I imagine that the Kaibas end up at a lot of parties.

It's just part of the Rich People Experience, and we do see examples of Seto being dragged to such functions in canon.

I don't think these parties always end up as positive experiences.

.

Generally, when at a party, Gozaburo did most of the talking. One would be forgiven for believing that Amaya was better attuned to social interactions than her husband, but the truth was just the opposite; Amaya was honest to a fault, and she had no patience for diplomatic lying. Her absolute inability to smile and nod in the presence of people she hated was infamous. Amaya's was a mind for details, for organization, for planning and orchestrating.

For scheming, one might say.

It was Gozaburo who knew how to navigate the human element.

Among more old-fashioned types, Amaya often found herself leaving more often than she stayed, and Gozaburo was inclined to let her. While the Kaiba Corporation's meteoric rise to success meant that he could easily afford top-tier legal talent, and he did keep such talent on retainer, it was always simpler to avoid felony charges than it was to fight them.

"Better to weather the faux pas of leaving a party than the faux pas of bloodying the nose of politicians, dearest," Gozaburo was wont to say.

Amaya wasn't sure she believed that, but she deferred to her husband's expertise anyway. She spent her time at such events with an arm linked around Gozaburo's, watching the other guests under the pretense of surveying her surroundings. Sometimes, she would find a small group of like-minded types and spend the entire party murmuring insults into her champagne flute and delighting in watching her fellows sputter and choke on their drinks.

It was this latter strategy which landed Amaya in a conversation with Dominic Aristov and his wife Vera. For the life of her, Amaya couldn't remember what it was they did, but it seemed to her by the way they dressed—both decked out in conspicuous jewelry and garish watches and other such sparkling, polished displays—that they didn't feel like they belonged in their present company; they were overcompensating.

Amaya's entire outfit cost less than one of Dominic's six rings.

"I hear that you've adopted, darling," said Vera, brushing her fingers against Amaya's arm. "It's very . . . quaint of you, I must say. Giving back to your community. It's sweet, honestly. I'm impressed."

Amaya's jaw flexed. "Thank you, dear," she said; anyone paying a lick of attention would have known to tread lightly. As it turned out, this woman and her husband had no such licks, and Amaya's chosen company for the evening—mostly comprised of the serving staff—all shared looks as they anticipated the firestorm about to come.

"What possessed you and your husband to do such a thing?" Dominic waded in.

"Children need homes," Amaya said simply. "The boys we've taken into our care are well-suited to the guidance and protection we can provide. So, we will provide it."

There was plenty of buzz about Seto, how he was just as bright as Noa, if not more, but nobody mentioned little Mokuba. Amaya supposed, if she supposed anything, that this was to be expected. He wasn't even four years old, after all, and most of the people she and Gozaburo dealt with on a day-to-day basis barely thought of children at all. Even their own.

Never mind toddlers.

But Mokuba was quick-witted, even—especially—for his age. Amaya was certain that he would grow into just as much a Kaiba as his brothers, and quite possibly had more potential to learn from Gozaburo's skill-set than even Noa.

"That's precious," Vera swooned, and Amaya imagined shoving her drink into the woman's left eye. "Honestly, I never would have thought you capable of that sort of sentiment. You're always so stiff, darling. Why, if I didn't know better, I might mistake you for an ice sculpture!"

She proceeded to titter like a songbird.

"Sentiment has nothing to do with it," Amaya pressed.

"Oh, do go on," Vera drawled. "There aren't any cameras here, you know. You needn't worry about them hearing you. It really is an honorable gesture, taking in rabble like that. I hear you managed to get one of the little whelps into Phoenix, even! How's that for flaunting power and influence? Isn't that right, love?"

Dominic nodded sagely. "Quite so. It's a very exclusive school, that. I shudder to think what you had to do for them to admit . . . someone like that."

Amaya grimaced. She set down her champagne. "What, precisely, do you mean? Dominic."

The man blinked owlishly. "Oh, come now, Amaya."

"Speak your mind," Amaya said. "Go on. Say it."

"Now, now," Vera said, with a reproachful look at Amaya for not observing proper decorum, "none of that. We're at a party. There's no need to make this a whole thing."

"Please," Amaya said, feeling her blood pressure rise, "elucidate. Either one of you. How is it that I should take the both of you now insulting my child? Am I to cackle like a hyena and raise a toast? Why don't you call Noa a lame cripple next? Why, we ought to take him out back and shoot him. Go on. Say it. I know you're thinking it. He's a waste now, after all. No wonder we chose to replace him. We're too old now to have another real child, so we went out and bought one. Come now, how close am I?"

"Amaya—" Dominic started, eyes flaring with anger as he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.

"Touch me," Amaya whispered coldly, "and I will be the last thing you ever touch."

.

When he knew his lady wife was inclined to make a scene, Gozaburo Kaiba would divest himself of his coat early in the evening. He would roll up the sleeves of his shirt, casually, so that when and if he had to intervene, his mammoth arms were in full view.

It was a useful display, and it often stopped confrontations before they started.

He knew, somehow, that tonight would be one of those nights. Gozaburo had known the moment he spied his steel-toed boots and realized he was going to wear them. He wasn't a man who believed in fate, or precognition, but he did trust his instincts.

Gozaburo swept through the Fairchilds' yard like a summer storm, and other partygoers stepped away from him long before he reached them. They were fully aware of his destination, and what would happen if they stopped him from reaching it.

Dominic Aristov was in the middle of an indignant speech about knowing your place when Gozaburo cut in: "Think long and hard about your next words, Aristov. Depending on what they are, I might have them carved into your headstone."

Vera whirled. "Oh, now you're threatening us?!"

Gozaburo turned his gaze on the woman coldly. "Who are you?"

Dominic's face twisted into something ugly as he turned to regard Gozaburo. "Take care how you speak to my wife, Kaiba."

"Should I?" Gozaburo asked, eyebrows raising. "Why? Is it a social faux pas to speak rudely to another man's wife?"

The silence that settled over the entire yard was deafening, stifling, like a weighted blanket. Amaya's eyes glittered, but she refrained from smiling, this time. Gozaburo caught her gaze, then turned back to his opponent.

He shifted his weight.

"You don't want this fight," Dominic said, clenching his fists.

"Don't think so highly of yourself," Gozaburo said flatly. "You're barely a dry-cleaning bill."