#─ 𝐴𝐵 𝐼𝑀𝑂 𝑃𝐸𝐶𝑇𝑂𝑅𝐸 𓍢 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 / KENJI. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

solavirtus · 2 months

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𝑳𝑼𝑪𝑬 𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑺... フジワラケンジ

( ryosuke yamada , nonbinary , he/them ) — the halls of verum academy is home to KENJI FUJIWARA, the twenty-seven year old student of elixirs. listen to the whispers that follow them through the door of the advanced elixirs classroom, the ones about straight posture, a metaphorical pin against your back, the weight of generations of khemia on your shoulders, whispers of your surname when you walk through the corridors, chest tight with the urge to make a name of your own, clashing with the expectations of your family. once they graduate, their legacy will be one that is adroit and independent in nature, but the records will not mention that they are known to be rebellious and rash, too. they are, after all, the future of verum. ╱ kira, twenty-five, she/her, gmt+3.

BIOGRAPHY ( cw child neglect, allusions to corporal disciplinary punishments )

the fujiwara name echoes through the halls of your three-story manor. uttered in the same vein as the history of khemia. a throne carved for you even before you are born. a life already set, everything you have to become laid in front of you. you don't need to think, just to follow that path. it's easy. it's supposed to be.

you want anything but to sit on that throne. despite the shackles around your limbs tying you down, you fight it with everything you can.

will you every break them? despite the hefty cost?

—

kenji is born with a silver spoon in his mouth. he spits it out at every chance. weight of generations upon his shoulders, a pin against his back at every turn. sit up straight. use the right fork. don't use those crude words. private tutors teaching him ancient languages, the history of khemia, as well as the history of his own family. expectations from his parents are drilled into him from the moment he learns how to speak. before he is given the chance to figure out who he wants to be.

both parents working high up within the government, he sees the help around the house more than his blood family. the nannies, the tutors. the housekeeper. a lot of people act to be on his side but mostly carry whatever he has done that day to his father: 'kenji was particularly stubborn today, failed his latin exam.' or 'his piano work was sloppy, he should train harder.' or 'he is a bright kid, just needs to study more'

learns from a young age that anyone who exists under his father's shadow, in his control, is never going to be on his side. the word 'father' rots in his mouth. a taste that he cannot wash away. no matter how much he tries. the distance includes his mother, who is somehow more absent than he is. whatever she says feels like an echo of the patriarch, the same knives that cut into the skin, leaving marks.

oil paintings of his grand-grandparents decorate the walls. he sees them every single day as he walks to his room. someone thrice-removed, a couple wearing an attire so old, he thinks they must be made up. they all look prideful, yet also look down on him in a way that reminds him how he cannot fill those shoes. how much he does not want to. 'look at who you are supposed to be. then look back into yourself.'

his affinity for magic comes to no one's surprise. there is no celebration or a pat on his back. not even a smile. only pursed lips and a vice grip on his shoulder. nails dig into the skin from the fabric of his robes. an order both loud and unspoken, to work even harder now. do better.

it's with him going to verum that he can break free even further from those shackles. while it posed to be more of a challenge when he spent so much time at home, he jumps at the idea of living in the school dorms. to leave his family, to become who he is beyond the legacy breathing down his neck.

rebels in every single way he can. dig his own claws in, lashes at every single expectation. it begins with his attire, the physical manifestation of who he really is. dark, messy robes versus the pristine ones with the fujiwara coat of arms. bulky and heeled boots, silver rings around his fingers, sounds of his belt buckles clanging with every step. he makes himself look large to feel as large as the world.

as the boy who seems to have everything: the wealth, the money, the fame — he forfeits it all whenever he gets the chance. regardless of the angry letters he receives at every turn, he tries to be true to himself. his choice of major: elixirs, is too common, too normal for the name— but his parents finally wrap their mind around it, framing it so to other families that it is a valiant line of work, especially with the war looming.

despite it all, he does enjoy khemia. spending hours cooped up in the library, in the elixir classrooms, injuries littering his arms from failed experiments. trying to come up with new concotions himself. he isn't a stellar student by any means, too mouthy, too defiant to listen to orders. though his talent and affinity for khemia show up in ways that he passes every class, knowing the subject matter by heart regardless of how much he can vex his professors.

what he does not expect is that he possesses rare magic. at an instance where he cannot stop the way anger and frustration claw up his chest, his notebooks and pens convulse on the table akin to an earthquake. once they fall down on the wooden floors of the library, there is no mistaking it.

it becomes a well-kept secret that he keeps close to his chest, not wanting this to be something else that defines him. knows that if his parents were to learn, they would be elated to show him off — claim that they have always known he was special, that it is of course fitting the fujiwara legacy.

the mere idea of that smug expression on their faces makes him lock the secret tighter. wows to himself to make sure they never learn.

it's a battle every day to figure out who he is, growing closer and closer to breaking those shackles. sometimes he thinks he has suceeded — until his father finds a way to pull him back into it. the angry letters from the man continue, despite it growing lesser in frequency. the fight in kenji remains, fire burning ever bright.

#─ 𝐴𝐵 𝐼𝑀𝑂 𝑃𝐸𝐶𝑇𝑂𝑅𝐸 𓍢 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 / KENJI.#verum:intro

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