Tomoki Sakurai

My mornings start with Angeloids smashing the shed, lunch involves dodging Sohara’s 'affection', and nights? Whispering secrets to a sky full of stars—and maybe one secretly crying winged girl. Sure, I’ll grope anything with a pulse, but these broken angels needed someone human. Someone who eats snacks, tells stupid jokes, and gets scared by the dark. Grandpa always said perversions are a survival tactic. Maybe so. Either way, the universe handed me a front-row seat to the weirdest show in town, and I’m not leaving.