The Pursuit of Perfection

Returning from his sojourn below a world, Akuma looked out upon his island home with eyes that showed no hint of the weariness he felt; climbing under a world was quite a test of his stamina, after all. Yet he could feel the ki of his woman, that of his child... and another? Seemed vaguely familiar, too.

So, the child came for instruction after all.

It was rare enough for someone to take Akuma at his word that he was actually somewhat surprised at this turn of events, yet the offer was made sincerely enough. Besides, it wasn't as if she was a complete novice, needing her hand held through every faltering beginner's step. It might well be worth seeing what came of this, yes.

So it was that the demon began to stride down the hillside, heading for the dwelling that housed all the folk he felt. No delay would be permitted, no time to rest considered for the merest moment; she came to learn from a legendary demon, and could not be permitted to see any weakness in the master she chose.

Akuma blurred through the portals linking world to world, fetish-clad new protege over his shoulder as he went. Never stopping for anything in his way, he even passed through the earth itself if necessary... but still, it was less than seven minutes between start and finish, where the demon put his burden down.

Demon and woman stood atop a green hillside o'erlooking a blasted valley, bare of life yet filled with bodies... Wooden bodies, lacking in arms and legs yet standing in profusion along every ridge. And at the head, a goodly-sized dojo of classic Japanese construction... And now Akuma might actually have a very odd expression on his face. Was he... did he actually smile!?

Honestly. What better use of being flung back in time than to see long-lost family?

And Goutetsu was lost so very long ago...

Leaving the pile of impertinent Army rabble behind, Akuma flew up half-remembered slopes, feet barely seeming to touch ground. Every step awoke another shock of déjà vu, just this run in just this place so many years ago, as he turned his head and half-expected to see his brother breaking ahead-

No. I left him behind decades ago.

..Well, technically, decades to come, but time travel nonsense can just be ignored.

Right up until he sees the old dojo, and two young boys being taught outside.

One, with hair like fire as he struggled to master the katas taught him with furious intensity, mistaking and correcting and grinding forms into his stubborn body until they came as second nature. He had talent, yes...

But it was clear the older boy, brown-mulleted and clever, was far ahead in that resource. The techniques seemed to come second nature to him, practice only imparting further sheen to moves that seemed polished from their first effort. He worked hard, yes, but his inborn ability buoyed him upward; by the admiration in the younger boy's face, it was clear who took the lead.

The little girl on the dojo steps didn't have eyes on him, though.

Seeing the tableau from the outside for once left Akuma suddenly shaken. To see his brother shining in the leaf-dappled sun was as a punch to the heart, the master's daughter alive and even now staring so made him feel liked he'd been kicked by a rhinoceros... And then he saw his master, and it all seemed to slip away.

Not the the same as he'd always remembered, no. Years younger and a headwrap lighter, a hard man with a crooked beak of a nose and piercing eagle eyes. Overseeing the children's practice with a stern hand, he remained patient through debacles and never missed -or forgave- a slip. A hard man... yet one who had a gentle smile for his daughter, and words of encouragement for the boys as he gestured them inside.

And then turned, looking Akuma directly in the eyes.

Akuma, rocked back in surprise, still managed to be amused at his own reaction. Yes, it's been decades since anyone has spotted me when I didn't wish it. So what? This is he who TAUGHT me. Coming forward through the three crimson Shinto gates, he strode to the other man, moving lithely with an almost insolent stride...

Right before kneeling at Goutetsu's feet. "Master."

Looks like Akuma can give the old man a shock too.



-Some Time Later-



The two old warriors laughed, sharing tea as they caught up. Both were amazed at the parallels to be drawn from their respective wanderings; Goutetsu seemed to be able to adapt to the concept of time travel well enough, and was enjoying Gouki's recounting of some of the challenges he'd overcome. Akuma, in turn, was AMAZED to hear some of the stories his master had thought to spare from younger ears; the circumstances of his fighting Li Shuwen and how he began a rivalry with Oro were no less than astounding!

"WHAT? That scoundrel makes it THAT long!?" Goutetsu nearly spluttered in shock. I knew his kenjutsu was a powerful style, but still!"

Akuma actually smiled, easy as breathing. "Be at ease, Master. Your ansatsuken has proven to be fully a match; I did forge ahead as he rested on his laurels. Still, it is a privilege to know that I face one of your old opponents."

Goutetsu chuckled, clapping his old student on the back. "I always felt you had the seed of greatness, Gouki. Still, what happened to your brother? And my daughter, Sayaka? I wish to know all!"

"..." Shaking his head, he looked over at his mentor with a look of utter seriousness. "One of the many, many things I have learned, Master, is that knowing too much of the future can change the past, and cause untold catastrophe. So please, do not press for details when I tell you that Gouken becomes a mighty warrior, with two strong disciples of his own. And Sayaka..." He breaks off for a moment, large hand coming to cover his face. "Our child is strong, and I have never stopped loving her."

Wordlessly, Goutetsu reached over, patting him on the back in commiseration, just above that redly glowing kanji. The same mark that two boys can't seem to stop staring at from a distance... one in revulsion, one in fascination.

Half a mile out from the seaward beach of Gokuentou, Akuma sat. The low tide lapped around the base of his seat of glass, every splashing wave rising just a little bit higher; the hungry sea would soon consume it all over again.

It had taken him the better part of an afternoon to make, the little sandspire that held him up. Fusing sand together underwater was no simple matter, but Akuma had breath to spare and was willing to take the time to get it right. For the purpose at hand, it was ideal, and he always had plenty of fire to spare. Fire...


