Misaki Mei Now

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 color,” Mei replied softly. “It’s getting stronger. Like a stain on the sky.” 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. The rain in Yomiyama never feels like water;

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. “You’re still looking for it, aren’t you

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