While writing this prompt for Filiiadcorblog, I realized that all of my Gowther x Jericho and Guila x Hauser drabbles sort of fit into the same AU. So here is my dumping ground for that AU.

I really, really like this pairing. It snuck up on me somehow.

I hereby dub it Jerither, for my own ease.

To clarify, though, this basically takes place after the current manga arc where Meliodas is fighting the Ten Commandments in Vaizel. Jericho at this point in time still has no clue what actually transpired in regards to Gowther and Guila.

Disclaimer: I do not own NNT.

Title: I Do Not Understand

Requested by: Filiiadcorblog

Prompt: "I'm Sorry" kiss

Gowther pushed his glasses up his nose as he surveyed the damaged area. "Seems it all turned out alright," he observed, making a pose.

The knight standing beside him nearly combusted at his blasé attitude towards the devastation. "What do you mean, 'it all turned out alright'?!" Jericho gestured widely at the crumbling labyrinth walls, scorched hillsides, and upturned earth that was the aftermath of Meliodas' fight with the Ten Commandments. "How can you call this alright?"

Tilting his head, Gowther peered at Jericho quizzically. "But didn't the knights tear this same area up at the last fighting competition?" he pointed out.

Jericho felt as if she'd been stabbed in the gut.

"If memory serves, Guila rained gigantic fireballs down on the citizens..."

Stab.

"A new chasm opened up..."

Stab.

"Oh, right. Ban made a dent in the hillside, and Diane rearranged the topography some more from what I've heard so I suppose in all fairness it was partly our fault too." Gowther paused, and then added, "But then again, that was due to the knights putting up Diane's sacred treasure as bait to draw them here, so in the end it still becomes the fault of the Holy Knights."

Stab.

"Didn't some civilians die?"

Stab.

"Come to think of it, I also heard that you participated in that attack?"

That was the final nail in her coffin.

Gowther stared down at Jericho. "Why are you on the ground?"

Jericho sobbed, collapsed amongst the rubble. "Please, no more!"

The Goat Sin of Lust crouched in front of her. "Why are you crying? Is it the weight of your guilty conscience?"

She let out an inarticulate, high pitched noise, somewhere between a scream and sob that died halfway out of her throat.

"I'll take that as an affirmative."

"You're really horrible!" Jericho told him.

"So I've been told. Numerous times."

Jericho met the doll's gaze, droplets of sweat beading on her forehead. "You don't sound the least bit sorry about it."

"Should I?" Gowther questioned, sounding genuinely curious. "Would you prefer I apologize even if I don't mean it?"

"Of course not!" she bit back.

"Then what's the problem?"

"I don't want you to do that!" Jericho insisted.

Gowther's stare bored into her. "Why not? Isn't it what you want to hear? That I'm sorry?"

"I want you to mean it!"

"But that isn't going to happen," he pointed out. "So wouldn't it be better to hear it? If you perceive it as the truth, doesn't that effectively make it true for you? I could even alter your memories to make it the truth."

Jericho grit her teeth. "You're wrong. It's still different."

He frowned outright at that, his brow furrowed and his stare uncomprehending. "...I do not understand. Just like what happened with Guila," Gowther stated. "I do not... understand."

Those words hung in the air between them. She didn't know if it was just her imagination, or wishful thinking, but they did not ring with the same tone as the others to Jericho. They'd been spoken with the same levelness as the rest of his speech, but... somehow they felt very lonely to her. She hung her head and groaned. Then she reached out a hand towards him. "Help me up, would you?"

Obliging, he grasped her calloused, tanned hand in his far more delicate-seeming pale one, easily hauling Jericho to her feet.

They stood there silently next to each other.

Jericho shifted uncomfortably, not used to the quiet. "You have a lot of things you should be sorry for," she said. When she wanted, she could be just as blunt as he. "But not understanding isn't one of them." Jericho grimaced. "If that makes any sense."

"It doesn't." Gowther paused, observing Jericho's flinch. "But thank you, anyway."

Sweat ran down the side of her face. "...Do you even mean that?"

"Not really."

Jericho let out a scream of frustration, pulling on her hair. "Aaaargh! I really can't deal with you!"

"I thought you said wanted the truth," Gowther said. "Did you change your mind?"

"No! I want the truth to change!" she fumed.

"Now you're just being childish."

She let out another indignant howl. "I give up! There's just no arguing with you! Let's just kiss and make up and go or something. I'm sure the others are-"

Her words were abruptly cut off, as the Sin stepped into her personal space. Gently, he grasped her face and pulled it to his.

Gowther's lips were cool against hers, and unyielding. Smooth, where hers were chapped. Deep in shock, Jericho didn't even twitch, much less make a move to respond. Not that she would have, even if she could.

When he drew back, so too did her fist. Then socked him in the jaw with all the strength she could muster; enough force to spin his head around violently until it faced the wrong way.

"It's just a turn of phrase!" she shouted, face turning beet red. "I didn't mean that you should actually kiss me!"

Reaching up, Gowther twisted his head back to its former position. "Oh. I will keep that in mind."

Jericho promptly stalked off, muttering under her breath. "No wonder he's the sin of lust! I don't blame Guila for breaking up with him!"

Gowther stared after her as she left.

"I'm sorry," he said to the empty air. And then he began to follow the knight, picking his way across the ruined land. Thinking it was a shame that she hadn't heard it.

Because this time... he might have meant it.