A/N: I do not own anything about D. Gray-man. This story is based soley on a fictional timeline after the anime's completion.
Opening the parcel after picking it and herself up off the ground, Taylor felt warm leather inside. Confused she pulled out an eye patch with intricately etched letterings. As she sat fingering those letters thoughtfully it felt like the situation had not come up, she was still in her little hotel room getting ready to sing. That's what she wanted. Not this debacle. The wizened old man was watching her still, a contemplative expression on his face.
The gentleman with the stripped hair was eyeing her cautiously as if she scared him. Sometimes his eyes would dart to one Exorcist or another, looking for help in his fearful state. The rest had slightly confused looks all around. Even her blur had adapted to the mood where once he had been happy seeming. And so Taylor crouched in shadows near a warehouse door in the alley everything had transpired in more frightened then the gentleman was, but too afraid to show it.
The memory of six Exorcists fighting the Akuma before them, their movements precise, graceful, frightening and pure, caused her to dwell in that terror. They fought like the Akuma they were trying to destroy.
The remembrance that her master had been a Noah, something that seemed frightening enough, and could shift her appearance into whatever she chose recalled to her how lucky she was that nothing further then whippings had marked her flesh. The slight shiver she felt course through her body brought attention from the younger white haired boy amongst the group of them.
Allen had been watching the girl from the corner of his eye, confused, cautious and concerned. Not that he was worried for himself or his group of friends. He worried for the pure throated girl. She looked terrified and uncomfortable.
Walking over to her without a clear plan on how to ease her tension, the boy with the cursed, Akuma sensing eye squatted down and held out his hand.
She stared at it, retreating further into the shadows. "It's ok; just don't retreat any further, please. There is only darkness there." He smiled his concern and it genuinely reached his eyes. That alone made her feel a little better.
"Who are you people?" She could have cursed out loud for the tremble in her voice.
"We are Exorcists."
But she took in the black, silver trimmed coats and wondered "Who are you really, like beyond Exorcists, being an Exorcist is a calling not a definition."
"Well," the boy temporized. "It's hard to describe a person so suddenly right?" When she nodded the teen continued. "We'll start like this." And he held his hand out again. "I'm Allen Walker. Here come with me. We don't bite...well...Krory does, but not people."
"You mean the vampire?"
"I am not!" the man said from a ways ahead. "Only one person was allowed to call me a Vampire, and she is dead. Eliade..." His voice became so mournful that Taylor couldn't bring herself to ask for more information. She would have liked to know.
So his name is Krory.
The girl of the group came up to her, kneeling to look the singer in the eye. "Come on come meet people!" Her insistence along with the tugging she applied to Taylor's arm brought the always lonely girl to her feet. "My name is Lenalee Lee. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise, I'm..." But before she could finish Lenalee had dragged her over to the beautiful swordsman leaning against the brick of some family's home.
"This is Kanda. Please, just call him Kanda." Kanda look at her with his lip curled a bit, but more into a smirk then actual disgust. He didn't offer her his hand, so she didn't extend hers either.
"Hey." Was his only response.
"Don't worry!" The voice from the blurred man, who as now crystal clear was cheerfully playful as he also leaned against the house wall, hands behind his head. "That's about as welcoming as Yuu gets."
"Yuu?" Looking back to the swordsman, she was surprised to see a twitch and snarl marring his good looks. Don't call him that I guess.
Lenalee moved in front of the swords man, a placating hand on his arm. "Not now, L..."
"My name is..."
"Ca..." Taylor began to answer, but the man cut her off.
"Lavi." He fell back into a look of confusion, looking back to the kohl rimmed eyes of the older man.
"I must have confused you with..."
"No," Bookman said near a barrel of fish. "Just the wrong name."
"You wouldn't even throw me a bone on this one and now you tell her all these..."
Not now. Bookman thought to his apprentice.
Taylor struggled to take it all in. They seem friendly enough. She found herself thinking as she cycled through each person and their names.
Beautiful swordsman, temperamental and barely tolerant: Kanda.
Girl with spunk and kindness: Lenalee.
Easily scared and somehow sad: Krory.
Young but powerful, friendly but kind of dark: Allen.
Cryptic and calculative: Not introduced?
Sad and confused, but hinting at something much different: ...Lavi.
Why did I think his name was...?
"I don't think we had a moment to be introduced." The old man had walked over to her and interrupted her thoughts like he knew their train. They are hiding something, this man and the blur. "I have had many names, but please call me Bookman."
Something stirred then, awakening another beast of a memory, blacking her out to recall.
The sound of two collapsing bodies startled the group of Exorcists. "What in the name of..."
"It's started."
It was dark, the landscape of her dreams. The stars of countless possibilities and hopes replaced by a single nearly full moon, dull and lifeless. The sheaves of wheat slowly turned to dust, those stalks with all the memories written like prayers disappearing. What the..?
The pattern of this world broke into thousands of fragments, the differences lacerating her with the sharded remnants. And against pattern she ran, not knowing where she was, where she was going. The bland, never changing scenery fading in and out to the flow of her blinding tears filled with fear and confusion.
He had been here before. That feeling overwhelmed him, twisted into him. It marked his very being, his soul. There was a star laden sky so full that it could almost be a darkened daylight. All about scattered sproutlings of wheat, growing rapidly in the night. Paper wheat with small writings, memories springing up, trying to enter his mind. But as he bent to read one, the words phased, became blurry and illegible.
Confused he strode into the still growing field of paper wheat.
Striding further and further along, something changed in the mindlessly identical plot of dream land. A large paper tree stood atop a hill before him. He began to run to it.
Before long, she found herself winded, slowing down to pace with her near panting breath. Ahead of her, like a beacon of discord, completely irregular to her patterns stood a tree, a non-existent wind waving paper leaves to the dream ground.
With a curiosity that proved itself dangerous time and time again, she bent down and lifted a piece of discarded paper, a leaf from the many swirling towards her. Holding it timidly, half expecting the sheet to disintegrate in her trembling hands, she was surprised to read...
He slowed upon reaching the tree on the deceivingly steep hill as a single paper leaf, large and supple, floated to him from an almost top branch. He almost discarded it without thought, sure that it would be unreadable like the rest of the words here. But that leaf grew heavier as he held it, almost begging for attention, and so almost afraid he read from it...
Lost time, be reconnected by the red string that governs fate. Bring forth that which you have lost. Slow but sure...Regain time.
The Exorcists stood watch over the two crumpled bodies, unsure of what was going on or if they could help.
One after the other, at some point during their vigil, eyes flashed to the patch that had fallen from the strange girl's hand. As if their sight were drawn to it, and the golden words stitched to it. Lost Time.