Featured / Yuzuru Hanyu is My Emergency Contact

My mom says real people can be amazing too.

…

Right, Mom.

They’ve been reeeaaal amazing so far. There’s a reason my sister’s last three boyfriends she’s never met have been a British Emo singer (who, not gonna lie, happened to make my skin crawl), a grown-up Harry Potter lookalike millionaire who would schedule speaking engagements and then bail without a word (“Avada Kedavra Credibility-o!”), and another Emo singer (this time American, who was actually starting to grow on me) but he turned out to be some kind of Satanist, so…

But I’m much more grounded. I live in the real world. I only date animated people. And I don’t mean animated “lively”. I mean animated “drawn”. My first animated crush was Tuxedo Mask from Sailor Moon. Full disclosure, my FIRST, first animated crush was Dr. Egon Spengler from the Real Ghostbusters cartoon. But I can’t explain that one to you, so…back to Tuxedo Mask. I didn’t even watch Sailor Moon. I was just infatuated with his image. I mean, he walks around in a tuxedo and a mask so much that they MADE IT HIS NAME. But it turns out Tuxedo Mask was really just a gateway drug. 

A gateway drug to *swoon* Soichiro Arima. Say it with me. So-i-chi-ro A-ri-ma. What a name. Wispy pieces of jet black hair dusting his brow. Dressed all in black except for one exacting seam of white. Perpetually polite. Painstakingly particular. Perfectly…perfect. Revered and adored by all, he’s unwaveringly kind, yet keeps to himself. Until he falls madly in love with Miyazawa. Then he still keeps to himself, but with an unyielding passion for his one true love, devoted only to her. Throw in a beautiful piano theme whenever he’s around and maybe some cherry blossoms blowing in the wind and, well…excuse me, I need to text my sister an emoji. Sadly, poor Arima’s anime, Kare Kano, only lasted one season. The manga lasted much longer, but, yikes, did it take a turn! Arima’s birth mother comes back and ruthlessly, physically abuses him. Arima’s birth father comes back and puts a gun between Arima’s eyes. Arima stabs a pen through his hand… Oh. Spoiler alert. It got to the point that when I was reading the manga with Arima the doll–we’ll get to that unique situation later–I had to keep covering his wide, bright, innocent eyes, apologizing, “I didn’t remember this part, Arima-kun.” Arima and I recently rekindled our love after a hiatus. I never truly forgot Arima. He’s always been the anime ものさし [ruler] that all other animated characters have been measured against. It was going to take someone very strong to pull me away from Soichiro and the cherry blossoms. Someone strong…

WITH THE FORCE.  

Obi-Wan Kenobi.  *swoon* Say it with me.  O-bi Wan Ken-obi. What a name. If you’re thinking about Alec Guinness or Ewan McGregor right now a) I’m sorry and b) you’re wrong. We’re talking about full-on CG Obi-Wan from the five season (plus the movie–NO, not THAT one–and the Netflix sixth season–why why why did this show end so help me) 2008-2014 Clone Wars. See, Obi-Wan came along when I was desperately in need of a hero. I could tell you why, but then things would get sad and while it would make it much more marketable and possibly a Pixar movie, I refuse to go there. You will not play future me in some sad-sap movie, Meryl Streep. My sister would tell you Obi-Wan’s a pretentious hero…or just that he’s pretentious. I would argue that he is not pretentious, he is particular. (‘Particular’ is a quality which is going to loom large here shortly.) He’s also decent. Think that’s an odd quality to be attracted to? Have we talked about how everyone I’m attracted to was birthed in the Ink & Paint Department instead of a hospital? But seriously. I defy you to find me a really, really decent human. Think about it. Having a hard time; aren’t ya? Now find me a really, really decent human with meaning behind his eyes, an irresistible accent and who routinely sports black gloves while being the universe’s only hope. Yeah. Thought so. There might also be a life-size decal of Obi on my wall and a rare maquette which cost…well… But Obi does not fall into my usual “type” (minus the whole, “Hey, I’m animated” thing). For one, he doesn’t have black hair, which is usually a major, MAJOR prerequisite for me. *ahem* Major. But the biggest deal breaker is that he has–this part hurts–a beard. Excuse me while I gag. I find nothing more deplorable than facial hair, and there’s nothing you can do to convince me otherwise. But Obi’s beard looks like it was masterfully carved from wood (drastically enhancing its cleanliness score). In fact, Obi, in general, looks like he’s carved from wood. Who knew I could fall for a nutcracker? Just call me Clara.  

