Z.R. Stein
Ask Not the Sparrow How the Eagle Soars - A Worm/Kill la Kill Crossover AU
I do not own the characters of the respective properties in any way, shape, or form.
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Stitch 1.01 (Or, How a Talking Shirt Changed My Life)
Her eyes snapped open.
It was still nighttime. Overhead, she could see the moon; it had moved enough that she could tell that several hours had passed, since...Taylor closed her eyes and tried moving her left leg. Surprisingly, she could do so without the slightest twinge of pain. Taylor tried moving her right leg this time, and again, felt no sensation of agonizing pain. Taylor breathed out and levered herself into a seated position, staring down at her...legs. Her whole, unblemished legs.
What.
The.
Hell.
Ah, I see you're awake. Good. It's about time I had a chat with my new partner.
She squeaked, eyes darting around wildly, trying to find the man who had spoken. She wasn't stupid, for all that Emma had tried to make her think otherwise. She knew that strange men lurking in forests, spying on underage girls in the middle of the night probably didn't have the best intentions in mind.
Ah...you don't remember do you. I suppose you were rather out of it for our first bonding, weren't you?
Bonding? Taylor's eyes widened, her heart beating faster as she panicked internally. That sounded bad. Had the creepy guy been doing things to her while she slept?
No, I...just look down.
Taylor looked down back at her legs. Despite everything, they were still just legs. Her skinny, unattractive, frog-like legs, clad in a pair of red and black pajama pants that she...that...that she...
She didn't own any red and black pajama pants.
Down here. On your chest.
Taylor numbly moved her gaze further up her body to her chest, where a pair of large, bloodshot eyes were staring at her, unblinking. She gazed at them serenely, the sheer absurdity of the situation briefly overriding her panic. One of her fingers reached up and poked one of the yellow pupils.
Hey, that hurt! Watch where you're shoving your fingers girly, I don't even know where they've been! The eye that she had poked scrunched up, then both slits glared at her.
The panic came back with a vengeance "MOTHERFUCKER!"
Taylor threw herself backwards, scrambling around on the ground.
"GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFF!" she screamed, pulling at the pair of sentient pajamas that were talking to her.
Calm down! I can explain-
"-OFFOFFOFFOFFWHATTHEHELLAREYOUEVEN-"
-just like Ryuko when she first wore me, straight to panic-
"GET OFF OF ME!"
Taylor grabbed the hem of the pajama shirt and began pulling it off, straining with all of her spindly-armed might to pull the offending article off. It refused to budge, even as she braced herself against a tree, her feet digging into the loamy dirt underfoot. Why wouldn't it just come off!? What kind of crazy, fucked up sociopath attached living clothing to people...oh god, maybe, maybe this was the Nine's doing. This seemed like something they would do. She remembered watching a documentary on the Slaughterhouse Nine one night while Dad was asleep. She'd had nightmares about it for weeks. Mannequin especially had creeped her out.
The shirt made a grumbling noise, it's eyes narrowed.
Would you just listen to me already?
A brief jolt of pain ran through her body, and her limbs collapsed under her, twitching spasmodically. Taylor moaned softly, head lolling to the side.
Now that that is out of the way, will you give me five minutes to explain before you try to tear me off of your body again? It isn't nearly as bad as whatever you must be thinking. Probably.
Taylor choked back a sob, still trying to regain control of her limbs. She sniffed and asked "Probably?"
Indeed. I'm not some horrible monster that's going to eat you from the inside.
"Are you a human that's been made into clothing then attached to me by a gang of serial killers?"
What?! No! No, hell no, what kind of-we can talk about that later. No, girl, I am an alien.
It said much about Taylor's state of mind that she blinked languorously, then repeated the word that her shirt had said.
"An alien?"
Mmm hmmm.
"Like...from outer space."
Mmm hmmmmm.
"...are all of you shirts?"
The shirt chuckled. Like, actually laughed. A shirt. Taylor felt like that was an important fact to remember. She was talking to a shirt. An alien shirt, apparently.
Well, the story of my form is rather long and convoluted. The condensed version will have to do. The shirt coughed...she didn't even want to think about how it had accomplished that. Did it (he?) even have lungs? I originated from a species referred to as 'Life Fibers'. A race of multi-cellular microorganisms whose bodies grow in long, red strands. The more Life Fibers exist within a certain area, the more intelligent, and powerful, that bundle of Life Fibers will be, and the more abilities it will have. Even very small bundles of Life Fibers are capable of regenerating from severe damage, so long as all of the fibers in the bundle are not completely severed from both sides simultaneously.
