, simply gliding quietly. His movements were clean, almost restrained.
He lowered his head and spread his hands, as if he was praying, or as if he was listening - not to music, but to something flowing under the ice.
The water waves on the floor screen and the lights merged into soft ripples, so swaying that people almost forgot that they were still moving.
It’s beautiful, really beautiful. So beautiful that it takes your breath away.
Like a compassionate river god, like a little white dragon swimming slowly in the water, or like some kind of gentle ghost left in the human world.
Just as she was still immersed in the lingering rhythm, the next piece of music suddenly began. Xu Yi's piano notes, clean, swift, and with an unwavering uplifting spirit, instantly pierced the surface of silence.
The little girl next to her suddenly grabbed her arm.
“Ahhh! It’s Xuxu!!”
She had tried to lower her voice, but it still seemed particularly awkward in the audience who strictly adhered to the performance order. She immediately shrank her neck and covered her mouth, like a child who had done something wrong.
The inclusion of the melody from the competitive program in this ice show was a surprise no one had anticipated. Guan Yue subconsciously tensed her shoulders—she had thought she was already accustomed to the various arrangements, but she was still gripped by this sudden "sense of competition."
The two fans looked at each other and subconsciously held each other's hands, as if they were catching some impending impact.
They didn't know yet that the real killer move was yet to come.
A worrying time suddenly appeared on the electronic screen: February 10, 2022
Guan Yue's heart skipped a beat as the big screen displayed: "Beijing Olympics".
At that moment, she seemed to be pressed into memory.
It was the Beijing Winter Olympics, the day when the fateful ice cave appeared, the way he skated through the entire event despite missing a jump. It was the day she watched the broadcast alone in her dorm room, unable to sleep the entire night afterward, her WeChat Moments filled with messages like "heartache," "regret," and "why him?"
【You have six minutes for your warm up】
The announcement suddenly sounded, and then all the lights in the venue suddenly turned on—the audience seats, the sidelines, the ceiling, even the exits—all bathed in a glare, reminiscent of the minutes before a real competition. Yuzuru Hanyu appeared on the ice, dressed in his tracksuit, and began performing warm-up jumps, just as he would in a real competition. His movements were as precise and steady as ever, but under this incredibly realistic simulation, Guan Yue felt like she couldn't breathe.
This wasn't a performance, she realized. This was—
revenge.
The music started, and the melody of "Introduction and Rondo" flowed out, the rhythm and memory overlapping to an almost terrifying level.
But he didn't hesitate. Leaping, spinning, gliding, every detail was so precise that it seemed like he was fighting against fate, as if he was using his body to declare to the past: I can do this.
Her tears suddenly welled up at the moment when he completed his last spin, raised his right hand and clenched his fist.
There was no crying, no sobbing. Tears just streamed down her face, like a silent collapse. She didn't even have time to wipe them away, only to clap her hands furiously—the sound of palms colliding was crisp and resounding, as if for him, but also for the history finally being rewritten.
In the center of the ice, Yuzuru Hanyu slowly brought his clenched fist to his chest, as if to bottle up all the pent-up emotions of the past few minutes. He tilted his head back, a tired yet relieved smile curving his lips, as if solemnly saying, "Goodbye," to the long past.
At this moment, Suginohara Raku at the control console quietly turned his back.
She didn't speak or move. She simply put her hands in her coat pockets, and her shoulders trembled slightly. The wind from the scene blew through the high vents, causing a few strands of hair to sway slightly around her ears, obscuring her expression.
"The first half is over, 40 minutes of rest."
Teacher Mikiko spoke softly, her tone so gentle as if she was afraid to disturb the emotional upheaval that had just ended. She turned around and looked at Le, who was still motionless beside her. "Le-chan, do you want to go see Hanyu-kun?"
The lights gradually came on, and the audience began to murmur, as if awakening from a dream of collective silence. But the corner behind the stage remained immersed in its own silence.
"It's okay. Xiaojie is backstage and Aunt Yumi is here too. He should be fine."
Le whispered, her tone so steady that one could almost mistakenly believe she wasn't worried, "Let's confirm the procedures for the second half."
As she spoke, she lowered her head to adjust the laptop screen in front of her, her fingers steadily clicking to switch screens. But the slightly lowered profile and the dried black eyeliner at the corner of her eye still gave something away.
Teacher Mikiko looked at her and sighed softly.
She was clearly extremely worried. She was clearly holding the communicator tightly before the show started, repeatedly checking whether he had taken his medicine and warmed up properly. She clearly ran back to the center console breathlessly until the last three minutes before the lights came on, but now she is so calm that it is almost scary.
"If you can't help it, just throw away the headset."
Mikiko said nonchalantly, her eyes never leaving the timeline in front of her, "I'm here."
The tone sounded casual, like someone talking to themselves on a computer. If Le hadn't been standing close enough, he would have thought he'd misheard.
"...Thank you, Mikiko-sensei."
Le replied softly, her eyes not moving. She didn't admit that she couldn't help herself, but she didn't deny it either.
However, a battle-hardened director was not someone that could be easily fooled. She was as steady as a rock, but her heartbeat had already been seen through.
The second half of the show was like a meticulously executed ritual, moving incrementally toward the finish line. Just as the final act of the main performance was complete, and the closing music hadn't yet completely faded, the familiar sound of the elevator machinery whirred through the headset.
Then came Yuzuru Hanyu's voice. A tearful whisper, one sentence at a time, came through intermittently.
"You did it... well done... you really... tried hard..."
