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His eyes, devout and intent, fix on mine. His posture remains statue still, as if a wading bird about to spear its prey. He doesn’t even blink, for that might be a distraction.
I stare back, searching into a soul I know nothing about, yet here we stand, two fist-clenched strangers about to battle. Or are we? Sure, I could be taken out with one kick, but contrary to my naïve belief, karate is not about fighting. It’s about discipline and harmony.
During the Ryukyu Kingdom era, karate…
