He lunged. A massive front kick to the chest. Kenji couldn’t dodge. He crossed his forearms and took it.
By the ten-minute mark, Kenji’s ribs were cracked (three of them). His left eyebrow was split open, blood flooding his vision. His right hand was broken from a blocked punch. Goro was bleeding from a cut above his eye, and his left arm hung at a wrong angle—Kenji had snapped his ulna with a downward axe kick. Buchikome High kick- -Final- -Aokumashii-
Goro’s foot began its descent.
Kenji stood over Goro’s body, his own shadow pooling like spilled ink. He was weeping. Not from joy. Not from grief. From the sheer, unbearable weight of having ended something. He lunged
He answered with his own weapon: the Buchikome High Kick —a jumping, 360-degree roundhouse aimed at the temple. Goro raised an arm. The kick connected with his forearm instead. The sound was a gunshot. Goro’s arm went numb. He grinned. He crossed his forearms and took it
"You're not your sister," Goro said, spitting blood. "She was elegant. A dancer. You're just a hammer. And hammers break."