Misaki Mei -

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.

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

“The class thinks ignoring you will keep them safe,” the voice of the sister she lost whispered from the shadows of the doorway. “They think if you don't exist, the Calamity won't either.” She closed her eyes, letting the eyepatch snap

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?” “It’s a pointless tragedy,” Mei murmured, her voice

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.

Mei finally looked back, but the doorway was empty. Only a single, stray feather from a crow drifted onto the wet concrete. She thought of Kouichi Sakakibara, the transfer student who had broken the rules by talking to her. He was the only one who saw her as more than a ghost, yet his kindness was the very thing pulling the thread of the curse tighter.

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