I’ve often wondered to myself, how stories work. No, I suppose that is a bit vague. I believe that I often wonder how romance in stories work.

See, it’s perfectly common to pick up a book, whatever genre it may be—action, horror, mystery—and discover that there should be a romance in it. It may be a trifling thing, a small side story between some insignificant characters. But nonetheless, there should be a romance and that ought to seem almost default.

I’ve even found stories in which the end of the world is coming and the protagonist and a love interest must be present. By the stars! The world is ending! Save the world before you gaze at each other’s eyes lovingly!

But I digress. I get ahead of myself so quickly.

Before, I’ve fancied that perhaps women are very romantic creatures and they simply write whatever interests them, and it comes along that they are interested in the most fantastic and nearly ludicrous love stories. Then I realized that, no. It is not a trait that only women possess, for I have read books authored by men and still, there is some love in it. Of course, it is more usual that the women’s story of love is much more romantic than the man’s, but it is love, regardless.

So then I suppose that people themselves are just interested in love and would like to write stories about it. That seems fair enough.

It’s really is fascinating how it works.

More than once, I’ve read stories where boy meets girl once—once!—and they fall in love. Sometimes they do not say it right away, but wait for an opportune moment where they meet up again before professing undying ardor for each other. I am sorry to say that I’m not sure how that would work. See, I wonder (and some people do mock me for thinking… they worry that I might hurt myself in the process) how two people could simply “fall in love at first sight.” It’s so highly improbable.

In novels, boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, they live happily ever after. No one ever questions it. And yet, I do.

What if their personalities clashed? What if they do not share the same interests? What if their interests are on the opposite sides of the extremes? And if their families do not approve? I really do not understand because what if they claim love to each other and later realize they do not share an affinity? Would that not end in some heart-breaking situation?

I do not believe that one can truly love without really knowing another person.

Evidently, one should not consider jumping into such a commitment with such little preparation for it.

Of course, there is the problem of “love” and “lust.” You lust after a person so you want to be with them.

But it is so that no love is required in lusting, but no lust is required in loving.

However, then we go upon the subject of what love is? Love is blind, but not always right, so how would you know?

There are a million different types of love, so how would you know if it is considered “right” or which category it falls into? There is no way to decipher these different types, but you can only assume and hope that you have guessed right. And there are cultures and religions to touch up upon.

But no, that makes my head hurt, so let’s not graze upon those delicate subjects.

So here we are at, with our conclusions: a boy meets a girl once and falls in love, the girl falls in love with the boy, they marry, they are happy.

It seems so simple for love to occur, and there might not ever be any questions as to whether or not it is true. But really, now…. Does it matter if it is true or not? It is just a novel…. Yet sometimes, one cannot help but to bring fiction into life. It just bothers me, that’s all. A lot. It bothers me a lot.

There’s something unnatural for one to be so easily infatuated and set for life.

Should there be no initial “getting to know each other” time? Should they not meet for more than a handful of times before deciding that they are truly in love, and not only suffering from a small case of crushes? There should be at least a bit of transition before they claim it as such.

So then, what does one see in another that makes them fall in love with just one meeting? Does it have to do with good looks? What if one was not handsome? Does that mean that they will never get the chance to fall in love?

No, no, I’m just making up too many “what ifs” now. That’s really not true. Less handsome people do fall in love in real life.

So let’s breach upon another topic!

There seems to be many factors that may prevent two from coming together. After all, that is what is always occurring in a romantic tragedy. There’s always an antagonist to keep the two lovers from coming together. And most frequently those issues should be status in life and, to go on more precarious tilts, gender. The former, I find, is less common nowadays, with more modern thinkings and such. Though uncommon, it is not taboo for someone of a higher status to fall in love with someone of a lower status. So then, let’s disregard that for now and focus on the latter, shall we?

We have observed several times that if a boy and a girl fall in love, regardless of previous interaction and such, then it is perfectly fine. Nothing wrong about that, no one will question it. It’s perfectly fine for a boy and a girl to fall in love without actually knowing each other.

But say, what if they were not boy and girl? It is not so very forbidden, but some still arch their eyebrows and proclaim it wrong. So do excuse me for brushing on a topic as shaky as this.

It is then very peculiar if, say, a boy and a boy meet each other for the first time and fall in love. No, nobody ever suspects that. They will suspect that the two will become very good friends or fantastic rivals, but never lovers. Or so, it is much less common than the usual stereotype that a boy and a girl will fall in love. Otherwise if it is suggested, then the one who suggested it would get laughed at and told to be very crazy.

So what is the case in this? Is it hinted that chemistry must occur between a boy and a girl, and that it is a laughable (and occasionally even damnable) situation that a girl and a girl or a boy and a boy shall share such chemistry?

