Chapter Text
Squelch.
The feeling of his shoes sinking into mud brought a frown to Beerus’s face. To make matters worse, it was raining.
“Whis, how could you mess that one up?”
The angel had an umbrella up before Beerus could finish scolding him. He was also surprised by the lack of firm, grassy ground underfoot, but as usual he took everything in his stride.
“Sorry, it appears I wasn’t paying attention as we approached, but this is certainly the Sacred World of the Kais.” He never needed to pay attention usually; the Sacred World was, generally, unchanging.
Beerus assessed his surroundings again, realising Whis was right. Whis hovered about half a meter above the mud, and Beerus joined him, putting an arm around the angel’s waist to ensure he stayed under the radius of the umbrella, and because it was rather cold. Together they headed towards the temple.
“I know you need to water a planet occasionally, but this is a bit excessive, don’t you think?”
Whis considered the rain. “It’s not particularly heavy rainfall, which suggests someone has been letting it rain unchecked for some time.”
“Maybe they went out and got caught up?” Beerus grinned. “Then I won’t have to sit through the meeting.”
“I believe they’ve left at least one kai on the planet.”
“Please let it be the newest one that hardly has anything to say,” Beerus prayed.
Under the eaves of the temple, Beerus discarded his muddied shoes and wiped the rain from his body before entering the temple, leaving Whis outside to deal with the mess.
Inside there were lit candles and open books, but no one appeared to be around.
“Hello?” Beerus called.
From the door at the other end of the room, Shin appeared. The kai looked tired, but alert; something wasn’t right.
“Oh, it’s you.”
Beerus cocked a brow. “Not the usual greeting I’m accustomed to, but I’m guessing things aren’t going well for you.”
Seeming to remember who was in front of him, Shin straightened up. “Um, sorry, Lord Beerus. Welcome. Uh, how can I help you?”
With a laugh, Beerus ruffled Shin’s hair. “That bad, huh? Today’s meant to be the coordination meeting. I take it that pile of books is more about the rain than what you were planning to discuss at the meeting?” He shrugged. “I suppose we can discuss the rain too. Do you need help with it?”
Shin looked out of the window forlornly. “It’ll clear up in time.”
“What went wrong?” Beerus had never seen the Sacred World water-logged like this. He’d always been subjected to perfect weather during his visits, but he’d suspected the kais must water their planet occasionally, much like the way Whis scheduled it to rain sometimes while he slept. “Which one of you controls the weather?”
“…I do.”
“…” Beerus stared at him. “So, why don’t you stop the rain? I’m not sure if you’ve been out there recently, but you’re going to have issues by having your soil saturated with water.”
The rain seemed to become a little heavier.
“Lord Beerus… They’re gone. The others. A majin named Buu came –“ Shin clenched his fists and closed his eyes as he remembered.
Beerus felt a chill run down his spine. “Buu? Buu was here?” He grabbed Shin by the shoulders. “The Majin Buu – the little pink prick?!”
Shin nodded, seeming to be fighting back tears.
Feeling his grip on the kai tightening, he let go and sighed, tail waving in irritation. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? Wh-“ His tail slapped the ground in anger. “Whis! Get in here!”
The angel entered the room as he was bid, having been waiting patiently outside. “Yes, my lord?”
“You! You didn’t think to mention whatever happened here?”
Whis seemed unfazed. “You have always said that you wanted to keep a wide berth of Buu, so I have simply stopped mentioning him unless we’ve been in his range. Which, if I recall correctly, was some 30 million years ago last time it happened.”
Yes, it had been some time since he’d last heard of the bastard. Unlike the kais, Beerus didn’t keep a watch on the universe for things being destroyed, so he only heard about Buu’s antics at meetings where the kais lamented on what had been lost during one of his rampages.
“You never asked me to keep you abreast of any developments on the Sacred World, preferring to wait for these meetings. So, my lord, why would you expect me to have told you?” Whis considered biting his tongue, but he decided it was best to let his next words slip out. “I believe the Supreme Kai should have contacted you over this matter.”
Beerus turned back to Shin. “Whis is right. You should have told me.” He looked back at the rain and folded his arms, feeling like the temperature had dropped a little. “What happened exactly?”
Shin relayed the tale of the day Buu attacked. It was strange because he began explaining, and at some point Beerus gently guided him into a chair and sat with him in a shocking display of caring that Shin had never witnessed from the destroyer.
