there's gotta be some way to be normal about this. like... not showing up at all? his absence belies just how much he's beleaguered over the day: chocolates seemed too romantic, (too fast, too soon!) the likes of a plush seemed inconvenient, (what if she only ended up throwing it away...?) and artoria, at least for as far as he felt, wasn't exactly one for little baubles like priceless jewels.
in the end, it comes down to a tin shaped like a rustic thatched cottage, and over a dozen fairy tale decorated butter cookies waiting on the inside. cinderella's glittering dress and sprinkled slippers, the frog prince, castles and knights, pumpkin-carriages and spinning wheels, mouthwatering and decadent. for a clumsy child, daisuke's handwriting remains an impressively elegant script, attached to one of dark's usual blank cards on the top of the tin.
「happy valentines, artoria-san! 」... he hasn't even bothered to sign his or dark's name at the end, though the awkward, inky blotch implies there might have been more on his mind before he left the cookies for caster to find.
Of course Caster knows. How could she not? That Daisuke is head over heels. His eyes are honest; his feelings leap out at her whenever their gazes meet. That's really... really, the worst part of Fairy Eyes. A part of her wants to disappear from it, shrink away, but that's cruel. It'd be better never to mention it at all. ...Is what she expects to think, but the truth is, definitely, she wanted to believe she could be loved. That something like this could be real. A fairy-tale of her own. That part of her grows and grows by the day, taking root in her heart, a sun shining on that part of her that wants to run; dragging her out of her hiding place, drawing her closer and closer despite her fears and reservations.
Caster holds a small boxed chocolate against her chest. It's not something nearly as wonderful as Cnoc na Riabh's famous chocolates, nor as decorated or fancy as some of the others she's seen Servants give others. It makes her a bit self-conscious, rather... no, she wants to believe something like this could be taken well. "I wanted it to be simple," she mumbles to herself, staring at the box again: light pink, wrapped in a silver ribbon. "Caren-sensei helped me enormously... I came this far, too... So, I'll put my best foot forward!"
When she approaches Daisuke's room, however, the door is already open, though he doesn't seem to be there. There is a lovely tin, instead, addressed to her; she picks it up tenderly and opens it to see the cookies inside. There are all sorts of shapes inside... Some look like Tristan's shoes, others like castle Camelot, and still others like Habetrot's wheel or Melusine's armor. There is a softness to them, though, a dreamlike quality, and shapes and symbols she doesn't recognize. "These must be... Proper Human History's stories?..." Maybe from a television show, or a book she hasn't read? If Daisuke were here, she would love to have him explain each one's significance to her, but for now, she closes the tin and puts it back down.
Anyway, there's a card on top. She picks it up, reads it, and smiles, stifling a laugh. She can feel the anxiety leaking through the lettering. It gives the ink a sparkle, like a river when the sun hits it right. She turns the note over, steals a pen, and jots,
Dear Daisuke: I'll be waiting for you at the simulator, when the clock strikes two. Best wishes, Artoria Caster.
"That ought to do it... Hopefully he's not mad at me for sneaking into his room. Present them to me properly, Daisuke." Caster clutches her chocolates to her chest and makes her escape, giggling childishly to herself, feeling hardly weighed down at all.