We do still have that old and stupid stereotype that a boy and a girl cannot be “good friends” but will, some way or another, fall in love with each other. What is that? I have friends who are female. I have not madly fallen in love with all of them. That is a bit farfetched now, is it not?

Even more peculiar for me is the fact that much more interaction between two of the same sex could occur and nothing is suspected, but a first meeting between two of different sexes will be immediately lumped together as a couple.

So are you telling me that two boys who knew each other from childhood, grew up together, interacted with each other, and fought, and laughed, and joked together… could not possibly be in love?

And in retrospect, an anonymous boy bumps into an anonymous girl for about five minutes, exchange a friendly conversation before leaving, and they are in love?

It’s the impression I get. And whether or not I should be upset at that, I’m really not sure.

We will once again go to the problem of an antagonist of kinds preventing lovers from being together. Usually, if a man and a woman are the protagonist, and the antagonist seeks to keep them apart from each other, the reader will immediately find pity and hope for the best—that they will end up with each other.

See the classics and you will understand what I mean. Shakespeare gave us Romeo and Juliet and folklore gave us the tale of the two lovers in heaven, separated by the Milky Way. We will hope that no matter what happens, that maybe the two will be with each other. That is not always the case, but we still want it.

But if it were two boys? Say that, like in our previous example, they were childhood friends and they grew up with each other. We will hypothetically give them some problems now. They grew up in a society where love exists only between a man and a woman, so it is not unexpected that they should not be able to realize that the strange feeling they get each time they see each other is actually in reality love. So they grow up and are forced apart by life’s small tendencies and never see each other again.

How long does it have to be before they realize this fact? But alas, dear readers! It is too late. They are probably married with children now, are they not? And by what chances could they ever see each other anyways?

Too bad, so sad. They were never meant to be anyways, right? How is it that two men could fall in love anyways? Ridiculous.

Think about that, won’t you?

The world has many controversies, and this is one of them. By telling you all this, I do not believe that it will change the world in any way good or bad.

I merely see this as something that is rather hard to solve. It is not only a case of “common sense.” I know well that it is a situation that is argued over and over again with many good reasons to back up each side. Thus this is only my view on this dear topic.

But if such things prevent true lovers from loving then that is what really—

“Naruto?”

A knock on the door and the twisting of the doorknob caused the blond to stop typing and look at the door. His hand hovered indecisively over the keyboard.

“Oh, Hinata,” he greeted with a slight look of surprise. He had been deeply immersed in his self-reflection. Out of habit, he swiftly shut the laptop and turned in his swivel chair to face the girl. Some of his bangs fell in his eyes, blocking his view a bit. After shaking his head slightly, he was able to clear his view considerably.

She had her long hair tied back though some of her bangs still dropped down to obscure the pale eyes she had. Long lashes further hid the pale irises. The perpetual blush on her face was present, making her look flushed and slightly breathless, though that usually was not the case. As usual, her stance was oddly more protective and cautious than most, even as she leaned on the door frame to the room.

“We have guests,” she announced softly. With a hand, she brushed back her bangs before letting them fall again, as if abruptly shocked and embarrassed by Naruto’s gaze. Her eyes dropped to the floor and her blush deepened.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Of course,” Naruto stood up from his seat and took a step forward—and immediately tripped over his slippers. Hinata hid her smile behind a hand and a blush. Truly, Naruto was only graceful in front of the laptop and typing. Anywhere else, and he’d still be the clumsy, forgetful boy he was many years ago.

Many are still quite impressed with the fact that the awkward boy became such a prominent author in his adulthood. It never struck them that he would be so good at writing in the first place. True enough that he told tales that were stretched to unbelievable heights and entertained everyone until they were all curled up in bunches laughing, but writing was another story. It required patience and skill, things that his friends had always jokingly said he lacked.

Quickly, he righted himself and recovered. He smiled sheepishly at Hinata, rubbed his neck nervously, and walked over to her. “Let’s go then,” he said to her, dropping his hand down to his side. He barely acknowledged the fact that she had slipped her small hand into his as they walked out of the hallway to greet the guests at the door. More out of muscle memory than anything, he squeezed her hand and they exited the room.

They would have to trek down the hallway before turning out to the doorway that led to the small room for greeting visitors.

There was a soft murmuring at the door, though Naruto could not see who it was yet. He could hear a feminine voice giggle before a lower tenor responded shortly. Then was a silence which he acutely noted for some bizarre reason. It was then that Naruto realized he had forgotten to ask Hinata who was at the door before coming out with her. He usually did that out of habit before even getting out of the chair. Perhaps he was just a bit absentminded today.

