Story : A Touch of Color in the Grey

Book 1 : Shading the black

Date : November 25, 2017. Corrected October 5, 2021

Beta: Lyra (2017) and Lucky (2021)

Fandom : D Gray Man

Disclaimer: No, I do not own D Gray Man and I am not making any profit from this story.

Summary : Estelle wakes up in the 19th century without really knowing how. Following the movement, she finds herself working as a housekeeper for the Kamelotts. She is spotted by the hostess and becomes her companion, learning in the process that she is in DGM.

Chapter Trigger : A little blood because of a minor injury.

Chapter 2: A pencil can change evrythings

Thursday, January 8, 1885

Four days had passed since my transfer as lady-in-waiting for Tricia Kamelott. And I had to admit that it was a lot more… um… relaxing than I expected.

Tricia spent her time sleeping.

I'm not sure if it was the winter effect that was draining her strength or if she was always like that, but the new rhythm was the opposite of the last one. And left me too much time to think. And I didn't want to think. Not how I got there, or why I was there and especially not if there was a way to get back to my…

No! Change of subject, change of subject...

To summarize, Tricia woke up at 7am and her maid, Rosina Ramsey, a Portuguese in her thirties sweet and not very talkative, came to bring her breakfast in bed. Then she washed and dressed with Rosina's help while we chatted. Usually I would sit behind the screen and stumble over every word until I had a sentence in fairly decent English. Lucky for me, Tricia had the patience of a saint and loved to teach. She didn't hesitate to gently correct me while I did her hair or show me objects to teach me their names. The lesson continued in the covered greenhouse, the garden being too cold for her, where we circled the fountain indefinitely as she tested my vocabulary on the subject that came to her mind that day.

We stayed there until noon precisely, when we were brought the meal, then at one o'clock, she would come back to her room to sleep until 5 a.m. I would come back to pick her up and then we would have tea in her boudoir until 6.30am, when I accompanied her to the dining room. Of course, being an employee, I did not eat with them, instead leaving her with Sheryl, and surely the very important guest of the day, to go help in the kitchen. The evening meal usually lasted long enough that I could eat in the kitchen in a corner, avoiding the real commotion of the employees in the middle of the race, and then help Louise with the plunge. It was the kitchen maid and I quickly discovered that it was she who inherited the most thankless tasks. She was a determined-looking fourteen-year-old girl with freckled cheeks, but even all the goodwill in the world couldn't handle the hundreds of cutlery and pans on her own. When I saw her bent on her knees, a stack of plates higher than her head in her arms, even I, who hated cleaning, rolled up my sleeves to help her. Well, I had to admit that the monotonous task and the upbeat conversation helped a lot to occupy my mind and anyway, I would have felt too bad to twiddle my thumbs especially after working with them the previous week. When Eliott or Alphonse, one of the footmen taking care of the table service, warned me that supper was about to end, I cleaned my fingers with soap, tugged on my skirt and went to wait silently for Tricia in front of the dining room. As soon as the goodbyes were exchanged with the guest and her husband, I accompanied her to her room and she was asleep before eight o'clock.

And yet, this far too rhythmic schedule only held up if Tricia felt "fit" enough that day. As much to say to you that the rhythm detonated somewhat from that of before. With Tricia sleeping 15 hours a day, I didn't really know what to do with my six hours off and more often than not ended up in the company of John or Clarisse to help them in their tasks.

But oh! Miraculously, on my second day, Tricia gave me permission to borrow books from the library. Of course, no manga or fantastic novels, but we do with what we have... To my surprise, I had found all the authors whose names I knew in my world. Those already published in the 19th century anyway and this had given rise to the strange thought that, perhaps, DGM was really our past. Maybe I just wasn't aware that akumas existed in my world.

Naaaaan...

… We would have noticed, right?

