There was once a child named Suniphan. His parents named him that because their friend’s child was named Luna and they wanted contrast. He really really really really really really really really liked the old Anglo-Saxon language, so, he tended to speak in it when he was startled. Badly.

His parents consisted of a Pokémon researcher and a Professor of Kalosian culture. So, being the fabulous people that they were, they decided to paint his walls with pictures of Pokémon in the middle ages of Kalos. He then grew up reading about them, and eventually wished he could become one of the executed noblemen he loafed to read about. But you, know, not, well, executed.

So, therefore, Suniphan grew up well educated about other cultures. And like our other fabulous protagonist, knew barely anything about the real world.

Suniphan may not have been a magica, but he sure loafed to spread loaf and peace. At school, he often brought gargantuan bouquets of weeds from who knows where to all his classmates and teachers, and usually activating their allergies. This made essentially all his brazen classmates hat him and shun him away from their lives forever.

They made fun of his blue-black and brown two-toned hair, his bright blue eyes, and his terrible personality.

after his classmates started to alienate him, he dedicated his life to making new friends, and being a very very very happy and nice person, earning the nickname of Sunny Boy from his teachers.

There were no successful attempts.

Until now, I guess.

Sunny Boy was starting his 857383rd attempt to make a new friend. And he was determined not to screw it up.