Type Moon must hold a patent on masturbating audiences with visual arts. To get it, they would need to have run controlled experiments with otaku, figuring out the precise placement of mood music and pop fetishes and pseudo morality and deeply contrasting color schemes to put a stupid grin on subjects' faces. (The Lonely Island, eat your heart out.) The after effect is the same: "Well, that was pointless. But it felt good at the time."

Canaan, aside from being the name of the ancient region in the Middle East where, to be as precise as possible, shit went down repeatedly — it's also the name of our protagonist, a girl from a region described as much the same. She bears a tattoo on her left arm, coinciding with a similar one on the right arm of her dual, Alphard. Cue intense fighting, sparks flying... fly tying? Anyway, the other figure in play is Maria, a cute young photographer who smiles all the time to hide her apprehensions about all the bad things that keep happening to her, from getting attacked by hoodlums (only to be saved by Canaan) to a kidnapping and infection with a deadly virus.

Maria is an interesting character in the early episodes — perhaps the only one. She's clearly a wreck, but also a pro at rolling with the punches. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that she runs toward the fire in full anticipation of being rescued by Canaan again. The show wastes no time in knocking her expectations down a notch, but not before the two reunite in ambiguously platonic fashion, and share some time in the sun with a big umbrella and giant sundaes. Stay tuned for the shocking revelation about how Maria's family is at the epicenter of the aforementioned rivalry!

Once again, I'm in the position of not wanting to recommend a Type Moon production and also not wanting to stop watching. Dammit.