As if he had finally dropped all his disguise, he gasped and cried, hugging himself tightly as he cried. Those words, like the self-consolation he had said thousands of times in the lonely night, finally found their way out.
The audience's applause traveled through the venue into the earphones, the low hum of the backstage machines became the background sound, and the broken crying voice dripped into Le's heart, each drop seemed to be dripping on her chest, burning her so much that she almost couldn't breathe.
She finally reached out and took off the headset.
"Mikiko-sensei, I'll leave Harukai in your care."
Her voice was slightly choked, but she managed to remain steady. Without waiting for a response, she stood up, walked around the console, and quickly ran backstage.
The Tokyo Dome is really huge, almost ridiculously huge.
Especially after the show started, complex traffic flow control was implemented for the safety of the audience. The road from the center console to the backstage suddenly became extremely long, as if one had to cross the entire city.
Le practically jogged backstage, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. She couldn't remember the last time she'd run so hard.
She heard it—the music designed specifically for Yuzuru Hanyu's costume change had come to an end.
But she hasn't arrived yet.
Her pace finally slowed down.
The icy air was like a sharp knife, cutting through her nose and lungs. She took a deep breath and put her hand on her heart, feeling it still beating violently from the previous sprint.
Sure enough, she still doesn't like running.
Especially such a cold, endless run.
She stood at the end of the aisle, took a break, leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes.
Although the headset was taken off, the echo in the background was too clear - Yuzuru Hanyu's voice still penetrated the space and came one word at a time.
"What do you think of Gift? I've really tried my best... There's an encore later, please allow me to perform for you all a little longer."
His tone held a familiar childishness and his usual seriousness, he was laughing but also trying to control the edge of his emotions.
"First of all, I would like to thank everyone from the Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra who is here on stage. Please give them a round of applause!"
Le listened to his voice and walked backstage step by step. She knew that he was trying hard to hold on to this night alone.
"And, and..." On the stage, Mr. Takesong took the microphone and imitated Yuzuru Hanyu's tone, "And to Yuzuru Hanyu who has been skating hard today, please give him another round of applause!"
She heard his laughter explode at the scene, a bit of embarrassment from being poked, but also the shyness of a child being teased. The laughter echoed at the end of the corridor, and she couldn't help but smile softly, but a sour look flashed in the corners of her eyes.
"And to the directing team, led by Mikiko-sensei and Director Suginohara, and all the behind-the-scenes staff, this show was made possible thanks to them. Thank you so much!"
At that moment, she heard her name.
On the ice, under everyone's gaze, he deliberately left a few seconds of pause before saying "thank you everyone." The words "thank you everyone" seemed to be struggling to be squeezed out from his throat.
She couldn't hold it in any longer, so she squatted on the steps in the passage and let her tears slide silently down.
Elsewhere backstage, the music slowly transitioned into "Gift," composed by Take Satoshi. Yuzuru Hanyu stood behind a curtain, his arms rhythmically clapping themselves—he needed to maintain body heat; he couldn't let his muscles cool.
But the past scenes of preparation, rehearsal, argument, and perseverance still surfaced at an inopportune time. The light in front of him flickered, and tears blurred his vision. He gritted his teeth and blinked hard, forcing himself to stop crying, but tears still fell uncontrollably on the cold floor.
The staff felt sorry for him but didn't dare to get close.
The prelude to "Spring Comes" played softly, and a pink light filtered through the curtains, smearing the backstage area. Yuzuru Hanyu took a deep breath and prepared to take the stage, but suddenly saw someone standing at the end of the bright light.
He was slightly stunned, not daring to believe what he saw was real, until she walked in front of him, her eyebrows and eyes outlined softly by the light.
"Come on, it's the last two performances." Le reached out to help him straighten his messy hair. "Chunlai, keep up the good work. I'll be waiting for you here. You have to live up to the scenes I designed."
"Yeah." He responded softly, resting his forehead against hers: "Wait for me."
On stage, the prelude to "Spring Comes" reached its climax. He turned and walked out of the curtain, his emotions surging, but the moment he stepped onto the ice, he remained calm. As usual, he nodded calmly to the orchestra, facing the light, and ran for the final encore.
"Why are you here?" Morimoto Kosuke looked at Le who suddenly appeared in the backstage with a surprised look on his face, "Didn't you say you would stick to—"
"Shh." Le didn't turn around, but just interrupted him gently, his eyes always fixed on the figure on the surveillance screen.
He was still skating. Every move was so familiar, that coat, that set of steps, almost exactly the same as the one in 2018.
She stared blankly at the figure under the light, as if she saw again the young man who was full of energy on the field and shouting "win" on the ice.
But today, he wasn't skating for victory or defeat. He was skating in the center of the stage, letting loose.
"It's great to like skating!" As he stood on the ice and shouted this, his eyes suddenly became hot with joy.
The performance ended to applause. Yuzuru Hanyu gently turned, his gaze tracing the crowd, lights, and curtains. Amidst the interplay of light and shadow backstage, he spotted her waiting there.
She stood there, her eyes red and the mask covering most of her face, but he could see clearly the unreserved pride in her eyes.
"I did it!" He raised his fist high like a child who had received a certificate, his eyes filled with joy and pride.
This time, Le didn't raise her fist with him, she just opened her arms.
He was stunned for a second, then quickly stepped forward and threw himself into her arms.
"Thanks for your hard work... It's really amazing." She said softly, stroking her palm over his sweaty back, her voice trembling slightly, as if she was putting down a gentle anchor for all the past efforts, pain, and beliefs.
He held her tightly, trembling gently in the crook of her neck.
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