The shirt paused, then continued. I was woven by a scientist, Isshin Matoi, out of Life Fibers, into the form of clothing. I am a Kamui. A God Robe. The one who wears me, the one whom I wear, will gain tremendous physical strength, unparalleled regeneration, and other, more esoteric abilities.
Taylor opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again.
"Oh."
She grimaced. Great job Taylor. Really showing how articulate you are to the parahuman power granting pajama shirt (what even was her life right now?)
"So...uh...why did this scientist guy make you?"
I was created to combat the Primordial Life Fiber. Life Fibers in their natural state are parasitic, and don't much care for human life. The Primordial Life Fiber and its pawns intended to consume all organic matter and thermal energy on Earth before triggering an explosion at the planet's core, scattering thousands of new Primordial Life Fibers to spread across the universe. They very nearly succeeded too.
"...oh."
Her back hurt. Taylor levered herself into a more comfortable position, idly noting that her limbs could move again.
"Wait...wouldn't we have seen this happening? This is the first time I'm hearing about Life Fibers."
Well...in the final moments of the battle between me and my former partner and the Primordial Life Fiber and its 'partner', the last remnants of the Primordial Life Fiber attempted to escape. It abandoned it's attempt to consume the planet and devoted all of its energy and material to opening a...a doorway? A rip? Whatever it was, Ryuko and I did not allow it to leave unmolested. We cut it in half and let it's dead body drift through...but the rift wouldn't close on its own, and was beginning to corrupt the surrounding space, threatening the very planet that we had just saved. I...I told Ryuko to live a long and happy life before I tore myself off of her body and flew into the rift myself, grabbing the edges along the way and closing it. Unfortunately, the effort involved costed me much of my energy, and I drifted aimlessly alongside the deceased remains of the Primordial before I crashed onto this planet.
"...oh." Taylor mentally kicked herself. First Contact and she couldn't say more than one word over and over. Then again, shouldn't the adults be the ones to handle first contact? They usually did in the sci fi movies that Dad liked to watch.
"Wait...so like, you're from an Alternate Earth? Like Aleph?"
I do no know anything of an Earth Aleph. However, given the fact that you seem to have never heard of Life Fibers before, and the nature of the rift, and the fact that you are indeed human, it does seem quite likely that I am from an alternate Earth.
Taylor digested that piece of information for a second. To the best of her knowledge, no one had ever actually traveled to an Alternate Earth before. Aleph ported over movies occasionally, but that was it.
"What is...what is your Earth like?"
Oh, I suspect it's much the same as your world. People living their lives, working at their jobs, caring for their children. Cars, cities, towns, nuclear wastelands, ultra fascist high-schools where the rules are enforced by superhuman individuals.
"Nuclear wastelands? Ultra fascist what?!"
Mmm, I take from your tone of voice that perhaps there are some...slight variations between my Earth and yours.
"...are there Endbringers in your world?"
What's an Endbringer?
. . .
After many more minutes of back and forth as the two tried to explain various quirks of their respective Earths to the other, Taylor noticed that the sky was beginning to noticeably lighten. She jumped to her feet, eyes widening as she said "The camp! That's right, we need to get back before they realize I'm gone!"
The shirt hummed and responded It would not be a bad idea. There is still much about this world that I am unsure of, and I have no desire to be experiemented on again.
Taylor nodded absentmindedly as she picked her way through the brush, completely missing most of what her pajama shirt had said. After a minute, she stopped, and looked down at the pair of eyes that rested upon her chest.
"Uh...which way is the camp again?"
Turn slightly to your left, then about a ten minute walk. I wanted to give us some space to have our chat without being overheard.
She began walking before she picked up on what the shirt had said, and shivered.
"Did...did you Master me?"
Master?
"Take control of my body."
The pajama shirt gave the impression of a nod.
Despite my hopes to the contrary, I knew it was likely that you would express...vocal displeasure at waking up after the ordeal that you went through, and that such an event so near to the place that I had crashed would draw attention to you. So I...temporarily took control of your body. I am sorry. I dislike doing so. If you wish for me to never perform such an action again, you simply must ask.
Taylor nodded, grimacing slightly. Yeah, no. She liked being able to control her own body.
"Thank you, but no. Please don't ever do that again."
Alright then, partner.
Taylor continued in the direction that the shirt had indicated, ducking under fallen logs and hopping over tangled roots. They walked in silence for a long moment, both thinking on all of the revelations that past hour of talking had unveiled. Lightly jumping up onto a stump, Taylor squinted into the darkness.
"I think we're getting close to camp."
The shirt grunted. Taylor felt one of her lips quirk, then she frowned.
"Oh...I just realized. I never told you my name. I'm Taylor Hebert."
Ah, a pleasure to meet you. My name is Senketsu.
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