#ira ask

Riddle Roseheart

Riddle had been observing Yuu ever since she joined their world. Polite, a little too calm in chaos, surprisingly articulate, and absurdly poised for someone who got isekai’d without warning. But he start to observe more closely and notice something about her...

The way she reached for a teacup and tilted it precisely 45 degrees before setting it down. Her manners when eating dessert with not a single crumbs or mess in the plate. She moved like someone who attended etiquette classes at five and never forgot a single lesson.

Riddle blinked.

Then Yuu adjusted the cutlery with muscle memory spacing each fork and knife exactly 1 inch apart. She even angled the dessert spoon toward the center of the table setting like it was a black-tie dinner and corrected Trey’s plating without looking.

“...Yuu.”

“Yes?” she turned, casually tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, an elegant gesture that seemed choreographed.

“Why... do you know which direction the dessert fork is supposed to face?”

She paused. “Oh. Habit.”

Riddle squinted. “What kind of habit?”

She smiled enigmatically. “My... father was a stickler for presentation especially for the dinner parties. You either learn fast or get stabbed by a salad fork.”

Riddle opened his mouth. Closed it. “...What kind of dinner parties did you attend?”

“The usual kind, of course. You make it sound like you never attend one before.” she said offhandedly, reaching over to adjust the teapot so the handle faced the correct side. “This teapot is lovely, by the way. Is it Wedgwood?”

Riddle didn’t even know what Wedgwood was, and suddenly he felt like the peasant in a royal court. Yuu, meanwhile, cheerfully folded the napkins into swans without instructions like she just playing around.

Trey Clover

Yuu decide to offer some help for Trey in the kitchen to bake some of the cakes since the next party is soon. Trey happily agree.

“Can you hand me the vanilla?” Trey asked, not looking up as he whisked the batter.

Yuu passed him the bottle without looking at the label.

Trey paused mid-stir. “Wow, that was fast. How’d you know which one?”

Yuu tilted her head. “The scent. That one’s Madagascar vanilla. You use Tahitian when you want floral notes.”

“…You can tell that just from smell?”

“Of course,” she replied simply, as if everyone could.

Trey blinked, then went back to stirring. A minute later, he handed her a tray of strawberries. “Could you slice these?”

Yuu rolled up her sleeve and picked up the paring knife with the ease of someone who had practiced under a chef’s gaze and sliced each strawberry at a 30-degree angle, creating uniform little fans. Not a single jagged edge.

Trey leaned over with amazement. “You’ve done this before?”

She didn’t look up. “I used to help with some dinner night especially when we hosted charity balls. Dessert was expected to be both delicious and photogenic.”

“…Charity balls?”

Yuu blinked innocently. “Doesn’t everyone attend a few growing up?”

Trey narrowed his eyes. “Not unless you’re secretly nobility.”

“Oh, I’m not,” she said with a small smile. “Technically.”

Technically??

They moved on to assembling mini tart shells. Trey glanced over again — Yuu was plating the tarts in a perfect crescent shape, spacing them like she’d studied food symmetry under some high class pattisiere. And she was doing it absentmindedly, like she was used to catering it.

Trey coughed. “You sure you’re not from some high society family back home?”

Yuu, still focused on placing mint leaves, shrugged. “Depends on your definition of ‘high society.’”

And then she tossed a dish towel over her shoulder in one smooth, practiced motion. The way celebrity chefs do it.

Trey stared.

“…Yuu, be honest. Were you raised in a mansion?”

She looked at him. “....What with that question?”

Cater Diamond

Cater is bored and decide to dragged Yuu along to help him take selfies and set up a cute outdoor tea aesthetic for Magicam. Oh, he is on surprise.

“Okay, Yuu~! Just hold the teacup and smile like you're on a yacht in Sage’s Island. Real soft-girl vibes, y’know?” Cater said, grinning as he arranged the camera angle.

Yuu nodded and adjusted the cup in her hand but instead of a casual pose, she tilted her wrist delicately, raised her chin just slightly, and looked away from the camera with a natural, far-off expression.

Click.

Cater checked the photo — and froze.

“…Okay hold up. Why does this look like a luxury magazine ad??”

Yuu blinked. “I thought you wanted soft-girl vibes.”

“Girl, that is old money vibes. That’s heiress being silently judged by a duchess energy.”

“Oh,” Yuu replied, gently plucking a rose petal off the tablecloth without wrinkling the fabric. “Force of habit.”

Cater watched as she adjusted her posture, this time back straight, ankles crossed, wrist relaxed like she’d done this her whole life. When she poured tea for him, she twisted the pot just slightly at the end to avoid a drip. Not a splash. Not a tremble.

She even stirred counterclockwise. With silent wrist control.

“…Yuu, have you… modeled before?”

Yuu thinking about it for a moment before answering “Not officially., I think?"

“But you pose like you’ve been trained.”

“Maybe because I grew up attending press events and charity galas. You know how the media can be wild sometimes...” She said it casually, like someone would say “So, I had to make sure no bad picture is taken, y'know.”

Cater sat back with a plop. “Wait wait wait—what kind of galas?”