After Obi came Tokyo Ghoul’s Ken Kaneki. *swoon* Say it with me. Ken Kan-e-ki. Naive bookworm who just wants to go on a date with his dream bookworm girl who turns out to be a ghoul who wants to eat his insides, so she attacks him on their first date but gets crushed by a crane and has her organs transplanted into Kaneki by a surgeon who claims “I’ll take the responsibility”.  My best friend (who wishes to remain nameless for reasons we would detail later but aren’t allowed to–we’ll call him Cactus) freaked out at this point. “What doctor would do that transplant without permission? I mean, the chick with the bug arms coming out of her back is fake, but HIPPA’s for REAL.” Anyway, Kaneki (failed by HIPAA) turns into a freak half ghoul-half human and (according to Cactus) spends the rest of the series screaming about not wanting to eat people. Might I point out that Cactus only watched two episodes? By the end of the first season, Kaneki has been kidnapped and tortured until he morphs into “Shiro [white] Kaneki” who turns out to be one of the greatest anime characters of all-time. Lots of people want desperately to make Tokyo Ghoul some kind of terrible, gruesome, horror anime with Kaneki as the twisted emo pop culture icon for bloodlust angst. I think they all must’ve watched as many episodes as Cactus. Sure, he has moments when one eye turns black and red and he takes a bite out of someone, but deep down this character is the anti-horror. Protective, introspective, humane. And man can he rock a pair of wedge boots–black, except for a couple exacting white stripes. When he covers his one ghoul eye to hide what he has become from his best friend…and then wordlessly carries same friend dead in his arms through a snowy street where all the human ghoul hunters are waiting to kill him? All the while looking down at him endearingly while his wispy white hair dusts his brow…You losers who are out for terror and bloodlust from Kaneki can kiss my ass with your zipper toothed mask (which you also misunderstand).  

So yeah. I might have a thing for animated characters. In fact, it became such a trend with me that I was beginning to think I was animogamous…until…

Baaahhhhh, Bahhhh, Bah Bahm Bahm Bahm Bahm, Bahm Bahmbahmbahm bahm bahm bahm bahbahbahm bahm BAHHHHHHM!

I was watching the 2018 Winter Olympics (sort of). I was probably multitasking, because, let’s face it, Olympics coverage isn’t what it used to be. Yes, NBC, I know you happen to be obsessed with Lindsey Vonn, but some of us would prefer to hear stories about people from other countries at this, you know, INTERNATIONAL competition. Anyway. Chances are I was working on my Star Wars novel or posting something snarky on Facebook about, you know, Lindsey Vonn, when I heard the six words that would forever change my life:

“Yuzuru Hanyu has arrived in Pyeongchang.”

Oh, I remember him, I think casually.   I look to the TV.

Oh. I. Remember. HIM.  

Suddenly it’s 2014 again. I’m watching the Sochi Winter Olympics. Who remembers that the 2014 Winter Olympics were in Sochi? Anyone? Who remembers that they were in 2014? Anyone? Yeah. Thought so. I used to say the same for myself. Now, I can write “Sochi” in Japanese. And “Olympics”. And “2014”. It’s intense. Sochi and 2014 are sacred in my current circle.  Anyway, back to 2014, Doc Brown… It’s 2014, and I’m watching men’s figure skating when onto the ice skates Yuzuru Hanyu. “Great Scott!” I think to myself (see what I did there?). “This guy is Arima on ice!” I also think to myself, “Aw. He’s probably not going to be very good.  Poor guy.” Emojis weren’t big in 2014. Or maybe they were, but I probably didn’t have an iPhone yet. You had to pry–PRY–my red Motorola Razr out of my iron (buffalo?) grip. Regardless, someone should’ve sent me a thousand laughing, hysterical crying emoji faces when I had that “Poor guy” thought. Um, did you see Yuzuru Hanyu’s short program in the 2014 Winter Olympics in ソチ? He broke the world record. That’s right. Poor guy, indeed. He went on to win the gold medal…and in the most adorable way possible. “I’m first? I’m the first?” Look it up on YouTube. Your heart will melt (or erupt depending on your emoji orientation). Well, good for you, fella. Back to Japan you go. I wonder if you’ll be back in 2018. And I wonder if I’ll remember you.

2018.  He came back.

Oh.  I. Remember.  HIM.

Yuzuru Hanyu. *swoon* Say it with me. Yu-zu-ru Ha-n-yu. What a name.

I feel I should briefly pause here and point out that my only two actual, “real people can be amazing too,” 100% unanimated boyfriends had boring, monosyllabic names. They weren’t even something cool like “Zark” or “Ka” so we’ll just refer to them as “Boy 1” and “Boy 2.” Say it with me. Boy 1. Say it with me. Boy 2. Yeah. Should’ve known those wouldn’t work out.

But back to Yu-zu-ru Ha-n-yuuuu, お願いします [please]…

The video of Yuzu’s first practice in Pyeongchang showed him skating in his usual warm-up attire, all black (including gloves) except for a few exacting seams of white. Accompanied by piano music, he moves across the ice, his wispy pieces of jet black hair dusting his brow…wait a minute. Is this a…what do they call it…human? Not to mention when he gets disappointed in himself one eye turns black and red and he stabs a pen through his hand. *gasp*

I thought you would never come…