Spring in Hokkaido.

Flowers crown the trees on the edges of the farms he pedals past. As the wheels on his bike whir they kick up dust, obscuring like the sun in his eyes; a hand doubles its duty to wipe off sweat before resting on his forehead. The farmers were up earlier than he— there they were, men rolling on in fancy American tractors spilling the seeds of the summer harvest.

He takes his attention off the bare fields, the shimmering lakes and the mountains in the distance and turns it to the new teacher. That’s right, there’s a new teacher that’ll be starting at the beginning of this term, fresh out of college and straight from Tokyo. What kind of person could that be, to go to a place considered career suicide before his career even started? Well. He will be finding out soon enough, he supposes. It’s best not to feel pre-emptive pity for people; it’s just another negative assumption.

And like that he rolls onto the main street with all the businesses, all the pavement. Today will be the first day he comes in for work.

He slows the bike in front of the small building. It is two unnecessary stories tall and much newer than the other buildings, and even then its white walls have been grayed by the soot and weathering of life. A dirty sneaker takes its place on the concrete; the bike’s wheels slow and then come to a stop. He walks it up the stairs like a reluctant mastiff and it is stored in the bike room.

Tsuyoshi sat in a rusty red pickup truck, dressed in his Sunday Best. With a bright look in his eyes, he watched as the mountains of Hokkaido passed him by. Trees, flowers, crops, and bushes of all kinds and colors popped up along the ride. Back at home in Shibuya, you could only find this variety of colors on young people in Harajuku or the neon signs at night. He couldn't help but smile at the sight. This was going to become a much familiar view for the fresh-faced teacher. He wouldn't wake up the sound of traffic and alarms, and spend his morning piling into a subway. He wouldn't get to pass by the coffee shop his friend worked at or fall asleep in his University's library. His days would be filled with his students and whatever Hokkaido had to offer him.

Suddenly, he was brought back to the present as a deep and rumbly voice spoke up. "Suzuki, are you alright, boy? You got quiet all of a sudden." Tsuyoshi turned his head, remembering he wasn't in this vehicle alone. Across from him was a much older man wearing a pair of beat-up glasses and work clothes, Tsuyo's landlord. The teacher's face reddened, momentarily lost for words. He cleared his throat and haphazardly pushed his hand through his hair, only making a further mess of it. "Sorry, Watanabe-san! It just hit me that I'll... be in Hokkaido for a while." Watanabe's brows unfurrowed and his gaze softened with an unspoken understanding. He let out a huff and put his attention back onto the road. "...Right."

Once they arrived in front of the main building, Tsuyo hesitantly stepped out. He was most definitely not in Tokyo anymore, but he was well aware of that now. With a deep breath and a smile, he steps through the doors.

He looks at the open doorway to the faculty room, noticing the footsteps despite being deep in conversation. In walks Watanabe-sensei and the newcomer. He knows that the former had leased a floor of his family’s building to the latter but he didn’t expect them to come in together, but the surprise is on him, he supposes, for doing so despite knowing the old man’s nature.

The teachers gathered by the water boiler pause in conversation to greet the two.

“Morning, Watanabe-sensei! And what’s this, fresh meat, eh?”

“Good morning, you two.”

“So you finally made it, Daizo! And with the new hire in tow. What’s his name again? Suzuki?”

He’s grateful to old man Kobayashi for bringing up his name.

“Good morning, Watanabe-sensei, Suzuki-san.” He bows to both of them, bending noticeably deeper than the others to the older Watanabe.

Watanabe ushers the newcomer, Suzuki, into the group to make introductions and he studies him. The first thing catching his eye is the suit, almost comically out of place among the rest of the teachers who are in more casual wear. Gym teacher Nakamura is even in slacks. It’s cute how hard he’s trying— it reminds him of his first teaching job in Sapporo, when he was just as fresh-faced though not as optimistic. His hair is messy and his skin tanned; the former is in noticeable juxtaposition with the black and graying heads of his coworkers. And yet Sugiyama’s still paler than him. It’s as if Suzuki’s vitality matches that of his hometown even more than he. There’s a mole under his left eye.

He lets these superficial details distract from the equally superficial conversation, half-listening only for an opening where he will inevitably have to interject.

"Good morning, everyone. It's good to see everyone in a good mood." Watanabe replies cheekily, a smug smile tugging at his mouth.
Tsuyoshi watches the seasoned seniors talk with a mixed expression. On his face, there's as much overwhelming excitement as there is anxiety, but he rides the backseat in the conversation while Watanabe banters with the other teachers. He makes sure to catch every face in the room, repeating their names in his head to remember. Then, he notices a younger face. But before he can form any impression, Watanabe gives him a hardy slap on the back.

