FIRST: My TMNT fans, you are being so great to hang in there, while I take a breather from my story arch in that fandom. I just needed a taste of something different, but I WILL get back on track soon! I swear on a double pepperoni, stuffed-crust pizza!

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So, I've been obsessed with Karneval since the first episode! I don't know how I will live until September, when Volume 8 becomes available in the US. Anyway, throughout it all, one constant thing's been bugging me... WHO ARE GAREKI'S PARENTS!?

Raise your hands if you agree with me. We don't know anything before the slave ship that Gareki was on, where he was originally from, heck, we don't even know his real name! Tsubaki gave him the name 'Garkei', remember? (Not that I disagree with her choice.)
Well, I finally can't stand it anymore and have developed my own little theory. It's for fun, I don't known the mystical writings of Karneval, and I REALLLY hope that Touya Mikanagi lays some of my questions to rest in the next few volumes! She can completely disprove my theory for all I care. In this case, IGNORANCE IS NOT BLISS!

Hisa (Hee-sah) - Enduring, sustaining

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So many rooms and no end of the work in sight... bedsheets, windowpanes, dresser tops, and the rugs. Yes, the rugs were the hardest to maintain.

"Hisa." Kohana touched at her friend's shoulder, the evil vaccumm itself strung over her shoulder. "Come now, pick up that chin. I already promised to help you out on this floor today."

Hisa nodded. "And I'm so grateful. Really, I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You complaining about the work to be done? That's just due course for you." Kohana laughed with a toss of her head, her velvet brown hair bounding from beneath her bonnet. It was custom for all the ladies of the staff to wear them, but Hisa found hers so annoying and itchy, she often went without it. She kept her own midnight hair back in a braid that the bonnet couldn't hide anyway. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she liked the way it made her dark-blue eyes stand out. She tended to be stand-offish about dressing up and making a fuss over her looks. She didn't see what the big deal was, when she and Kohana needed to wear uniforms six days out of the week.

Kohana was right of course. She gripped about the work daily, cleaning the opulent houses of the fabulous and wealthy. The 'other worlders' she often called them in her head. The ones who live in the world, yet never have a clue of the lives in the world. Nonetheless, even they needed their nooks and crannies cleaned.

"Now then," Kohana broke Hisa from her thoughts as she kicked open the first door of the hallway. "It's nearly ten and we've not dusted a single wooden surface! Inexcusable!"

Hisa managed a grin and followed her friend in to the den area. As always, she went to the gaping, smoke-streaked fireplace to scrape up the ash and dust out the flue. Overturning the flaky heap, the residue fumes rushed her nose... and upheaveled her stomach. There was no time to question it; Hisa gave a sudden lurch to the right and grabbed the ash tin in time to dump the contents of her breakfast.

"Hisa!" Kohana was at her side in an instant, catching the wisps of her hair. "Mercy... there, there... well, I guess we know now why you're been grumpier then usual."

In sickness and in health she dosen't shut up! Hisa moaned- somewhat fondly- and pushed the tin aside to catch her breath. "I'm... not grumpy."

"Pessimistic then." Kohana leaned her back, gentle hands on her shoulders.

"Realistic." Hisa gathered her legs underneath her. "I need to clean this up before someone comes by."

"You need to go home." Kohana's hand went under Hisa's bangs, checking her temperature. Hisa looked up, caught her friend's hazel-green eyes. How they glowed with hope, determination, and laughter. Kohana passed that glow to everyone that came in contact with her. They both considered it a slap to their employer's faces, who assumed their 'function' didn't allot for happiness.

Will she be happy for me now? Hisa flattened a palm to her stomach. I'm not sure if I am.

"I don't need to go home." Hisa shook Kohana's hand off of her forehead. "I'm not sick."

Kohana's eyes narrowed at her. "YEEEESSS, you are! Let me worry about this floor and you-"

Hisa turned with the ash tin, toward the door. "I'm pregnant, Kohana."

Her friend's silence sounded louder then any of her usual frantic tones.

You can relax because I'm not stopping there!