Having arbitrarily decided on the fact that I was "just" in a parallel universe, I had undertaken, in a great fit of nostalgia, and in the hope of distracting myself, the task of rereading my classics. Indeed, when we had nothing else to do, the 513,000 words of Les Misérables were easily swallowed. It might have helped that I had seen a really, really bad movie adaptation that automatically resulted in parallels and mockery of the film throughout the book. In any case, I had renewed my respect for Victor Hugo. This guy was a genius. And you won't believe it, but I was so bored that I even tried to reread Pierre et Jean from Maupassant! Trying being the key word, obviously. Well, you surely didn't know about the visceral hatred I had for this book. I never thought I could ever hate a book, but my high school teacher happily proved me wrong.

During 6 months.

Anyway, I spent my mornings with Tricia in the greenhouse and my afternoons reading in the library. Sometimes, I was looking for John, Clarisse or Louise to distract me and feed our new friendships, but other than that… I might as well tell you that I didn't meet many people. I hadn't seen Tyki, Road, Earl, or even any other Noahs yet. In fact, I hadn't even seen Sheryl since he called me into his office. So I didn't really know if Road had been adopted by Sheryl and Tricia yet, in fact I didn't even know when I was in the story.

Even if I saw Road or the Count, it wouldn't help to pinpoint the time since, it looked like they didn't get older than that physically. With Tyki, I would have already had a little idea, but he was nowhere to be seen, the same for Allen, Lenalee or the other exorcists... Like any good time traveler, I immediately looked at the date arriving in this world but it hadn't helped me much. In the manga, we were just told that it was at the end of the 19th century but I wasn't sure if I was ten years before the story began (but I doubted it, because Sheryl was already a Noah… Well I think?) Or ten years later. Or even just right in the middle.

So I had a good range of twenty years and seeing that I was not going to leave anytime soon, I had to think about what I was going to do. And quickly. Ah the good existential question of "am I trying to change history or not?" That all time travelers have at some point...

Sitting in the armchair that I had declared mine at the far end of the library near the fireplace, I put my book down and finally thought about what I had tried to push away for two weeks. I couldn't remember my last memory. Everything was a bit hazy. I had a lot of memories of the first year and also of the summer that followed, and I think I remembered entering the last year of high-school, but I couldn't be sure… But I had a vague feeling of a paper of philosophy on the conscience, so it was that I got there right? Since Philosophy was only in last year... Or it was a youtube video that I still took too seriously. All that to say: no last distinct memory. I couldn't even tell if I was still 16, or if I was 17.

Considering that I had woken up on December 26th, did that mean that I had "left" my world on the same date? But maybe the time of my world was not the same as the time of this world? Arr… I couldn't be sure of anything. What if I couldn't even figure out how I got there... then how could I hope to find out how to get out of it? I wasn't kidding myself. I had tried in my room, but no badass power had appeared. Neither innocence, nor Dark Matter, nothing, nada.

It was my luck to succeed in finding myself in DGM and to NOT have any power! And besides, why DGM? Okay, that was one of my favorite manga, but if I found out that somehow I was the one who chose to reincarnate there, I would bang my head against the wall.

Many times.

Because really, DGM is THE manga where you don't want to reincarnate. Because if you reincarnate as Noah or as an exorcist, well it's done, you are destined to fight in the holy war and if you just reincarnate in civilian there is a good percentage that you have a tragic life story and that you die at the hands of the akumas. Or just to suffer from a terrible life, I guess, because, hello 19th century! Well, some were worse… Tokyo Ghoul, Owari no Seraph, Shingeki No Kyojin... Okay, I guess DGM wasn't the worst. Mortality speaking, we were between Pandora Hearts and Black Butler. But we are still well above shojo or sports manga...

Anyway, the question now was: What on Go-… Merlin, what should I do?!

Because I still had a very... er... privileged position. If we suppose we are before the story (because the universe has a serious sense of humor. No, because otherwise, I would have found myself in Antiquity. I mean, over 7000 years of history, really what are the probabilities of finding myself over the 20 years of canon stories?) so I still have access to every Noahs, including the Earl! Not that I could kill them, of course. I don't think I could do it, either physically (hello Road ripping off her skin as she passes quietly through a barrier of innocence) but especially mentally. But I could, I don't know, try to give relational nudges here and there? Preach the benefits of good communication? Show them that there are humans who are not that bad? I had read a very interesting theory that the Ark had a city form to house righteous humans during the Three Days of Darkness… But wait a second, this could all be part of my imagination! I could, I don't know, be in a coma? Or in a really very long and lucid dream?

