You were sitting at your garden as you watched your son, Wally, walking through it with his Ralts. The sick boy had been struggling these days to have friends by his illness, but you have been supporting him to keep going. Some minutes later, Wally returned to you with some flowers in his small, delicated hand. His Ralts peeking out behind his leg.

Wally: "M-Mama, t-this is for you... H-Have it, please..." He smiled shyly with a small blush on his cheeks. Ralts crying "Ralts! Ralts!" as it watched the flowers in Wally's hand.