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 color,” Mei replied softly. “It’s getting stronger. Like a stain on the sky.” Misaki Mei
The following is an original story inspired by the atmosphere and lore of Another . She adjusted the white patch over her left eye
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. “The color,” Mei replied softly
“It’s a pointless tragedy,” Mei murmured, her voice lost to the wind. “But the show must go on.”