What if I was in a dream, then… I could wake up!

Looking in the direction of the door to make sure no one was present, I pinched my arm, hard.

"Ouch"

Okay.

So, looks like it was not a dream. But could it still be a coma? Urgh, troublesome...

I lacked information. In the manga, we knew almost nothing. In fact, we didn't even know who the "good guys" and "bad guys" were. Because with the story of Lenalee and Kanda, the Order and especially Central, really did not seem to be the good guys. But the Earl with his Akumas and Tyki and his mania to tear people's hearts out, wasn't that good either… I knew the world was neither black nor white, that it was filled with shades of gray and all that mess but, damn, it was quite annoying to have no idea of what to do now...

On the brink of a moral crisis, I slumped into the armchair, Stendhal's Le Rouge et le Noir completely forgotten on the floor. Well, it was decided, I was going to let myself live. If somehow I was left alone at the mansion with Tricia and was never closely touched by the story: that's great! If, on the other hand, I met the charact-... people of the manga, I would judge them without the pink glasses of the series and see what I would do next.

Maybe Kanda was really as hateful as he was in the first few books, or maybe he was a big teddy bear and he just couldn't express it.

Maybe the Earl was actually the "good guy" and it was Jerry the demonic cook who was pulling Luberier's strings so that the Order was filled with traumatized child soldiers.

Maybe Road was really in love with Allen but Lavi, Tyki, Kanda, Lenalee and Johnny too and it would end in an orgy.

Really, who can know?

Friday January 9, 1885

"Fini!" I exclaimed from the door before collapsing on the bed full length.

A few days after my decision to move forward at my own pace, (which, I had to admit, was more or less equivalent to doing nothing and postponing the problem until later) Tricia had decided that it annoyed her that my room was so far away from hers. Indeed, I was still in the servants quarters, sharing a room with Clarisse and it took me at least ten good minutes to cross the whole manor in the bustle of the morning. What's more, Rosina, Tricia's personal servant, spent her time chasing after me, looking for me whenever her mistress wanted me to be there. Being either in my room, or in the kitchen, or in the library, three places more or less opposite to each other in the big mansion, she sometimes took more than half an hour to bring me back to her mistress. Very firmly, Tricia had therefore announced to me that Friday, barely five days after having put myself in her service, that I was going to change rooms for one just next to the master's.

She had therefore brought me to this one at the end of breakfast, a feverish air that I did not know contaminating all her movements. The room was a little bigger than the one I currently shared but it was less than a third of the master's.

Considering its layout, and the door leading to an adjoining room, I could deduce that it was originally intended to serve as a room for a governess. It was decorated very soberly with brown wood and blue bedding but it had a window up the bed which let in the light, and a fireplace to the left near the second door which warmed it pleasantly. The wallpaper was a neutral beige, and the floor was covered with dark wood parquet that matched the large desk, wardrobe, and bed frame. The set looked cozy and I couldn't wait to decorate it my way.

"Does that please you? I know there isn't much, but I can have other furniture brought in if that's okay with you?" Tricia asked, smiling. She seemed a little worried about my answer, so I smiled at her and said it was perfect.

She beamed with happiness and began to talk a mile an hour about what could be done to improve the room. I quickly learned that Tricia had the soul of a decorator. Lucky for me, she had good tastes because I had no idea what I was doing. I had never had to choose furniture for my room before, having inherited those from my siblings, so I was happy to let her do it. However, I still had to put my two cents in when she started talking to me about four-poster beds, curtains or a stove. I hated messing around and even though Tricia was more than up for it, I wasn't too sure about Sheryl or Ernest, I was still an employee! In the end, despite having tried to deny everything altogether, I gave in on a round table and two carpets which gathered dust in the unused room next door. When Tricia went back to bed for her afternoon nap, I asked John to help me carry the massive furniture to my new room, panting when I was done. I don't know how long I haven't worked out, but it must have been a while! Just bringing the chair in had taken all my strength and I could hardly help John with the table. I hated to say that, but I was going to need to get back in shape… Anyway, it was after going to look for and install my meager possessions (made up exclusively of what Dolores and Clarisse had given me) that I was now staring at the ceiling, wondering what I was going to be able to do next.

