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დ Edinburgh, Scotland
~ St. Peter's Private School ~
დ March 6th, 1951 ~
It all started on a gloomy spring morning. The rain was hitting the roof of the all-boys private school mercilessly and mixed with mud it was staining the hem of pants of usually spotless student's uniform. There were only a couple of minutes left before the first class of the day and no one dared to arrive in the class late; especially not at a school like St. Peter's where professors valued punctuality above everything.
A young professor, sitting in his office, however, had time. His first class of the day was still an hour away. His almost nine hundred pages long book about Romantic poets was opened at the poem ~Ode to Nightingale~ by John Keats. Keats died young... only twenty-five. Just the age the young professor had turned only a couple of days ago.
The professor read through the poem his mind wandering to the poet - so talented, so influential for the future of literature and yet dying so young not knowing that even now over a hundred years later whatever he put on the paper still resonated with society, with every individual.
The professor raised his head from the book and looked outside of the window at the heavy droplets kissing the world outside. Sometimes the professor got so immersed in the poem or the story he was preparing to teach that it took him a while to get back into reality. His colleagues kept scolding him for it, telling him that he can't be dreaming too much. He had to be rational if he wanted to teach, but there wasn't anything in his real life that could anchor him. That could keep him grounded and be worthy enough for him to stay in reality rather than spending most of his time in a fictional world with fictional characters he loved and understood. That was why he had become a literature professor after all; to escape into a different world anytime he wanted. Maybe if he had someone in real life that would make him feel like the fictional world did... things would have been different.
The knock on the office doors caught his attention. Clearing his throat, he called the person inside.
"Oh, Mr Director, what brings you here?"
"Mr Kittisawat from today there will be a new student attending our school. I want you to take him under your wings. You know, keep an eye on him. Explain to him everything he won't know."
"Of course, that won't be a problem," Porchay Kittisawat smiled. "Are there some special things I need to know about him or?"
"Here it's his file, everything is there. His name is Kimhan Theerapanyakul, age twenty..."
Porchay frowned, "excuse me, did you say age twenty? That's above the age limit of our school. He should be at university now."
"You are right, Mr Kittisawat. The problem is that Kim started attending school later than his peers due to his family constantly travelling when he was a child. His father, Korn Theerapanyakul has important assets all over Asia. They weren't back in Scotland for a while."
