Just Another Day for Archie

Dorm Room # ???, Higan Academy

Archibald awoke in a large and fancy bed. Accompanying him was a potent burst of soreness over most of his body that temporarily crippled him from movement. Archie distinctly remembered where each pang of painful disturbance came from, long since chiseling the mistakes and triumphs that led to these beatings and blows from his past deep into his mind. He clenched his jaw and let the agony silently rumble through him, knowing it would go away just like every other day. Soon enough a familiar and appreciated feeling of fuzzy and numbing static ran through his brain, his face, his back, his chest, and finally his aching limbs.

Now Archie could could complete his waking stretches properly. Every day that he was here in Japan, he still could never truly get used to waking within a bed that his large frame could actually fit in. Although he had been through and adapted to so much pain, he still held a silent thanks for not having to deal with the particularly annoying sensation of having his feet hanging off the edge of the bed.

He got up with a start, and began his morning routine.

One. Two. One. Two. One-Two. One-Two. One-Two. Left Upper. Right Upper. Left Upper. Right Upper. Left Hook. Right Hook. One-Two....

Archie continued his thoroughly drilled boxing maneuvers into a heavily reinforced punching bag for the next ten minutes. No tape over his hands, he would only use that stuff when he was prepping for an actual fight.

While his body continued moving all but automatically, Archie reminisced about a time when he could barely complete the intro of his current routine without keeling over with exhaustion and soreness from hyper-extended arms. When he spent the morning hanging bags of manure from the sprawling branches of oak trees in the rain and mud, flailing about trying to copy what he'd seen from the local boxers into the poor sacks of fertilizer.

Once Archie completed his routine and took a hot shower(man those felt nice), he put on his neatly folded Higan Academy Uniform. He always tried his best to wear as best as he could: no creases, no intentional unbuttoning, or even an uplifted collar in rebellion. As much as he usually failed at the task for various reasons, Archie didn't want to present himself as a delinquent or ruffian. He quite liked the novel feeling of being in "polite society", and felt that he needed to act as such in order to make his status feel earned and not the purely chance-based affair it truly was.

As Archie walked out of the door to make it to Higan Academy proper, another student with a large build just so happened to so at the same time.

This other student's Higan Academy was unbuttoned all the way down and worn like a loose raincoat. Clearly, this one didn't have the same reservations about fashionable presentation. While Archie's hair was slicked back in order to conform to the rules of boxing while keeping with his personal style, the other student's hair was shaved entirely, with the only notable facial hair being their large and angled eyebrows being held in an unchanging glare.

Although the two young men had clear differences in their bearing, they found quite a few similarities as they analyzed each other as fighters of their calibre tend to do on instinct. Both of their ears had long since swollen into the infamous "cauliflower" brought about by innumerable fights and blows to the head. Both subconsciously held their jaws just loose enough to speak but just tense enough to mitigate an incoming knockout blow. Both had their arms seemingly relaxed to their sides but ready to lash out in violence at any moment.

After their brief but insightful analysis, both briefly looked into each other's eyes and nodded towards each other in respect. Archie asked a question in his strangely accented Japanese before they went their separate ways.

"Mind if I get your name?"

"Nejima Ran, and yours?"

"Archibald Florence, You can call me Archie."

"So I shall Archie-san."

They both held a small smile of a warrior's appreciation as they walked away from each other. Although they both were attending Higan Academy, the clubs that they dedicated themselves to meant that they would seldom see each other outside of these brief morning interactions, if they happened at all.

Speaking of clubs, Archie had just made it to exclusive and fancy building of the Census club. Turns out all the members within it had some serious familial financing, whether it be Russian mobsters, ancient Chinese occultists, or a lovebird Japanese business tycoon, they all managed to pitch in a sizable chunk of dosh to make this place both safe and comfortable for their favored young adults that resided within. Though there was one that stood out as the leader of their gathering of spoiled rotten children.

Alyona, the lil' Russian mobster that both saved his ass and introduced him into the batshit insanity of the Idea World. Archie didn't bother to remember her other names, as trying to pronounce them in his head gave him a headache. She was the leader of their band of misfits, and made that clear with her every word and action. A young woman who both valued utilitarian function, and the subtle beauty of form. A true representation of the now somewhat out-of-style ideas of Soviet Russia (Archie wouldn't dare speak that particular blasphemy out loud).

Alyona notably spoke in English towards Archie in her greeting as he walked up to the Census Club door. A token of goodwill and respect.

"Tovarichi Archie, good to see that you have maintained your punctuality."

"I do try my best."

Tovarichi. A word through the miracle of the internet Archie discovered meant "comrade". Although Archie didn't really get the true cultural meaning of it, a true friend his age was something that he never had. Alyona liked to style herself as his boss and Archie her subordinate, a status that Archie didn't really care to change. She was someone that unconditionally cared about him, someone that was always in his corner asides from his parents. It was a comforting fact that lit a fire of warmth in his stomach, even if she truly was a stubborn little commie git sometimes.

Archie gave a toothy smile towards his "boss". Though that smile was soon turned deadpan neutral as Alyona handed him a large stack of papers within a plastic file that looked about ready to burst.

Alyona gave a little giggle and had a smug expression upon her face.

"You know we do have a job to do in the Census Club outside of supernatural combat, right Tovarichi Archie?"

".....Aye boss-lady...."

As much as Archie abhorred mundane work ,the guise that Alyona used to establish a foothold in Higan Academy did require certain duties. Such as cataloguing the various financial goings-ons of the various clubs that made up Higan Academy's academic ecosystem.

It was truly brilliant, a way to immediately gain access to vital data, establish an impression of goodwill, and of course in true Communist fashion fuck around with numbers to take money from people they didn't like (namely the Student Council).

The downside? An absolute assload of paperwork for everyone involved.

Archie walked into the Census club building proper. Much like it's leader, the interior design of the Census Club was a neatly synergized combination of optimized utilitarian space combined with various aesthetically pleasing decorations that didn't disturb and instead enhanced the rooms within.

Though there was one isolated corner of the building that broke this trend entirely. Archie learned a while back to suppress the inevitable cough or gag that came from smelling the various combinations of burning incense. It was different every single day, and Archie still had no clue how the young woman inside had acquired so many different foul smelling concoctions.

Speaking of the young woman in question, Renka Cho was in exceptionally "goth" clothing (at least from what Archie could tell) and currently grumbling about her stack of papers.

Archie donned a sardonic smirk.

"Can't magic yourself out of this can you Renka?"

Renka mock glared at Archie.

"I have tried."

"And failed."

The mock glare intensified, though there was the slightest tint of a smirk on her face as she continues looking through the financial documentation.

"I will continue to try."

"And continue to fail. There are three constants in life Renka: Love, Death, and Paperwork."

"It's taxes, Archibald."

He knew that she called him that just to piss him off. He didn't care.

All three of the misfit foreigners joined together in their constant ribbing of one another. It was how they knew they cared about each other.

Then, after spending a solid half hour sorting through financial documents, they went to school proper with the promise of several hours of paperwork afterwards.

Edit

Pub: 04 Sep 2025 21:05 UTC

Edit: 05 Sep 2025 19:58 UTC

Views: 27