Summary:  Which is easier?  A girl me, or a boy me? 

Warnings:  AUish (probably more warnings along the way)

Pairings:  Kanji and Naoto, for sure, possibly more on the way.

Notes:  So if Naoto were an idol, with all the same issues that comes along with being Naoto Shirogane, how differently would things play out?

***

She can feel the music dancing across her skin as she steps onto the stage.  The lights are bright and shine down upon her, waiting for their pop princess to take the microphone and awaken the crowd before her.  Naoto Shirogane puts on an easily practiced smile and her cheeks hurt a little each time she does it, but anything for the fans.   Absolutely anything.   “Ladies and gentleman!"  She yells into the mic, lips glossed with just a right amount of lipstick.  It walks the fine line between flirt and slut, a line she prances down in her cute, black heels, "It’s time to start the show!”   This isn’t the Naoto Shirogane the music world has gotten accustomed to.  The Naoto of yesterday wore a cool demeanor, that mysterious boy next door who just moved into the neighborhood yesterday.  That Naoto was intriguing, someone that everyone wanted to know more about, trying to catch a glimpse whenever that stylish, blue hat breezed passed them.  But that hat long gone, replaced with a cute bow to match a dress made of pink cotton candy colors, frills, and sweethearted dreams.   “What do you think you’re doing?"    Now there’s another Naoto that walks onto the stage, dressed in tight, black pants with a blue shirt and sharp, yellow tie.  This is the Naoto the world knows, the one teenage girls fantasize about along with their housewife mothers.  Naoto frowns at the girl, "That is not who I am.”   “What?  How dare you!  Yes it is!”   “You must be joking,” he says with a cruel laugh, “As if I would ever parade around like that.”   “Well you certainly can’t keep parading around the way you are now,” the girl says, “That just gives people the wrong idea.”   “What do you mean?”   “It confuses people, you know?  It makes them think you’re a boy, that you’re dating that pierced boy to help your image.”   The other Naoto takes a step back from the girl, “T-that is not true,” he says, “I did not do that just to help my image.”   “It’s all about your image.  You being a boy, you dating that boy.  Admit it, you did all of this because you’re scared of me.”   “What?”   The girl laughs, voice taking on a more sinister edge.  The cuteness is melting away, her lips turned in an ugly frown, “You’re scared of what comes with being a female idol.  You’re not strong enough to handle it,” and there’s a sick, yellow tint in her eyes as she speaks to her male counterpart, like rotten pieces of candy that have gone sour.   “You think being a boy is any easier?"  The boy growls at the girl in front of him, his own eyes the same sickly shade of yellow.  "It is not any easier, if anything, it is harder!"    "Is not!"  The girl screams at him.  Before the boy’s eyes he can see more girls walking onto the stage, standing behind his female self.  Each girl wears the same face but manages to be different from one another.  One has cat ears and a tail, a mischievous look on her face as she giggles, actually letting out a playful meow.  Another is wearing a that’s much too small, the fabric doing a terribly job at keeping her breast in but she doesn’t seem to mind, too clueless to realize how much skin she’s revealing.  There’s a schoolgirl in the mix somewhere, wearing a pair of glasses and holding a pile of books, a shy expression peppering her cheeks in red.  The main girl in the group glares at him, "I have to be all of these things if I’m a girl!”   “And what about me?"  The boy whispers, several copies of himself walk on stage to stand behind him, "Am I cute?"  He asks, one of the boy stepping out of the group, giving the girls a sweet smile.  "Am I hot?"  Another boy steps up, raising his shirt just a little, enough to show a teasing glimpse of his stomach.  "Am I a bad boy this week?"  There’s another boy wearing sunglasses, jacket made of leather and every parent’s nightmare.     "So what,” says the girl, “That’s nothing!”   “Oh yeah?"  Then his eyes narrow, "Am I really dating a boy?  How do I feel about coming out to the world?  Have people been supportive of me?  How long have I known that I am gay?"  He’s shaking now, eyes a mix of frustration and sadness, "I cannot even be in a relationship with a boy without someone thinking I have an ulterior motive.  ‘Awwww, that’s so cute, he went off to be with his boyfriend,’ 'look at Naoto, taking a stand,’ 'oh please I bet it’s fake,’ 'he can’t be gay,’ 'he’s faking, it’s all an act.’”   The girl rolls her eyes, “At least you can have a relationship with a guy.  If it were me who had started dating I would’ve been labelled as a slut.  'Oh no, Naoto’s dating?  I wanted to be with her!’ 'This can’t be!’ 'Ugh, she’s such a tramp, gave up her career to be with some guy.’”   There’s a Naoto in the short skirt amongst the group of girls who moans at the words tramp and slut, licking her lips.  Her breasts are entirely too large and bounce every time she moves, her skirt so short that everyone can see the color of her panties.  The one dressed as a school girl blushes and looks away, glasses covering the shy look in her eyes.  She speaks up, voice soft and barely above a whisper, “Y-you should not date boys,” she says, “Y-you are much to young for-”   The large breasted Naoto laughs, “I’m with guys all the time, all I do is sleep around.  I don’t care who it is, either, I’ll do anyone.”   “That’s not true, honey,” says another Naoto, this one male with too much sass in his hips, “I don’t like girls at all, give me a handsome man any day!”   I just want to have the same rights as everyone else,“ another male one says, "I just want to be treated equally.”   The boy and girl Naoto continue to face off, their copies staying behind them like an army ready to attack.  The comments keep coming, blending into one another until all it creates is a buzz of liquid hot noise.    It continues on for what feels like an eternity, a Naoto Shirogane concert unlike any other.  The static comes to an end, the microphones silent as male and female stare each other down, breathless from their performance.  They both smile, oddly enough, and turn to face their audience, “So?  How was it?"  They ask together.   Standing in front of the stage she – he – feels a mix of emotions. Confusion what is this place and shock what did I just watch with a curdled feeling of dread as man and woman wait for an answer.  When they don’t receive one they speak again, together, joint voices hurting his – her – ears, "Which one is it?"    "Which… what?”   “Which one of us are you?"  They’re still speaking at the same time, "Which one of us is the real you?"    Eyes wide and full of uncertain tears Naoto shakes his – her, no his no her – head.  The other versions sneer, eyes yellow – so very yellow – as they wait.   Finally, he – no she, she, he! – speaks, "I-I… I do not know…”   “You have to know!”   “You have to decide!”   Naoto’s being surrounded by them now.  There’s the smirking one, the sad one, the shy one, the teasing one, the sexy one, the- “You have to decide,” they all say with a disturbing round of laughter.   Naoto shakes her – it, its, that’s what you say when you don’t know right?– head and covers its ears, “Leave me alone!  I do not know who I am!”   “You’re all of these things.”   “No!”   “You’re all of us.”   “No!!”   “She’s such a slut.”   “She’s such a tease.”   “He’s so cute!”   “Is that him with his boyfriend?”   “I bet it’s just a publicity stunt.”   “Shut up!"  Then Naoto lets out the damning cry as the lights fade into nothingness, "You’re not me!!!” *** Notes:  Random teaser thing done at work.  I have NO IDEA where this story is going, but this idea of the shadow battle was stuck in my head, and since it hasn’t be busy I had to write it.  So, thoughts?