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.