[center][h1]Nakajima Ageha[/h1][/center]

Sometimes, life was a bad joke. Like the idea of pushing your one and only hope of relevance so far past the breaking point that she decided to abandon all ties with you instead. Or, more pertinently, right now. When it turned out the strongest man in Soul Society and the head of the military was evidently an alcoholic buffoon. And a slob. Charming.

Ageha resisted the deep urge to react in any way, her expression stony as the speech ended and the crowd began to disperse around the festival. She could spy Abiko, from the academy, giving her a brief wave off from a distance away. A curt nod of acknowledgement was given in response, though her lip curled in slight distaste at his choice in company. Nonetheless, she continued on, her goal in mind.

There were other squads she didn't have a problem with joining. The Second and the Ninth wouldn't be objectionable. But if Ageha had a choice? She wanted the Eleventh. Frontline combat appealed to her. And so did the squad's culture. Live by the sword, die by the sword. There was a problem? You settled it through strength and skill. The cantankerous spirit of her Zanpakuto rumbled agreement at the notion, and Ageha swiftly tracked down the masked man serving as this generation's Kenpachi.

[b]"Captain Kenpachi,"[/b] Ageha snapped up into a crisp military salute. [b]"Ageha, Squad Ten."[/b] No need to muddy the waters by bringing her noble family name into this. [b]"I'll get to the point: what are you looking for in those who join the Eleventh?"[/b]