The Conquerors' Begin

The rain poured from the dark clouds, drenching the large, metallic skycrapers in an ocean of water. The wind blew fiercely, shaking the very foundation of the steel pillared buildings. Lightning struck the ground, the top of the buildings, thunder roared; the heavens were awake after several months of slumber. Wearing the Amekage attire, The Commander approached the podium that was glued onto a platform. He was inside of Amegakure’s central political building, the news station. Technologically advanced, Amegakure had managed to develop tv stations where news could be watched, broadcasted from a central point to each and every citizen in the village. It was much easier for the people to access their leaders this way, which built trust between the citizens and officials.

He stood before the podium, standing in front of fifty…no, sixty news reporters who were dressed elegantly to address one man. Well, they all hoped to at least address him. Not everyone would get their questions answered, so they had fought for their positions below the platform. Each representing different news stations, the bigger stations had representatives in the upper levels while the less known stations were all the way in the back, hidden by the other reporters before them. Shichirou realized this pecking order. “I’ll answer, one question and that’s I,” Shichirou said before looking around. Today would be the day he disappointed. Pointing his finger all the way to the back, he called out a woman.

Reporters looked in awe. A blonde woman, her hair rolled backwards over a kunai as if it was a makeshift curler, with two bangs dripping down the sides of her face. A rather casual hairstyle, but that isn’t what the reporter dropped their jaws to see. She had on a black bikini, exposing her rather noticeable cleavage, overlapped by a cream-like jacket. She had spunk and Shichirou admired that. Removing something from her mouth, seemed like a piece of straw to Shichirou, she bluttered her question. “If you had one thing you would say to the storm, what would it be?” That was the question she asked. Reporters exhaled, yelling, expressing outrage before being silenced by Shichirou’s hand. “I would say, that’s a new trick,” the Chiyo man answered, smirking before exiting the stage, ignoring the massive amount of yelling and screaming that he was given.

Thirty minutes had passed since the entire reporting incident and Shichirou had changed his attire. He was sitting in the bench of the bar, watching news stations express the massive disapproval of his choice of answering one question and of choosing someone like her. They had gotten nothing important at all. He could only laugh at the occurrence. “You know, you made a lot of people angry today,” the bartender said, pouring the man another drink. Shichirou looked up at the bartender. He was bald, roughly fifty with a scratchy voice. He had been doing this for a while now. His name was Moe, the owner of the bar. “Well, moe,” Shichirou started, taking a sip of his drink midsentence, “You can’t please everyone, unless your bi..”, the man joked. “He’s returned…”