This was not what Gruffydd had thought would happen.  [i]Maybe if I’d actually [/u]thought[i] I would have seen it coming.[/i]  Gruffydd’s gaze was drawn downwards, and his expression of contempt melted into one of shame.  His thoughts spilled out into muttered speech—but in Welsh, the language he still thought in.  “Mae'n debyg y gallai fod wedi bod yn waeth, ond mae angen i mi gael hwn o dan reolaeth.”

	He looked up again at Keigo.  “They’re right, it was a joke, and I should have seen it from the start.  I was, I will admit, annoyed with—well, a couple of things, really—and I allowed myself to direct it at you, while you held direct responsibility for none of it.  That was wrong, and I am sorry.”  His apology was, as he had long ago learned custom dictated, with a bow.  Not a particularly deep bow, as—despite his direct and somewhat grave phrasing—he understood this infraction to be relatively minor.  But he was not one to beat around the bush in a situation like this, so both apology and bow were necesarry.

	Gruffydd’s rather abrupt change in demeanor had caught Keigo off guard, but the underclassman got out a rather confused expetence.  That done, Gruffydd stood straight up and, without missing a beat, delivered his fellow third year and elbow in the side, perhaps a tad more forceful than was necesarry, but the message was clear: [i]“Alright, now it's your turn.”[/i]