“How long has it been?” Beerus asked, voice calmer than it had been earlier.
“A few weeks…maybe a month? More?” A lot had happened, and Shin couldn’t remember how long it had been. He had definitely lost a day or two to grief, and then the days following when he got his revenge…and the guilt after that. The burden of that sin had left him out in the rain, lying on the ground, half hoping it would swallow him up. Yet, no one came to punish him, nor to help.
How long had it taken him to pull himself from those depths and get back to this semi-functional state? Beerus was lucky to see him doing so well. And, Shin realised, he was glad Beerus was here.
“You should have asked me for help,” Beerus said. “You clearly need it.”
“I’m fine,” Shin lied.
“I’m far too old to accept an ‘I’m fine.’ The temple never used to be this messy whenever I occasionally walked through here, and that’s back when there were five of you. I’ll have Whis tidy up for you.”
“I can do it.”
“No, you’re going to rest. The bags under your eyes make you look like a panda, but not in a cute way.”
“I –“
“No buts. Come on, show me to your room.”
Shin had no choice other than to comply it seemed, so he reluctantly led Beerus through the temple to the East room. The destroyer whipped off Shin’s sash and outer robe without warning and had the kai on the bed before he could protest.
“What makes you think I’ll be able to sleep with you watching over me?” Shin asked as Beerus fluffed the pillows and tested them to see whether one or two was more comfortable.
“Because as long as I’m here you’re the safest you’ll ever be.”
“I think I’d prefer to have Whis here. He’s stronger than you, right?”
Beerus smirked, thinking that this kai would never usually say things like this to his face and he really needed to get some shut-eye so he could control his tongue a little better.
“That may be so, but Whis wouldn’t do the things I’d do for you. If I thought you were in danger, I’d protect you, or die trying. Whis would protect you within reason, but at some point he’d tip the balance between what he can do, and what is intervening with fate. While he can’t change fate, I would do whatever I must in order to do so.”
“How poetic. Still, my mind is in turmoil over my losses. Sleep comes when my body can no longer function.”
Beerus’s eyes narrowed in thought, and then he was taking off his neck regalia and slipping off his gold wristbands.
Shin had no idea what he was planning, hugging one of the pillows closer to him as Beerus got onto the bed and then stole said pillow from him. Beerus laid down next to Shin and got comfortable before pulling the kai on top of him, positioning him so Shin’s head rested on his chest. Then he slipped a hand under Shin’s shirt and gently rubbed his back.
For a reason he hadn’t quite worked out, Shin didn’t protest. The warmth of Beerus’s body was pleasant, and the hand at his back was soothing. He guessed that Beerus knew the best way to put someone to sleep; it seemed to be one of his favourite things to do after all. Going along with it, Shin thought about how he’d suddenly decided in the past hour that he trusted Beerus enough to let him get this close, after millennia of staying out of arm’s reach (just in case). He supposed he was really that desperate for someone in the universe to lend him even the smallest bit of support. Actually, he was glad it was Beerus. He was glad this guy wasn’t just there to attend a meeting once in a thousand years.
Piece of cake, Beerus thought as he carefully extracted himself from the sleeping Shin, making sure not to undo all his hard work. As much as he wanted to nap with the kai, there were other things to be done.
“Oh, Whis, my darling, look at how much better it looks!” Beerus noticed the lack of used cups and plates lying around, and the fact the tea table had been tidied and was recognisable once more.
“How is he?”
“He’ll survive. He’s made it this far without us.”
Whis motioned to the window. “It stopped raining about ten minutes ago.”
“About the same time he fell asleep,” Beerus mused. “As long as it stays stopped, otherwise he might as well rename the place Sacred Marsh of the Kais.”
“Maybe drop the plural,” Whis suggested.
“Well, actually, I had a job for you, dear.”
Whis frowned. “And what would that be, honey?”
The rain started again as Beerus stared out of the window, waiting for Whis to return, and not long after, Shin entered the room.
“You’re still here?” Shin asked.
“Yeah. Sent Whis out on a little errand.”
Shin noticed that things had been moved. “Oh… I can take you home if you want.”
“I think I’ll wait here. If you don’t mind, that is.”
“Not at all. Did you want some tea?”
Beerus accepted the offer and waited for Shin to prepare it before asking, “How do you feel after your nap?”
