Flowers From 1970 (Chuuya ver.)

Chapter 1.4

It had been a week since Nakahara and Y/N had first started talking, And needless to say, They had become good friends. Y/N had started eating lunch up in his room, Awaiting a phone call around the same time everyday, And again with dinner in the night.

They talked about anything and everything, Including their childhoods and favorite things from their time. Nakahara had made Y/N promise not to look from him in 2020, or try to google him ("Whatever that was.") So Y/N kept her promise, And they continued to speak as if the only distance between them was miles, And not time.

"It's weird, We can't physically communicate. I mean we can but i'm assuming you're old." Y/N laughed.

"I have an idea." Nakahara said after a while. He left the phone on his dresser and told Y/N he'd back. Y/N waited patiently, Couting the many flowers on her wall, When he heard the faint voice come from the phone again.

"What's your idea?" Y/N asked, Turning to her side on the pillow.

"Go to the wall next to the window." Nakahara urged Y/N. Y/N groaned, Indicating her tiredness, But Nakahara insisted she'd go. Begrudgingly, he got up and walked to the wall next to the window as Nakahara told her to.

"Now what?"

Nakahara stood by the window. The walls where he was (in time) were much newer and intact than Y/N's. He had come from the shed with a bucket of orange paint. He pinned the phone between his cheek and shoulder and opened the paint can.

"Nakahara? What are you doing?" He heard Y/N ask.

"Just look at the wall." Nakahara said, As he took a brush and applied a thin coat of paint on his entire hand.

"Ready?" Nakahara said into the phone.

Y/N sighed, "Yes. Though i don't exactly know what i'm ready for." Y/N waited at the wall, Whistling. Suddenly orange paint started appearing on the wall, I was appearing slowly and a bit chipped and worn, but there nonetheless.

"Y/N? Are you there? I hope you see it and no one erased it after i moved out." Nakahara talked into the phone.

It was a handprint. A seemingly former orange handprint, (It was darker and faint now). Y/N stayed silent and absentmindedly put her own hand over the handprint. Nakahara's hand seemed bigger than her's, With slightly longer fingers.

"Y/N?" Nakahara called out, And Y/N pulled her hand away quickly.

"I- Yeah i see it." Y/N chuckled.

"Did you hold my hand?" Nakahara asked.

"Wh-i-ho-" Y/N choked out but Nakahara started laughing.

"Calm down, I'm kidding." Y/N could hear her smile, "I wonder what else we could try out."

Y/N sat down on her bed, Still looking at the paint handprint. "I wonder why you've never visited."

"What?" Nakahara questioned.

"Why future you hasn't visited me yet since we started talking. Like why you never came on July 29 to tell me you're who i'm talking to." George pondered curiously.

"Maybe i'm dead." Nakahara said, Half-jokingly. Y/N hated that thought. It was possible, And she fought back the urge to google him and find out everything she could about Nakahara, But the only information she had was that he lived here before, And Nakahara didn't want Y/N to go looking for him.

They big each other goodnight, And Y/N fell asleep on her side, Staring at the orange handprint on the wall.