Misaki Mei Info

She adjusted the white patch over her left eye. Beneath it lay the glass eye her mother, Yukiyo, had crafted—a doll’s eye that could see what others couldn't: the Color of Death . Lately, the hue wasn't just clinging to people; it was seeping into the very architecture of the school, pooling around the empty desks of Class 3-3.

The rain in Yomiyama never feels like water; it feels like weight. Mei Misaki stood on the rooftop of North Yomi Middle School, her black hair whipping against her eyepatch in the sudden gale. In her hands, she held a sketchpad, though the page remained blank. “You’re still looking for it, aren’t you?”

The following is an original story inspired by the atmosphere and lore of Another . Misaki Mei

“The color,” Mei replied softly. “It’s getting stronger. Like a stain on the sky.”

She lifted her eyepatch just a fraction. The world shifted. The vibrant green of the distant mountains turned into a bruised, sickly purple. She saw the "extra" person clearly now, standing in the middle of the schoolyard below. They were laughing with friends, unaware that they were a hollow shell, a dead person who had forgotten they had died. She adjusted the white patch over her left eye

“It’s a pointless tragedy,” Mei murmured, her voice lost to the wind. “But the show must go on.”

Mei didn’t turn. She knew the voice—it was light, melodic, and shouldn’t have been there. It belonged to her twin sister, Misaki Fujioka, who had been gone for months. But in this town, "gone" was a relative term. The rain in Yomiyama never feels like water;

She closed her eyes, letting the eyepatch snap back into place. Tomorrow, the deaths would begin again. For now, she would just be the girl who wasn't there, drawing pictures of dolls that couldn't feel the rain.