Japanese Table Tennis Star Tomokazu Harimoto’s Weibo Unfollow of Hina Hayata Sparks Online Feud and Revives Historical Tensions

The unfollow, however, is not a brand‑new tweet in a digital feud; it dates back to the months after the Paris Olympics and has resurfaced as netizens connect it with an earlier, highly visible dispute involving Harimoto’s younger sister, Miwa Harimoto (Zhang Ben Mei Hua). The catalyst was Miwa’s defeat to Hayata in a match that ended in tears and a pointed post‑match interview. In that interview, Miwa questioned Hayata’s use of a medical timeout, accusing her of exploiting the break to allow her coach to analyse tactics. The scene struck a chord among Chinese fans, who saw it as an unsportsmanlike tactic, and prompted Harimoto to step into the fray on his sister’s behalf.

Harimoto’s public response was unapologetically defensive. “Rules will not change because of you. You can only become stronger yourself,” he wrote, alluding to Hayata’s alleged timeout abuse. He further highlighted his own experience of leg cramps in a later match, noting that he deliberately avoided medical timeouts—a thinly veiled jab at Hayata’s earlier actions. Shortly after, the swipe on Hayata’s Weibo profile appeared, an act that many observers interpreted as a symbolic boycott rather than a mere digital etiquette slip.

Social‑media reactions have been mixed. A sizable contingent found humor in the one‑sided unfollow, noting the irony that Hayata continues to follow both Harimoto and Miwa, while the brothers’ profiles lack the reciprocal follow. “It’s like a teenager’s revenge,” wrote one user, laughing at the petty yet public nature of the gesture.

Yet beneath the jokes, a more serious undercurrent has emerged. Critics argue that Harimoto’s grievances are part of a pattern of public disputes that have plagued his career. Over the past year, he has been involved in controversies ranging from questioning the T‑League’s regulations to a public accusation that veteran coach Wang Hao had disrespected him. Some commenters, weary of the constant drama, have urged Harimoto to “focus on his game instead of fighting on social media.” A recurring theme is the perception that Harimoto, coming from a family with deep roots in Japanese table‑tennis circles, acts with an inflated sense of importance, as one netizen bluntly put it: “He thinks he can dictate how the sport should be run.”

The broader backdrop to these feuds is steeped in historical sensitivities that heighten the stakes of any perceived misstep. Harimoto and Hayata have each become entangled in separate controversies touching on Japan’s wartime past—issues that remain raw in Chinese public discourse. In early 2023, Harimoto and teammate Kasumi Ishikawa visited the Togo Shrine, a site dedicated to Admiral Togo Heihachiro, a figure celebrated for Japan’s victories in the First Sino‑Japanese War and the Russo‑Japanese War. The visit provoked an outcry among Chinese netizens, who viewed it as glorifying a militaristic past. Harimoto later issued a public apology, attempting to quell the backlash.

Hayata’s controversy is similarly charged. She expressed a desire to visit the “Kamikaze Special Attackers’資料館,” a museum that houses artifacts related to Japan’s World War II kamikaze pilots. The comment was interpreted in China as an endorsement of a painful chapter of wartime history, leading to the removal of her profile from Chinese state‑run media platforms such as CCTV.

These historical flashpoints have amplified the social‑media drama. The unfollow, while a relatively minor gesture, serves as a tangible marker of the discord that arises when athletes from the two nations intersect on the world stage, especially in a sport where Japan and China have long battled for supremacy. Chinese fans, who closely monitor the conduct of Japanese athletes, have used the unfollow as a litmus test for alignment with national sentiment, while Japanese observers have been more inclined to treat it as a personal squabble.

In the end, the episode underscores a growing fatigue among certain segments of the internet audience. Many acknowledge Harimoto’s protective instinct toward his sister, yet they also question whether such public posturing serves the sport or merely fuels a cycle of controversy. As the conversation continues to ripple through Weibo, Twitter, and the broader table‑tennis community, the unfollow remains a footnote in a larger narrative—a reminder that in the age of instant digital communication, even a single click can reignite historic tensions and personal rivalries alike.