You met him in the middle of summer. The sky and the color were blue. He would have said thank you to fate for bringing you to him.

He embellished his embarrassment with a joke, and he secretly thought that he would call you...only "forget-me-not." A blue and delicate sunflower.

It was fate that you had to part... he doesn't even know your name. All he can do is meet you on starry nights, right in his dreams.

Now he's standing in a phone booth, worried. His friends found your phone for him. He's dialing the number. The phone rings. He's thinking about how to start the conversation, "Hello, forget-me-not!" but then he dismisses the idea. He feels awkward calling you a forget-me-not, but he wants to do it and be the only one who can call you that.