[center][color=orange][h2]Maema Nisshoku[/h2][/color]
[sub]Remaining composed… Where’s the Boom![/sub][/center]

[indent][indent] Maema, believe it or not, had an itching feeling that Akumako wouldn’t take kindly to Roga’s belittlement; like the pre-teen she acted like, she wouldn’t enjoy being looked down upon. When the table was launched up a [b]bang[/b] of heat, dark smoke, and embers spluttered to the dull floor around them. He hid a wicked smirk in the blur of motion. The little girl had a certain flare that spoke to him. To be frank, though it was but a inkling of intuition, he believed he had felt a certain like towards the group already. 

Maema stifled a smile as he held his arm over his head to block the messy downpour. Akumako went on about her own capabilities and Roga started on about how he could spearhead the operation. Maema, who now stood with his hand tucked in his splatter trousers, rubbed the back of his hair with uncertainty. While he had already developed a rather unpleasant idea of Akumako’s leadership skills, their was a kind of reassurance when she got serious. A feeling that he could depend on her strength. 

While Roga had declared his own background, his clan being the perpetual underdog it was, Maema had remained--visually bored. Sitting in a empty seat facing the once-upon-a-table; Maema suddenly spoke up. [color=red][b] “No hard feelings, Roga, but I'd like to have all my eggs in a basket before making a decision. Quite frankly I think the Commander has put Little Bull in charge for a reason, if none other than to supervise us. She seems to be able to retain knowledge, I think we should give her a chance to speak on her own prowess.”[/b][/color][/indent][/indent]