They matched each other. Arthur's boxing found spaces in Kai's guard; Kai's karate found openings when Arthur's shoulders were mid-shift. When Arthur threw a combo, Kai met it with angled steps, parries, and a kick that cut space and momentum.
When Kai pushed with a shin or a spinning strike, Arthur absorbed it into his guard and cracked back with a punch that made the air go thin around the other man's ribs.
It wasn't just technique. It was two monsters who had decided emotions were a weakness and then used that decision to sharpen themselves. But underneath that blankness was a kind of joy — not the silly, laughing kind, but the deep, ancient pleasure fighters feel when the body is asked to do its honest work.
They were both smiling at times, small, almost involuntary, the way someone might smile during a terrifying cliff climb. It was respect delivered through pain.
