The Little Girl, the Young Man, and Baked Sweets

One day in the Dancing Ocelot, Latina looked up at Kenneth and said, “Um, Latina would like to give Dale something so he can do his best at work.”

Those words alone would’ve likely been enough to knock that doting idiot Dale out. When Latina saw him off with her charming smile, that alone gave him more than enough vigor to take down the magical beasts he was tasked with subjugating, and he tended to demonstrate the restraining technique known as a “hug” on her. But for this serious young girl, words alone were not enough.

“Latina heard from the customers that when you’re tired, sweet things are extra tasty. Latina wants to make sweets.”

“Sweets, huh...?”

Dale didn’t usually choose to eat such things, but it wasn’t as if he disliked them. If he were to eat one from the young girl when he was feeling fatigued, it would surely restore his spirits.

The simplest sort of baked sweets just required measurement and mixing. If Kenneth lent her a hand, then Latina could surely handle that much.

“Well then, do you want to give it a try?”

“Yeah.”

Kenneth stood with Latina at his workstation, recalling the recipe in his head.

“And so, Latina gave me them to tell me to do my best. She’s amazing, right?”

Faced with his friend’s brimming smile, Gregor was unsure of what sort of expression to have on his face. This illness afflicting Dale, which had grown worse each time they met, had him baffled.

There was no other way to describe it but to say that he’d become a complete and utter doting idiot. The one saving grace was that Dale solely saw the girl as a daughter he wished to take care of. Gregor had no idea how he’d deal with him if Dale came out and told him he was into little girls.

“Here, this is your portion.”

“Is that alright?” Gregor asked, figuring his friend would want to keep every last crumb for himself. It seemed like he’d yell that out at any moment, so Gregor was worried about just what calamity would await if he accepted.

“I have to. I told Latina about you, so she said to give you some, too.”

So it wasn’t of his own free will. That explained things.

The sweets filled with dried fruit that Dale was putting into his mouth almost flauntingly were quite rich for preserved goods. However, it seemed like they had been cooked long enough that they were harder than your usual baked good, meaning they had been made with extended shelf life in mind. They were quite nicely done, so considering how young he’d heard the girl was, he was impressed at the skills of their maker.

While thinking about such things, Gregor went to remove the wrapping from his portion and realized that there were two layers. Finding this strange, he peeled back the outer sheet.

Inside was the message “Please take care of Dale” written in childish letters.

“I think I’d like to meet this girl, at least once.”

He recognized her earnest request was infused in the clumsy yet carefully written letters, and he felt like he’d grasped a fragment of what had made his friend become so doting. She seemed to be a truly kind young girl.

“I’d be alright with that, but you have to make sure you don’t end up under the spell of her cuteness! I won’t let anyone have Latina, even you!”

As he listened to his friend, Gregor opened the second wrapping and found the message “Sorry Dale is always troubling you” written there.

He felt an unspeakable bond with this young girl he’d never met.