What do you do at the end of the world?

Sukasuka is a poignant tale that revolves around Kutori, a young girl who wakes up to a world where humanity has been extinct for the past 527 years. As admirable as her struggles to salvage the scraps of a forlorn world are, her endeavours are merely ridiculed by an inevitable hopelessness. At the end of the day, she sleeps teary-eyed, only to be revitalized by a pint of love. She receives it from the last human on the planet, a man named Willem.

Although its romantic moments are brief and numbered, Sukasuka is more of a love story than anything.

In their race against time, Willem regrets every passing second, knowing it means the loss of another life. And even though Kutori puts up a strong face for the children around her, she always feels the lingering sense that she could be doing so much more. On the whole, it’s this genuine desire to change others that imbues Sukasuka’s cruel world with an understated beauty. After all, the end of the world isn’t important in Sukasuka. It’s what you do at the end of the world.

Kutori isn’t looking for sympathy like some tragic heroine. All she wants is a reason to fight, because to know there’s meaning behind her actions is the only validation she can seek out amidst the bleak future. It’s her response to the end of the world.

Although the destination Kutori pursues is nowhere in sight, she and Willem will always move forward, one step at a time. And that only brings them closer than ever. As Kutori starts to lose her memories, Willem takes notice without her saying a word. It only natural that he hears her hollow pleas, because she’s a part of him. To the two of them, they’re lone voices in a vast world of uncertainty, but that’s okay. After all, the fate of the world seems trivial when compared to the bizarre strings of fate that tie them together. All in all, that’s the type of story SukaSuka is: a story that believes in the power to find hope in a world where it doesn’t exist.

But none of Sukasuka’s themes would feel meaningful without Kutori and Willem at the heart of its story.

This is a story that never tries to tug at your heartstrings, even though it’s full of hardship. Although they may struggle, Kutori and Willem always look for ways to better themselves, not out of mutual pity, but for the sake of others.

Even though we’re given vague memories to piece together their backstories, the past Kutori and Willem share is nothing more than a blur. That being said, they know as little about each other as we do, and this separates them with an awkward atmosphere that flows perfectly into Willem’s abrupt marriage proposal.

Ultimately, Willem’s confession arrives at an ideal time where Kutori begins to struggle to convey her feelings. Only through shattering the anxieties that divide them are the two able to reach a profound level of intimacy that completes them as individuals. They give each other the courage to face not only each other, but the world, as the heartfelt words they exchange cause the people they once were to crumble away. Kutori’s memories may fade, but she’ll be reborn stronger than ever for Willem’s sake—for the world’s sake.

In that sense, while the bond Kutori and Wilhelm share seems astronomical, they also affect each other in the most subtle of ways, and it’s this humanity that tints the tears they shed with glimmer of hope.

For the two of them, supporting each other doesn’t mean compromising their convictions as individuals. Instead, their bond allows them to move forward, taking all of the hardship and uncertainty of the future with a smile. More than being an adorable couple, Kutori and Willem imbue Sukasuka’s setting with a glimmer of hope that changes the way people see the world, because although it’s a place marred by injustice and suffering, they prove that it also happens to be full of love.