Even after hearing Akuma's threat, Sasuke Uchiha didn't move. Seeing this, Akuma raised his hand, ready to kill him—but stopped himself. If he did, completing his mission would become far more difficult, and he wasn't about to ruin all his hard work over Sasuke.
Forcing himself to calm down, Akuma looked at the boy kneeling before him.
"Listen. I only know taijutsu. The reason I'm strong is because I train endlessly. My strength comes from hard work, nothing more. If you want real guidance, go to your sensei—he has both experience and the Sharingan. He can lead you better than I ever could."
He could tell Sasuke wouldn't be shaken off easily, so he tried to reason with him. To his surprise, it worked. Sasuke slowly stood, disappointment shadowing his face as he turned to leave.
"I don't like giving advice," Akuma said, his tone low but sharp, "but hear this. If you make revenge your goal, you'll lose what little you still have. And even if you succeed, what then? You'll die miserably, with nothing left. That's all revenge gives you."
Sasuke froze. He didn't turn around, but he listened.
"Instead," Akuma continued, "make power your goal. Become so strong that you can take your revenge whenever you choose. Take whatever you want. Protect whatever you wish. Weak people shouldn't dream of revenge—it's nothing but a fool's game."
His words carried the weight of his own past. He had chased revenge once, and though he achieved it, the price had been unbearable: his three closest friends, and even his wife. In the end, all he gained was a broken, paralyzed body left to rot in a hospital bed, waiting for death—whether by gangsters or by time itself.
Sasuke said nothing. He simply walked away in silence, his expression unreadable.
Akuma watched his back until he disappeared into the distance, a frown tightening across his face.
Why did I even bother helping him? Didn't I want to kill him just moments ago?
The thought unsettled him, but the answer came unbidden. Maybe… he reminds me of myself.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "Hah… pathetic."
Shaking his head, Akuma crushed the sentiment before it could take root. "Fucking weakness," he growled, turning back to the training post. His fists hammered into the wood with relentless rhythm, each strike an oath—to silence weakness, to bury doubt, and to forge himself into unyielding strength.
The month passed in a blur. And now, at last, the day Akuma had been waiting for arrived—the final tournament. The day he could finally stop playing the part of a child.
As usual, he was training when a voice called out."Akuma, are you not coming to watch the tournament? We'll be late. Let's go!" Might Guy shouted, his energy brimming as always.
Beside him stood Rock Lee, almost fully healed from his injuries."Guy-sensei is right! Let's go watch Neji win and become a Chunin!" Lee said with fiery enthusiasm.
Akuma shook his head. "I have something to do at the orphanage. You two go on. I'll come later."
"Very well! Then we'll leave first. Come quickly after, okay?" Guy answered, smiling before heading off with Lee toward the arena.
Once they were gone, Akuma turned toward the orphanage. Before entering, he slowly removed his ankle weights, weighted vest, and armbands—altogether more than ten times heavier than what Rock Lee normally carried. Even with all that burden, Akuma had never felt much resistance. He had considered buying even heavier ones, but their sheer size ruined his movements, and they were costly. For now, he endured with what he had.
Unburdened, he stepped inside without worrying about breaking the wooden floor. Minutes later, he emerged from his room carrying a bag of money—everything he had saved from countless odd jobs, and from what he had taken from bandits.
Walking to the donation box, he dropped the bag inside. Then he knelt down and whispered:"Thank you… for taking care of me these three years. I've given back more than forty times what you spent on me. With this, my debt is repaid."
Rising to his feet, Akuma gave one last farewell to his caretaker before heading toward the Chunin Exam tournament. The moment he stepped into the arena, the Anbu's eyes would finally turn away from him—and the true game would begin.