Shin shrugged as he handed Beerus a cup. “A nap can’t fix… I mean, thank you for helping with the small respite.”
“I wanted you to sleep for longer.”
“As I said, my mind doesn’t have the inner peace it once did. A dreamless sleep is hard to come by.”
Beerus sighed. “Look, I don’t often offer to do something like this, but, well, even I think it’s a bit much that a mortal managed to control that freak of nature. So, if you want, I’ll destroy him. I know you kais don’t generally list individuals, but –“
“There’s no need.”
For a moment Beerus was dumbfounded. “You don’t want him dead?”
“He’s already gone.”
Beerus nodded with a smile. “Good. I mean, I’m surprised he managed to control Buu long enough to get him here.”
“It wasn’t Buu who killed him.”
The pair stared at each other for a moment which seemed to drag on. Shin was weighing up whether to admit to his sins; no one else in the multiverse knew as far as he was aware. Meanwhile Beerus was frantically trying to come up with how this wizard died when Shin was looking at him in a way which suggested the kai had been involved.
“…Perhaps you’d like to tell me what happened after Buu left this planet?”
Shin spared no details; he had resigned himself to death not long after he’d killed Bibidi, but no one came to execute him. Actually, it felt good to tell Beerus – to tell someone. It turned out that Beerus could be a good listener when he wanted to be, but Shin suspected it was only because this was probably the juiciest gossip he’d heard for millennia.
When his tale was finished, he wasn’t sure what Beerus was going to say. The destroyer seemed to be going through a range of emotions – shock that a kai would do such a thing, but also impressed, and a little anger seemed to be mixed in too.
Beerus tapped his fingers against his knee as he sat there. This kai escapes death one day and tries to walk into it the next! He could have been killed by Buu or Bibidi, yes, but by killing a mortal he’d really stuck his neck out! His hand reflexively found his chest to check his heart was still beating.
“Of all the ones to be left with…” Beerus muttered.
Shin set his cup down on the table, seeming to withdraw into himself as he sat back. “If I could change who was sat here, I would. You don’t know how many times I’ve asked, ‘why me?’ Why did fate decide I should be the one to live? Why didn’t I die when I put myself in danger again? Why haven’t I died since?”
“Because fate knows the universe needs us to carry on. I know the life-link was probably just a footnote in the job description when you took up the post, but now it means everything.” Beerus paused as he let those words sink in for himself as well. “If you die, then I die, and the universe is left godless. Maybe you have kais lined up on World Core, but I don’t have a successor in mind.”
“Then I truly wish it had been any of the others.”
Beerus pulled Shin closer so he could wrap an arm around his shoulders as they sat side by side. “I’m pleased it’s you. I’m not sure any of the others would have done what you did, and you know, I really appreciate the balls it took to do that. Okay, maybe not so pleased that you risked both our lives in the process, but still impressive stuff from a kai.” He patted Shin’s shoulder. “Can’t imagine Grand Supreme Kai would be pleased, but me and that guy had a whole bunch of opposite opinions.”
“I’m not sure any Supreme Kai wishes to be complimented as the destroyer’s favourite…”
“I’m trying to make you feel better,” Beerus said with a sigh.
“You don’t have to. I believe that continuing to live and work as the Supreme Kai is my penance for what I’ve done. I will simply have to recover from this loss as the universe demands of me.”
“We’re colleagues, I’m meant to help you out at times like this.”
Beerus thought it was a strange line coming from himself, and Shin looked up with similar confusion.
“And how do you intend to help?” Shin asked, genuinely interested in what Beerus thought he could offer.
“I’m glad you asked! I’ve sent Whis off to get help.” Beerus was all smiles, but then turned serious. “I need to tell you something about this situation. I’d rather tell you now than wait for you to find out from somewhere else.” He paused. “This was planned.”
Shin’s mouth dropped open and Beerus was quickly expanding on what he meant.
“As in, the move down to a single Supreme Kai, not the attack! A while back, maybe around 10 millennia ago, Grand Zeno met with the Grand Supreme Kais and told them he wanted a more balanced universe. As in, he wanted one creator, one destroyer. Some universes took voluntary redundancy, and they were the smart ones. Someone asked if they could just wait until they died off naturally, and at the time Grand Zeno agreed.” Beerus grimaced. “This isn’t the first time kais have ‘accidentally’ died. Universe 6 had more subtle accidents, and spaced further apart. What happened here was cruel.”