"J'ai envie de déssiner..." I mumbled, thinking about drawing, before freezing. Were there even pencils in the 19th century?! Yeah, yeah sure, it looked like coal, I'm sure they must have been thinking about it since. In addition, the art brands of my time liked to highlight their long existence. Well, surely there wouldn't be a criterium or even maybe an eraser, but they should already have something to scribble on. I was pretty sure Allen had drawn Marshal Cross when they were looking for him in China…

Ho.

There was a little more urgency than the pencils. It had been precisely two weeks since I had woken up in this world and five days since I had discovered that I was in DGM and yet, I still had not done the most important thing of all good (read here: one wishing to survive the cannon) time traveler: A timeline.

Granted, I still didn't know when I was, but I urgently needed to take care of it. On the one hand because I did not have a very good memory and that even though I had read the manga less than two months ago, I was already beginning to forget the details and on the other hand, because I hadn't read the entire manga less than two months ago. DGM was one of my first manga. Not very smart to let a seven year old read that, but, in defense of my parents, they had forbidden me to do so. And that was surely one of the reasons why I had devoured them. The other being that at the time I did not know of the glorious existence of the divine library or the holy internet and that it was one of my brother's last manga series that I had not tried. As a result, I had read the first ten volumes so much that the pages had started to peel off and, when I had finally bought the sequel when I was about ten years old, it was those I destroyed passionaly with my love.

If we counted that I was more or less 17 years old, it had been about seven years since I had reread the first ten volumes.

I was so fucked up...

If I was more or less unbeatable about the Ark arc and akuma IV arc and the ending was recent enough that I can remember it, the rest was a mix of old memories and fanfic's fanon. So it was with a groan that I got up from the bed before sitting down at the small desk to begin to mark everything I remembered. Except... My meager possessions were limited to a few old clothes from Dolores and Clarisse aaaand... that was all. I didn't have a notebook, pencil, or even a piece of writing paper to scribble on a rough draft! Frowning, I looked demoralized at the blank page before sighing and standing up suddenly. Having nothing to do for the next three hours, I might as well keep busy by going in search of a pen!

Where to find it? I guess I could always buy some… There was a small village not far from the manor and I had never been there before, it was an opportunity! But where exactly was it? Were there any specialty stores for that? Not sure, in this case, that they are in the village, it was not so big from what I had understood… There would undoubtedly be in London and the capital was hardly one hour away in a horse-drawn carriage but the only way to go was to accompany John during the refueling and he had already left. Otherwise, I guess I could always borrow one temporarily. But now that I thought about it, I knew how to get to a number of specific places like the library or the kitchens, but I had never really wandered around the mansion and there were a lot of rooms that I didn't know. And even if I found a study, could I borrow a pen like that? I was still not too sure of all the rules of courtesy in this world and I did not want people to believe that I stole something. The easiest way would be to ask someone's permission but Tricia was sleeping… Maybe I could try to find Clarisse? I had seen her write before, so she must have had some...

Shrugging, I decided to explore until I accomplished my goal, which, I recall, was to find a pen. Preferably a pencil. And if Clarisse didn't have one, I would brave the cold to go to the village. Even though I couldn't find a pen, I urgently needed more clothes that were more in my size. Dolores was shorter than me and Clarisse thinner, so all the dresses I currently had were a little too tight for me and even though Tricia didn't dare say anything out of politeness, her gaze spoke volumes.