“Depending on the host? It can be a masked gala, it can be some beach theme gala, or-”

Cater stared at her flabbergasted hearing Yuu answer and glanced at his phone. The photos they took looked like editorial spreads. Yuu hadn’t smiled big once, just refined, natural grace like she’d been groomed to run a Fortune of 500 company like that.

“…Are you, like, secretly a princess or something?”

She chuckled softly. “Maybe”

Ace Trappola

At Heartslabyul lounge, late evening. Ace, Yuu, and Deuce are hanging out after chores. Ace brought snacks and Yuu brought tea. Everything seems normal at the first glance until he notice Yuu mannerism when drinking tea.

“Yo, Yuu,” Ace says with a grin, tossing a cookie in his mouth, “you always drink your tea like that? All slow and fancy?”

Yuu glances at her teacup that held daintily between her fingers, pinky slightly curled, saucer balanced on her other hand. “Like what?”

“Like you’re judging the peasants for breathing too loud.”

Yuu blinks and shrug. “I’m not judging anyone. That’s just… how I hold a cup.”

Ace snorts. “Man, even your shrugs look expensive.”

Yuu just smiles and takes another sip (no slurping and no clinking). Then she calmly reaches into her bag and pulls out a folded handkerchief, dabbing the corner of her mouth with the precision of someone trained to be photographed by tabloids mid-meal.

Ace leans toward Deuce. “Bro, who carries a real handkerchief at this age? Like… on purpose?”

Deuce whispers, “Maybe she’s part of a noble family?”

Yuu, still listening but pretending not to, crosses one leg over the other — knees angled perfectly, posture straight. And then she says, calmly, “The table here’s a little uneven and that candle would look better if you shift it 3 centimeters left. It’ll balance the symmetry.”

Ace stares.

“Wait. What?”

Yuu then continue looking around Heartslabyul interior. “I used to work with interior designers. So, this kind of things came naturally”

Ace tries not to choke on his cookie. “What are you, an architect??”

She turns to him with a casual smile. “I had lessons in visual arts, floral arrangement, and spatial etiquette. I also helped plan formal galas for ambassadors. So yes… maybe I can also be called architect?”

Ace makes a noise like a dying fish.

“…Okay but words of advice, Yuu-chan. Since you are new to this world, you shouldn't just go around acting like you own the school.”

Yuu raises an eyebrow, a graceful, unimpressed arch.

“I don’t need to act like I own it,” she says simply. “People behave better when you make them think you do.”

Deuce: chokes

Ace: “HUH?? WHO EVEN TALKS LIKE THAT?!”

Yeah, that night. Ace begun to had his own doubt now regarding Yuu identity...

Deuce Spade

Riddle assigned Deuce and Yuu (she volunteer to help) to host a tea session for a the next party. Deuce is determined to do it perfectly. Yuu, meanwhile, is just… being herself.

Deuce carefully carries the tray of teacups with a level of focus that could shatter steel. Yuu is already seated, setting the napkins, folding it into swans and put it neatly inside the clean plate.

He watches her for a moment. The way she sits with her back straight but relaxed. The effortless way she aligns the teaspoons and the plate. Deuce stay silent until they decide to had a little break in the middle of their planning.

Yuu had drinking some tea. She even gently taps the rim of the teacup with the lid like a signal from some tea ritual passed down through royal bloodlines.

Deuce whispers under his breath, “So Elegant…”

Yuu looks up. “Hm?”

“N-Nothing! Just saying you’re really good at this.” He clears his throat. “Like, you move like… someone who’s been to a lot of important… things.”

Yuu smiles softly. “Afternoon teas, mostly. I had to attend them every other week growing up. It was… expected.”

“Expected by who? Your family?”

She tilts her head. “Something like that.”

Deuce nods, suddenly tense. If she’s this composed, I’ve gotta match that energy or I’ll embarrass myself. He sits down beside her and forces his back straight like a broomstick, folding his hands awkwardly in his lap.

Yuu gently picks up a scone with silver tongs.

Deuce tries to copy her. But he grabs the scone with his bare hand, then freezes halfway. “OH—wait, sorry, was I supposed to use… um, those?”

Yuu politely hands him the tongs. “Here.”

He takes them… upside down.

She doesn’t comment.

They sip tea. Or rather, Yuu sips. Deuce tries to imitate her exact grip on the teacup and ends up sticking his pinky out way too far. It looks like he’s trying to cast a spell with it.

Yuu notices and chuckle. “You don’t have to force the pinky. Just keep your fingers relaxed.”

“Oh. Right! Haha. Totally knew that.”

(He didn’t.)

Then comes the cake.

Yuu picks up her fork and cuts a neat bite-size piece, pressing gently so the cake holds its shape.

Deuce slams the fork down, and the cake explodes into crumbs. “...Darn it.”

Yuu raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say a word.

“I swear I didn’t mean to murder it,” he mutters, trying to regroup the cake into something vaguely edible.

She hands him a second plate. “Here. Try again. This time… less muscle, more finesse.”

Deuce accepts it like it’s a sacred test.

“Were you trained by nobility or something?” he blurts in the middle of picking up the cake

Yuu laughs softly. “No. But let’s just say… my family was very particular. You either adapt or get banned from the table.”

Deuce gapes. “Banned??”

She nods with a teasing smile. “For a week.”