Let us live on this land so arid. KARAKARA. It is the sound of aridity. It is the sound of dry asphalt and sandy winds. It is the sound of relentless sunshine, as well as the sound of a withering race. The “Age of Dusk.” It is a time of senescence for the human species, during which hybrids known as the “Others”—those who are human, yet not—exist in great numbers. On the windswept barrens of a land without moisture, a small gathering of people make their living in a world they no longer know. Down a stretch of highway and far from the heart of the town are two such people who run a small diner. To them, the circumstances that reshaped their world is of far less concern than the number of lunch boxes they can load into their delivery vehicle. After all, leaving customers hungry is not good for business, and business keeps them fed. Day after day, they occupy themselves with the endless work of their store. However, the comfortable monotony of their daily lives is turned on its head when they discover a large suitcase by the roadside on their way home from deliveries. Lying on the suitcase, unmoving, is a young girl with pink hair… Though parched, they keep each other company, and while hollow, they fill each other’s voids. So shall they live on this land so arid.