When they finally reached the doorframe leading to the door, she squeezed his hand softly and looked up at him shyly. He looked down at her gently, if not a bit distractedly. He noted who was in front of him.

There were two people at the door. One of them had pale pink hair and the other had dark. The two of them were obviously a couple, seeing that the girl had her arm possessively laced around the man’s. They had their heads bent together (though it appeared more like the girl was tiptoeing to get closer to the man) and talking.

To Naruto, there was a stab of recognition, though he was not able to put his finger on it completely at first. Then, the man lifted his face to look up.

Black eyes met with blue and suddenly, Naruto stiffened. A thrilling shiver went through his body, making him feel oddly electrocuted.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt Hinata pull away from his suddenly clammy hand and walk toward their other guest. The two girls drew away to talk with each other, giggling.

Naruto stood at the doorframe, frozen. The other man seemed just as shocked and stood just as stiffly as Naruto.

Mechanically, the blond felt his lips twitch themselves into a smile. He appeared calm enough, but somehow, he could feel his insides shattering. Something was about to snap, but he desperately scrabbled to keep it together. His blue eyes roamed over the familiar figure. No wonder he had felt that jolt of recognition.

His dark hair had not changed in style, still with long bangs and the strange spikes in the back. But it seemed that he did keep his eyebrows neatly trimmed. Now, those eyebrows were marginally inclined. Thin, dry lips, Naruto remembered, that were always stretched into a line of apathy, was now parted slightly as the smallest sign of surprise. But it was looking into his eyes that made Naruto’s heart just stop.

They were as black as they were when he last saw them, if not a bit more hollow and cold. But no matter, even if they seemed blank and void, Naruto knew that they still had some feeling behind them. If not before, then now they did. There was a small spark of something warm behind them. But then they blinked, and there was no longer any trace of emotions.

He, too, put on a mask and shut himself off from the world. It was a thousand times dangerous and a million times painful. But neither would say so. No, not in the presence of these two women.

His body seemed to work on automatic as it became less tense. “Hey there,” Naruto heard himself say. The words seemed foreign and unlike his own. His tongue seemed leaden and useless even as they shaped the words that were uttered. He stepped forward to the man and offered a hand for shaking. “I’m Naruto. And you are…?” But he knew who this was and there was no need to ask. So why were they putting on an act for the two women? Even Naruto did not understand.

A paler, warmer hand was slipped inside of Naruto’s as they shook. The other did not say anything. The handshake was a few seconds longer than necessary and neither of them seemed to be eager to let go. It seemed that a tangible strain was repelling each other—or was it pulling them? The rawest form of self-control seemed to keep the thread from breaking.

Finally, their hands fell apart, fingertips twitching to touch again. The muscles in their arms tightened as if holding itself back from lashing out and grabbing each other. It was an awkward motion which they both used to place their arms back at their sides.

A deep voice, the voice that Naruto had heard while walking out to the door, finally broke the invisible sheet that masked over their nose and mouths. It was deceivingly calm and even, just like Naruto’s. “I’m Sasuke—Sakura’s fiancé. She’s a friend of Hinata’s. We came today to invite you to our… wedding.”

As they fell upon Naruto’s ears, he realized how much they had both grown. Sasuke’s voice had grown so much deeper. But the pitch in voice was not what made his head spin and his eyes see flashes of dots. “I—see,” Naruto choked out. He looked away briefly and cleared his throat. “That’s lovely to hear. Congratulations.” Again, he felt his broken-glass smile rise to his lips.

Sasuke flinched slightly at the smile but nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Thank you.” It was unnecessarily formal and forced even as he said it.

The blond’s mouth parted slightly and his foot shifted forward, toward Sasuke. His eyebrows suddenly pinched together in an expression of letting go and breaking the thread. The hand that he had dropped to his side after the handshake spasmed, as if wanting to lift itself again. But then, just as abruptly, he clammed up and stepped back. “I’m sorry. Excuse me,” he said and turned around, walking stiffly to his room.

He felt so out of it as he turned to close the door softly before pressing his back against the cold wood. Slowly, slowly, he slid down the length of the door and pressed his hand over his mouth. Painfully, he screwed his eyes shut and let out a silent, strangled sob.

Through the door and down the hall, he faintly heard the two women asking “Where is Naruto?” “Is he feeling alright?” “Should I go get him again?” but he did not hear a response from Sasuke.

Yet even as he listened to the worried talking of the women his ears filled with the roaring of a million pieces of glass shattering. His heart felt like a piece of tissue being torn by a nervous girl’s hands. It hurt.

But if such things prevent true lovers from loving then that is what really breaks me apart inside.