Sighing, I grabbed my coat and my first pay then I opened the door wide and left to explore. Anyway, it was not by staying in my room that a pencil would fall directly on my knees. However, no matter how much I walked through the halls of the mansion, turning randomly each time I came to a crossroads, descending two stairs and going up a third, I did not meet anyone. It was time, I told myself, the employees must all be cleaning or taking their break away from the family quarters where their mistress was resting. It was by descending a small, narrow staircase, a secret passage for the employees that I arrived in a vaguely recognizable corridor. Frowning, I moved vaguely towards what I thought was the hall, hoping from there to reach the kitchens.

However, as I walked along the wall, gazing curiously at the paintings, I graciously took a door in the face.

It wasn't me who wasn't looking where I was going! It was the door that had opened when I walked past… Hands on my nose, hissing in pain, I narrowed my eyes full of tears at the author of this appalling mischief… and hastened to stop shooting him with my eyes in favor of trying to smile awkwardly.

"Excuse me, Miss Campbell, I didn't think you were at the door. Sheryl said tiredly, picking up my coat that fell to the floor during our altercation. "Did you need something?" He said, handing it to me.

"Uh no, I didn't want to see you, I got lost. I mumbled quickly, sparing a hand to grab the coat as I realized what I had said. I was hoping that the sentence in English was not as awkward as it sounded in my head in French… I hadn't meant at all that I didn't want to see him but that I didn't want to… well... urgh, you understood.

"And where did you want to go?" Sheryl asked, letting his eyes focus on my worn coat.

"Ah, I was thinking of going to the village to buy myself… pencils and maybe pants… no, what's the word… dresses!" I stammered, the stress making me lose my words even more than usual. His piercing gaze made me too uncomfortable. I hated having his full attention on me and only wanted one thing: to apologize profusely so that I could disappear from his sight.

"Pencils come before dresses?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure." I responded by removing the hand holding my nose before rushing it back into place when I saw it covered in blood. Usually, I would have chosen the pencil anyway but now I needed it even more. My future survival clearly depended more on the info I was going to mark with it, than on a dress a little less shabby… Oh Merlin, there was blood on the carpet! I wasn't going to get shooted at, was I? It was he who opened the door in my face. When in doubt... I slipped my right foot over the stain to hide it. I was so focused on the action that it took a while for me to realize that Sheryl hadn't answered. Looking up, I saw him staring at my chest causing me to instinctively growl.

"Even in this state?" He suddenly asked and I finally followed his gaze to see a beautiful red spot spread across the front of my dress. No… urgh , I moan in annoyance, my face contorting into a grimace. And then, at that moment, Sheryl Kamelott, Noah of desire and Marquis Kamelott, master of this mansion did something that made me open my eyes wide in amazement: He smiled.

It was a simple thing, a curling of the lips accompanied by a barely audible chuckle, but it was enough to send a shiver of fear up my spine. Until now, Sheryl had been nothing but polite or bored. He'd barely glance at me during my job interviews and some cold greetings when I silently came to serve his wife. So seeing the fun dancing in his eyes when, it seems, I was the one who produced it, it was… disturbing.

"Well, there's nothing I can do about your dress, though…" he said, re-entering his office before leaving immediately, a nice fountain pen in his hand. "Here, I'll lend it to you. By the time you change your clothes, it will soon be time to wake up Tricia, you won't have time to go to the village today..." He said smiling before putting it in my hand when I did not react immediately and left towards the hall.

Fixing my gaze on the overpriced fountain pen in my hand, I wondered for a moment what the hell had happened, before shrugging my shoulders and heading to my room... and stopping hastily as I passed. in front of a mirror, because ho Merlin, it was so messed up! In addition to my dress and my hand, my face was smeared with blood. I understood better why Sheryl looked so amused when I chose the pen over new clothes…

"Okay. Granted, clothes may be more necessary than pencils." I mumbled grudgingly to my reflection, rubbing my cheek to remove the blood and reveal the existence of a mole I couldn't even remember. Staring at my bloody sleeve, I sighed. No longer necessary, indeed.

Currently anyway...

This fic will be updated every 25th of the month, while I manage to keep up :)

Think about the reviews and see you on the 25th of next month!