"Go ahead, Suzuki, introduce yourself."

He holds in a squeak of surprise and quickly bows. His sudden movement causes his stiff collar to unfold, sitting awkwardly on his neck as he comes back up.

"R-Right! I'm Suzuki Tsuyoshi! It's a pleasure to meet all of you! I'm excited to be working together." Without thinking he holds up a peace sign, a habit he picked up during his college days. He quickly covers the peace sign with his other hand, balling them both up into a fist. He hoped it would put a quick end to any more embarrassing moves.

Watanabe looks at the staff member Tsuyo had noticed before. His weary eyes seem to light up with an idea. "Right. Sugiyama, you're still young and spry compared to all of us geezers here, hm? Why don't you get Suzuki properly settled in, then?"

The aforementioned Sugiyama nods at Watanabe. “Nn.”

He steps up to the new hire with a practiced smile and curt bow. “It’s nice to meet you, Suzuki-san. I’m Sugiyama, as Watanabe-sensei said. There’s Sato and Kato-sensei, Kobayashi-sensei, and Nakamura-sensei.” he gestures to each teacher respectively as he walks back to their cubicles; with them being the two newest additions to the already small faculty, their seats were right next to each other. There is an assortment of items on the new desk already, as Suzuki must have come in before to set up his belongings. He hadn’t paid attention to them, however.

“You might have toured the building already, but since I’m your mentor, if there’s anything you’re confused about, feel free to come to me.”

Suzuki bows to each teacher as Sugiyama names them off one by one. He trails after his new mentor, studying him from behind. Once they make it to their cubicles, his eyes light up with excitement. He runs his hands along the desk, flipping through the new planners and journals he was given. They are all blank and empty, but his head fills up with ideas of what he would get to fill them with. He turns to his coworker, the smile lingering.

"Right, of course. Thank you!"

He sets the notebooks back down, glancing at the desk beside his own.

"Is it normal to decorate your desks? I think mine could use a little personality." He quietly wonders if bringing some pictures from home would do the trick.

The faculty room here is far different from the one in Sapporo, the only other place he’s worked at so far. Because everyone has already stayed here for so long and knows each other, the environment is much more relaxed—Sato’s desk is populated with tea pets and one of those miniature waterfall sculptures. It perpetually sputters the little water allowed near so much paper, and its whirring is a calming constant in the room’s ambience. But this is Suzuki’s first school.

He looks at his own desk as Suzuki asks. It’s rather bare. But amongst the folders arranged neatly in their dividers are little origami cranes, among other gifts students have given him over the years. His lenient attitude—relatively, of course— and youth—again, relative— have certainly done wonders for his reputation among them. He takes one; it is red and spotted with white florets that have anthers of gold, and unfolds his hand in Suzuki’s direction.

This one had been made by Akai. Fitting, given her name, he thinks. She wouldn’t mind.

“Yeah. Here, if you want some decoration.”

Sugiyama's desk was interesting. It's difficult to be surprised or satisfied, since the two had just met, but something about the desk made sense. He must be some sort of traditonal guy. Who enjoys the simpler things in life. Or maybe he came from a long line of tea makers, and these all remind him of home. Or maybe the cranes on his desk are actually from an attempt to give himself luck after the love of his life caught a terrible illness... Just like that, Suzuki's mind was wandering again. He spent the night before falling asleep to a drama his mother reccomended to him. Maybe the change in his sleep scheldule was starting to get to him. Suzuki's attention is brought back as his new coworker reachers for one of the cranes. He looks up at Sugiyama, visibly touched by the gesture, though he knows it probably did not mean very much from him. But for the young teacher, this was something he was already planning to keep forever. He hesitantly takes the crane, studying it quietly. It was rather darling, the details in the paper drew his eyes in.

"Ah, jeez. Thank you, Sugiyama-san! I'll find you something to replace it soon..." He smiles warmly, cozing it up against his fresh stack of planners.

"Maybe, another tea pet?" He suggests, glancing at the crane on his desk with a sense of pride. A red crane on his first day? This must be some sort of good sign!

"No need. The tea pets are Sato's, anyway." He smiles perfunctorily before fully focusing on preparing the preliminary documents for the new students that year. Alongside his post of teaching both languages, he's also a homeroom teacher. It means that after the year starts, he'll start essentially living at school again. It's always something both to look forward to and to dread.