She hadn't initially intended on going to the gala, but when she had been asked to go for supervision purposes in case anything happened and she'd be on the scene, she couldn't exactly say no. Naoto had been mulling over it for a while, and there was no way that she was going to drink, so she figured that no, the gala wasn't going to be very enjoyable for her at all. Naoto didn't drink often, if at all (for good reason), and she didn't particularly enjoy socialization on such a massive level, so she didn't see how her presence was going to do any good at all other than make people want to avoid her, since they would recognise easily enough that she was a figure of authority. Of sorts, anyway. It would just be a miserable evening.
That didn't stop her making an extra effort though. She wasn't allowed to wear her usual clothes, considering it was a fancy party and all, so she had dug out one of her suits that she had had tailor made, waistcoat and all. Slipping into the jacket was unfamiliar, but even as she combed her hair in the mirror and blinked, she was satisfied enough with her appearance. It didn't give indication of her actual gender at all. And it had been a long while since she had worn a suit like this. It felt foreign, and weird. She hated events like this.
She had concealed herself away in the corner somewhere, a glass of water in hand, adamantly refusing the glasses of champagne being offered to her left, right and center and basically keeping an eye on practically everything she could. Any conversation struck up with her had been fairly abrupt, because she simply wasn't sure how to interact with these people who, for the most part, had a lot of money and not a lot of anything else. They never seemed to like her answers to their endless, nonsensical questions. The whole affair was, frankly, uncomfortable.
She wasn't paying attention, however, her eyes aimlessly staring into the ripples of her water in the glass, when someone stumbled backwards into her and she jolted, only just managing to save herself from dropping the glass or spilling water on either of them. She was met with stuttered apologies from someone who was, as always, a lot taller than she was, and she looked up at the man and blinked. "It's fine. No harm done," she quickly replied, her eyes flicking from his face to the camera. "I can move, if you're trying to take pictures. I apologise for being in the way, sir."
Always the formal one.