Black And Blue
With every kick, he flies.
Higher and higher, whirling into the great black nothingness above.
"Turn!"
And turn he does, hurtling back to earth, landing abruptly on his feet. They swell beneath him, tender and throbbing on the cold rubber mat.
"Sit, rest," says Sensei Chozen, but he refuses, circling to meet his teacher again.
"Feel better?"
The wings on his shoulder blades are wet, ink stretched thin beneath a litany of bruises. Before him, his teacher's eyes gentle like sun on summer waters.
"Yes," says Hawk, and in his ears, there echoes the roar of the blue blue sea.