Copyright, Aviatrix8, 2015. Kill la Kill and all related characters are property of Trigger, and are used without permission.


Warning for very mild shoujo/shonen ai overtones. (I honestly think it's not that bad, but thought I'd mention it anyways.)


Kill la Kill fanfic:

"Measuring Time"

by Avi

"I am Iori Shiro. I am to be the president of Honnouji Academy's Sewing Club. I am also the one who will be sewing your Goku uniforms out of Life Fibers."

The reactions of the four teenagers seated before Iori ranged from boredom to genuine interest.

Iori adjusted his glasses. "Naturally, I will be tailoring your uniforms to suit each of your unique abilities... But first, I will be needing measurements from all of you." Iori glanced at the clipboard he was carrying.

"First on the list is... Gamagori, Ira."

The massive man-student lifted himself out of the chair he was sitting in, and followed Iori into his office.

Iori closed the door behind them. "Now... Gamagori, is it? I'll need you to remove all your clothes for a proper fitting. There's a screen over in the corner you can use."

Gamagori nodded, and headed behind the screen, which was hardly adequate for a man of his stature.

Iori turned away, for decency's sake. Hmmm, fitting him is going to be a challenge, he thought, but not impossible. Still, the amount of Life Fibers I'm going to need for his uniform is going to be staggering; I better put a special request in to Lady Satsuki...

"I'm ready," said a voice behind Iori.

"Very well, then," said Iori, turning around. "Let's get started - OH MY GOD!"

"What's the matter?" asked Gamagori.

"What's the matter?!" exclaimed Iori, averting his eyes. "You're not wearing any underwear, man!" Good God, I did not need to see that, not first thing in the morning!

"But I never wear underwear. And you told me to take off my all clothes."

Iori looked around frantically for something, anything, to cover up... That. Finally, he spotted something.

Iori pointed to his sewing table. "There's a bolt of fabric over there you can use. For the love of God, please cover yourself!"

Gamagori shrugged and headed over to grab the fabric. "I don't see what the problem is... We're both men, aren't we?"

I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm not half the the man you are, Gamagori, thought Iori with a grimace, as he shielded his eyes. "Just wrap yourself in that cloth, will you?"

It took the entire bolt of cloth, but finally, Gamagori's naughty bits were covered to Iori's satisfaction. The tailor then pulled out his measuring tape and began measuring in earnest.

I have to remember to throw away that cloth when we're done, thought Iori, and sighed. I just hope the rest of these fittings won't be this troublesome...


"So you're the one who's going to be sewing our Goku uniforms, huh?" Sanageyama held his arms out to his sides, as he stood in his fundoshi.

"Uh huh," replied Iori non-committally, as he held his measuring tape against Sanageyama's arms. He didn't like talking during fitting sessions.

"Well, I'd like spikes on my uniform."

Iori blinked. "Spikes?"

"Yeah, spikes. Big ones." Sanageyama grinned. "Anywhere you can put them, really."

"I'll think about it." Iori slung his measuring tape over his shoulder. Well, somebody is compensating for something, he thought to himself. And considering these measurements, I'm pretty sure I know what...


"Watch the hands, watch the hands!" complained Jakuzure.

"Yes, Jakuzure."

"And you'd better not be ogling my underwear, Forehead Boy."

"Of course not, Jakuzure." Iori's dour expression did not change, as he continued measuring.

Iori had always got the impression that Jakuzure didn't like him, though he was not quite sure why. Not that she treated anyone else much better (with the sole exception of Lady Satsuki). Still, he had learned long ago to let Jakuzure's poisonous barbs just slide.

"So... When is Lady Satsuki's getting her measurements done?" asked Jakuzure. Though her tone sounded casual, Iori could detect a note of eagerness in her voice.

"I've already taken Lady Satsuki's measurements," he replied.

"Oh." Jakuzure's voice fell flat. She then brightened up again.

"I don't suppose you could schedule our fittings to be at the same time next time, hmmm Iori?" asked Jakuzure, her voice poisonously sweet. "Since we've all known each other for so long..."

"I always schedule all my fittings separately," said Iori bluntly, "regardless if the client is male or female."


Iori ignored Jakuzure as she glared daggers at him, and continued his measurements.


Last measurements of the day, thank God, thought Iori to himself. Though this one didn't promise to be a chore...

Iori stared at the boy with the blue hair and glasses, who stood calmly before him in his boxers.

Tall, slim, with long limbs, and a well-proportioned torso... A tailor's ideal model, really; there was a reason why fashion designers liked their models to be tall and skinny, after all. Iori had a feeling he was going to enjoy designing clothing for this guy...


Iori looked up, startled.

"Could we get on with it? It's rather drafty in here."

"Er, right. Inumuta is it?"

The other boy nodded.

"Let's get started then." Iori pulled out his measuring tape. He hoped Inumuta hadn't gotten the wrong idea from his staring. It was just professional admiration, that's all. Totally professional.

The fitting started off pretty well; Inumuta stood still and kept quiet, which Iori greatly appreciated, after all the trouble with the other fittings today. But, after a while, he thought he could hear the distinct sound of snickering coming from Inumuta.

Iori stopped measuring and looked up at Inumuta. "What's the matter?"

"It's nothing. Go on."

Iori looked suspicious, but continued on with his measuring... That is, until he heard Inumuta let out a definite chuckle.

Iori dropped his measuring tape in annoyance. "Okay, what's so funny?"


"That was not nothing! Are you laughing at me?"

"No, of course not."

"Then what's up with you?"

Inumuta blushed, which caught Iori off guard. Inumuta didn't look like the type who would get embarrassed easily.

"It's just that... I happen to be ticklish, that's all," admitted Inumuta.

Ticklish, huh? thought Iori. Well, at least that explains all the laughter...

Iori sighed. "Okay, where are you ticklish then? I'll try to avoid touching you there."

"Um..." Inumuta looked sheepish. "I'm ticklish... Everywhere, actually."

Iori groaned.


"What a day..." Finally alone in his office, Iori flopped into a chair and pulled off his glasses.

"So that was Lady Satsuki's Elite Four, huh?" murmured Iori to himself. Not what he expected, that's for sure. "What a bunch of weirdoes." Not that he was one to second-guess Lady Satsuki, but...

Iori shook his head. Of course he shouldn't second-guess Lady Satsuki. Besides, he had also read the dossiers Lady Satsuki had given him on the Elite Four, and knew each one of them to be very capable in their field... They just didn't seem so, in person.

To be honest, Iori was a bit jealous of all of them. The Elite Four had the privilege of fighting for Lady Satsuki, and protecting her... While the only way he could aid her was by sewing Goku uniforms.

But for that reason alone, he would sew his heart out for each and every one of them... All for Lady Satsuki's sake.


Inspiration for this came from a comment on Tumblr about Iori getting annoyed at Inumuta for being ticklish during measurements, and I just had to throw in the rest of the Elite Four as well. (The other inspiration is watching way too much Project Runway...)