“He never mentioned it…” Shin said. “Why wouldn’t he tell us? I would have taken redundancy if he’d asked.”
“You know how he was; he believed in the good in everyone. So, he believed Grand Zeno would wait out all your lifespans until there was only one left.” Beerus thought back to their initial conversation. “I did tell him – that he was dealing with someone he couldn’t possibly comprehend - but I guess Grand Zeno has been rather tame recently. You’ve met him, right?”
“Once.”
“Any thoughts?”
“It was all very…quick. He seemed really disinterested.”
Beerus nodded. “I was going to mention it at today’s meeting. To drive home the point that he was dealing with the whims of a child. I was ready for him to believe what had happened to the Sixth was all a coincidence. But here we are.”
“So, you really think he did this?” Shin asked.
“I’m not saying anything, but I find it quite strange that this mortal I’ve never heard of just so happened to come across Buu – who isn’t awake for long – and have the power to control him.”
They lapsed into silence as both tried to reason that this could have happened without intervention. Shin’s best idea was that there was a small institute out there that had been studying majins for millions of years and had lookouts posted across the universe, waiting for such a moment.
“I think the First and Twelfth Universes still have most of their kais, but they were always Grand Zeno’s favourites. But I wanted you to know that this is the new normal when you start communicating with the other universes, seeing as you’re the Grand Supreme Kai now.”
Shin had come to that realisation, but it was still weird to hear it; he had never aspired to be the Grand Supreme Kai.
“Don’t worry though, you won’t be alone.”
Shin’s face seemed to light up at those words.
“Champa managed to get his kai an attendant. The guy’s no Whis, but any help is better than no help – that’s where I’ve sent Whis.”
“O-oh, thank you.”
It seemed Beerus did care after all. To send Whis all the way to World Core (presumably) just for him.
“We’ve probably still got a few hours before Whis gets back, so what can I help you with? I think the meeting’s a write-off.”
“We were tracking Buu’s path of destruction before he made it here, and he took out of couple of planets we had listed anyway. I think he’s certainly ensured balance for the next millennium, but possibly tipped it in your favour.”
“He does tend to do that.”
“I’m still exhausted, and sitting here with you is oddly comforting. So, if we could just sit a little longer, I’d like that. I’m not sure I’ll sleep, but maybe I’ll just rest my eyes.”
Beerus pulled Shin into his lap. “Your furniture isn’t what I’d call comfy.”
“And your bony physique is?”
“Very cheeky, East. At least I’m warm and can provide a comforting hug.”
“Shin,” he corrected. “But I suppose I should be happy you remembered which one I was.”
“I’ll surely have to rebuild my reputation if it’s that bad.”
Shin smiled softly. “I wouldn’t worry; you already are.”
Ooo
Given how far it was to World Core, Whis returned promptly. The kais had heard the news and had been preparing for a request for an attendant to mirror Universe 6, so Whis arrived, exchanged pleasantries, and departed with Kibito in tow.
Beerus couldn’t wait to brag about Kibito to Champa. The Sixth Universe’s attendant kai was weedy in comparison to Kibito, who looked like he’d fit the title of ‘bodyguard’ better than ‘attendant.’
“Thank you, Whis, excellent find,” Beerus said as he finished inspecting Kibito’s appearance. The kai was just beginning to develop lines in his face, betraying his age, but Beerus liked that. Shin needed someone with a bit more life experience. “Kibito, I trust I can leave the Supreme Kai in your capable-looking hands?”
“Yes, sir.” Kibito bowed.
Oh, I do like him, Beerus thought.
Next, he turned to Shin. “Call me if you need me.”
He had every faith that Kibito would be able to provide better support than he could offer. After all, so far he’d had Whis do most of the heavy lifting. Still, he paused at the door, wondering if he should say something more; he knew this kai would never call him. If he’d wallowed in misery without a call up until now, he was unlikely to reach out, right? He shrugged and stepped out under the eaves where he found his shoes, clean once more. No, he simply had to believe that today they had bonded enough for Shin to seek help from him. Unfortunately, Beerus had such an aversion to this place (heavily associating it with work) that the thought of visiting Shin instead didn’t cross his mind.
In the end, a thousand years passed without contact.