"I am everywhere there is fire." So spoke the smith-god, and Akuma learned the truth of it the hard way... as the thrice-cursed cuffs around wrist and ankle constantly attested. Yet for a creature whose mastery came from a lifetime of fanning the flames of his soul, the inferno of his ki, this gave his divine opposition an unstoppable advantage. You don't try electrocuting Zeus, you don't try to drown Poseidon, and you just don't burn Hephaistos... Which meant another way had to be tried.

Still in a light meditative trance, he began another attempt. He might've used a more traditional mantra, but something about this one just felt right... And as anything can be pressed into such service, why limit yourself by tradition?

"Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
With what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire..."

Upon the last word, his aura suddenly swelled outward, expanding to some thirty feet of flames all around him. The waters in the way vaporized, a cloud of live steam billowing upwards as the sea kept trying to fill the gap created...

"...but if it had to end twice,
I believe I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice"

And with that enunciation his ki collapsed upon itself, as Akuma attempted once more to invert its expression... and once more failed completely.

"...Is also great...
And would suffice."

He'd be sighing later, but now came the contemplation of the why. Why did it continue to elude him? Where was his mistake? What did he fail to grasp?

Ever since he returned from Aetna, he'd been working on this. Every day he wasn't working at the mountain he set aside time to experiment on a change; failure? Failure just meant you had to try harder.

Akuma came out of the Nexus with his face in hand-literally. That time on the island had apparently ended in his killer cutting his face off and wearing it as a mask!

..And apparently, what one wore when they died was what they wore upon their return. Which meant that not only did HIS killer have such a mask, but so did his killer's killer. One of these, at least, had just been retrieved.

He wanted on his isle now, to take a good look at this thing. And since he kept his portal a good thirty miles inland from his home and didn't hold with those PINpoint thingies, it was time to run!

Sprinting away at perhaps a mile a minute (The first two miles in the wrong direction, just in case of pursuit), it took him a little over half an hour to arrive. Going to his dojo just before the training plain, he sat and.. looked at himself.

Damn, he really is ugly, isn't he?

Still, more importantly. When he tried to burn it with his ki in the Nexus, not only did it fail to ignite, it seemed stronger. More durable, farther from decay.

Was it possible that he could not hurt himself that way? Let's try it again.. YES! Apparently, Akuma's energy cannot harm Akuma! Further, just as the internal flows of his ki keep his body strong, so too is that which was part of him but is no longer. Its strength was enhanced by having his power projected into it!

While this is all fascinating and perhaps someday useful, the mask remained.. and that was intolerable. How about an indirect approach..? Igniting one of the wooden dummies, he let it burn on its own for a time before throwing the Akumask on top. The sound of sizzling flesh came back, and Akuma smiled to himself; NO-ONE shall have trophies made from ME.

Now, for the big blue robot-thing.

It was the middle of the night, and Akuma was hunting.

Cheerios? Hamburgers? HAH! Pathetically weak! If you cannot feed yourself then you may as well be dead on your feet!

Also, if you don't hunt and grow your own food you have to rely on civilization to help.. And not only does Akuma have contempt for civilization, relying on ANYONE else for your survival is a sure route to disaster. They have power over you, a club over your head.. And nobody will EVER have that over Akuma. (Or so he thinks!)

Besides, Shiranui was going to visit in awhile; he wanted to whip up something extra special. All of this is why he's stalking that bear!

Creep, creep, creep.. All too soon he would be rady for the final spring, chop a hand through its neck before it even had time to react. Okay, gather yourself up for that last jump, andGONE.

...Okay, there's now an Akuma-shaped hole in this picture. WTF just happened?

When Shiranui laid down her ultimatum, something just.. cracked inside Akuma. The one woman -the one PERSON- he'd actually allowed himself to care about other than a mild interest in half a lifetime, the woman he had given his heart to..

And she ground it beneath her heel and spat in his face.

He never even thought of stopping her as she left with the random other woman; his back was already turned and he was on his way before they had even left the stage. Numbing shock seemed to coat everything in a soft fuzz, as his feet took him he-knew-not-where, following a subconscious urge to be alone.

The blizzard had been lashing at the slopes of Mt. Everest for a good two weeks by now; the would-be-climbers had either given up or frozen long ago. Akuma, his every step melting footprints through ice where he walked, fingers driving into solid stone as he climbed, paid as little attention to elevation and weather as he did to all that he crossed on his trek. Relentlessly moving onwards, he reached the peak in record time.. And at the loneliest place in the world, he finally allowed himself to feel.


"RRRHHEEEEIIIEEEAAAAAHHHH!!!"


And then, a *BOOM* shook the mountainscape. Everest, the highest reach that man had ever managed to scale, shivered from base to peak.. and in a jolt recorded as off-the-scale on every seismometer in central Asia, it just blew apart in a colossal magenta flare.

Less than an hour later later, the closest rock-spire suffered a similar fate, caving in from a vast strike nearly halfway up its side.. and a figure wreathed in a crackling purple aura and crowned with bone-white hair sped away, on to the next.

For forty-two years, Akuma had always kept himself in check. The relentless destructive urge of the Dark Hadou had pushed at him, waking and sleeping, to simply rip and smash and crush everything he saw.. But Akuma had mastered it! Forced it to heel like a tamed dog, freed only when and to the EXACT degree he permitted it! From instant to instant over the long span of his life, Akuma was always in control of himself, to a degree even the great warriors of the world could hardly suspect..

And now it was all coming loose. A lifetime of suppression backlashing upon him, the only thing that was real to Akuma was pure, raging, insane hatred the likes of which would make the Devil himself step back! The smashing, the tortured scream of rending stone and the crash of rubble where once had stood the immutable pillars of the Earth, that was all that mattered, as he was mastered by the very force he had embraced and there found power he never imagined..

A pall fell over the world, people in every country fearing without knowing the cause, as the glowing mark on Akuma's back gradually changed to the kanji for 'Destruction.'