Looking at the photo of himself, dressed in white — Sora tapped on the image.
In the blink of an eye, his consciousness dove into the photo.
He looked around in surprise. It seemed he had entered Tenten's home.
On the desk in front of him were a brush and several draft pages. The title read: The Uchiha Clan.
Delighted, Sora began flipping through it. To his amazement, this wasn't an illusion — it was a real manuscript. Every word was sharp and clear.
Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door.
Sora hurriedly sat down at the desk and pretended to be deep in thought.
Tenten entered, dressed in a white training outfit, barefoot, with steam still rising from her — she had clearly just finished training.
She carried a tray with three skewers of tri-colored dango and sat down right next to Sora, casually close, as if it were totally normal.
Sora was a bit startled by the proximity, but Tenten seemed used to it.
She grabbed two skewers — one she shoved into her own mouth, the other she held up to his lips with a grin.
"Here, say 'ahhhh'!"
Sora instinctively opened his mouth — only for Tenten to snatch the dango away and pop it into her own mouth.
"You want some? Go get it yourself in the kitchen," she mumbled through full cheeks.
Sora's inner fire sparked. He leaned down toward her mouth to snatch the dango back.
Tenten yelped, pushing back across the tatami until she hit the wall, face red. "W-what are you doing?!"
"Eating dango."
Sora picked up the last skewer, acting like nothing happened.
But deep inside, he was even more shocked than Tenten. The photo he had clicked into… seemed to contain an entire world.
After that, Tenten gave him a "punishment" — by messing up his hair into a bird's nest.
Having vented her flustered embarrassment, she patted Sora on the shoulder and said,
"Good luck, great author. I'm still waiting on your finished manuscript."
With that, she left the room, gently closing the door behind her.
Only after her footsteps faded did Sora get up and try to leave the room.
Unfortunately, he couldn't.
More precisely — he couldn't even leave this room. The door wouldn't open beyond it. He couldn't access the bedroom or bathroom either.
It seemed the world inside the photo, while vivid and real, had limited space and time. Otherwise, the storage function would be far too overpowered.
Still, it was more than enough to make Sora happy.
This meant that all the experience and knowledge he gained inside simulations could be carried back and used in reality. Could this even include training progress?
Sora couldn't wait to start the next simulation and test it out.
But before that, he decided to memorize the first volume of The People of the Uchiha Clan — the biography of Madara Uchiha — so he'd have a foundation to establish himself in Konoha later.
He also memorized the ninja tool blueprint he had designed for Tenten. Compared to an entire book, a blueprint was much easier.
After all, he didn't need to memorize exact measurements. That would raise too many questions — how would an orphan know such precise technical details?
He only needed to provide the concept to earn Tenten's trust.
Once he was done, Sora was about to exit the photo world when a thought occurred to him.
He swallowed hard, flipped through the photo stack, and landed on the one taken on that night with Tenten.
Fuuuu—
He exhaled. Should I go in?
Logically, Sora knew he should distinguish between simulation and reality. How would he face the real Tenten otherwise?
But realistically? He wanted to test how well he could fight in his current, chakra-less condition.
So, he clicked the photo.
Instantly, he found himself in front of a drunk Tenten.
Her eyes were hazy, lips curled slightly upward — the look of someone waiting to be kissed.
Sora stared, momentarily frozen.
Tenten suddenly burst into tears. "So you really don't like me! Is it 'cause I'm not feminine enough?!"
"My body isn't good enough, my face isn't pretty enough, and I just play with ninja tools all day. You're a high-and-mighty big-shot writer. You must like someone else, right?!"
"Is it Ino? Hinata? Don't tell me… Tsunade-sama? Or even Kurenai-sensei?!"
Tenten seemed genuinely heartbroken, sobbing uncontrollably like she was about to roll on the floor.
Sora finally snapped out of his daze.
He didn't stop her from crying. Instead, he smiled quietly at her.
Which made her cry even harder — she thought he was mocking her.
Dressed in a beautiful kimono, wearing victory lingerie underneath, she now felt like a complete clown.
Just as she was about to turn and leave, Sora spoke.
"Tenten… there's something I want to ask you. Only you can help me."
Her steps froze.
She slowly turned back, inching toward him in little hesitant steps, head bowed. "What is it?"
Sora looked at her pitiful appearance and confirmed one thing: Tenten was completely clueless when it came to love.
So he dropped the teasing and got straight to the point.
"I want to create a perfect ninja tool — one that belongs only to the two of us."
Tenten wiped her eyes, clearly still annoyed, but asked anyway, "Tell me your idea. And why only for the two of us?"
Sora suddenly leaned forward and kissed her.
Under her petrified gaze, he said, "This new ninja tool… I want to call it Sora Tenten — our child. Will you help me make it?"
Tenten's frozen expression cracked — her entire face turned as red as a shrimp.
Just as Sora thought she'd melt into embarrassment, the alcohol kicked in.
Without warning, Tenten pounced on him, eyes swirling.
"You said it! No take-backs!"
"N-no… even if you wanted to, it's too late. So… please take care of me?"
Sora gently loosened the sash of her kimono, revealing her special lingerie — and smiled tenderly.
That night, Sora grew up into adult.
There were stumbles along the way — they even hurt each other a bit — but in the end, they achieved full harmonious unity.
And to Sora's surprise, that memory was rich and vivid, spanning months of dreamlike montage.
Right up until Tenten began to show a baby bump — and her mother dragged Sora by the ear and scolded him endlessly — the simulation ended.
When Sora returned to the real world, a faint smile still hung on his lips.