They'd been siblings from before he even ran away from home.

Actually, they'd been siblings since Rhyme was born- since Beat had been an only child prior to that- but they've agreed from counting as before and after that point. Mostly because she'd like to say something suitably poetical- you know, the type that goes like they were half of a pair in heaven, or something. And it will go right over Beat's head, most of the time, but he'll always agree.

It's his little sister, the brains in the operation. He's there to support her- same as she's chosen to be there to support him.

"But I don' need supportin' yo! I'm your big brother- nothin' I can't handle."

Well, there had been a bunch of things.

There had been the school- which totally wasn't only Beat's fault, the teachers weren't, er… Okay, it was Beat's fault. He just couldn't concentrate- the numbers were just wriggling things. Anything with literature on it became an endless chore, no matter how engrossing the text could be, or how many movie adaptations there were.

And he couldn't just go to Rhyme, who could usually be counted on for finishing the movies about some really old book or something. He'd just procrastinate, or show off some tricks on his board when she was a bit blue.

"You look normal Rhyme. Peachy-thing and yellow, wi' blue eyes."

She would laugh at that, good-naturedly. Because she's Beat's sister and she knows that while he isn't the brightest bulb available, she'll pick the stability of him any time.

And maybe, because Beat would've tried on one of those tough-guy poses, and scooped her up with one arm and then she'd have to laugh or else she'd get tickled.

There had been the matter of his not-so-long name, which got picked incredibly soon. After getting Rhyme, he thinks and she's never heard him be called Daisukenojo.

(Bwaah- he always says that, and it's a really good way to locate him if she ever lost him. She'd say Daisukenojo Be- and then he'd holler back in answer trying to shut her up.)

It's because she would've had trouble saying the long unwieldy thing when she was even smaller than now- 'as if that's possible', Beat says and pulls the edge of her beanie down over her eyes. And because it was really, really cool for boys to go around by surname.

Rhyme remembers going, for about a month or so, going around as Beat too. And he had gotten her the first ever other black beanie- they had ran out of skull ones. And if she was little Beat, then the pink ones were out of the question.

So plain black it was, and plain black it stayed, even when the nickname had faded from use due to too many others wearing it thin.

Beat remembers, even if she doesn't really, that she had dreams. She wanted to be, err…

There was the skateboarding, though that was because she'd follow him into the one good park instead of going along with the other girls. (And that had been when she became Rhyme, because with two Beats it became insane and he'd hollered himself hoarse in two days).

There was wanting to be like Auntie Serah, who was a teacher and therefore expected to know all the adages and all the wise little details. And she'd have her own Uncle Snow, although it would've been Beat instead of a proper uncle, because he'd probably scare off most of them, and…

Oh, they would've probably disappeared one day too. With a reason, as they remember reading off a note posted to the fridge when Auntie Serah got too sick and wished to return to Bodhum for some reason.

There was wanting to live in either a calm beach with a lot of skate parks or getting somewhere in the city. There was learning how to pull graffiti to a minor art form, even if Rhyme never did the cool murals, but she'd write in pretty script a bunch of adages and make a habit of learning to twirl a bit on skates to reach higher.

The last one had been something really really sappy, Beat knows. He'd seen it.

The car crashed in front of that one mini-mural. Not really in front- you could still see it, if it hadn't been scribbled over already, and the wall isn't dented at all.

("It was concrete Beat, and metal and other things to make sure that the building is safe. You wouldn't severely damage it with a car."

"I didn' know, ya? An' anyways…")

It was supposed to crash with Rhyme- who had been (he says, even if he doesn't look really solid sure) mid-retelling of something that had slipped both their minds. Supposed to, and it actually did- car slamming into muscle and drawing a high-pitched yelp.

From Beat. He'd thrown himself between the vehicle and his sister in desperation, because of maybe. Maybe, if he was in between, the shock and the strength would be reduced. Maybe he'd cushion her fall, or something. At least, she'd get no chrome-plated bumper in her body, and that was alright.

He remembers hearing the little chime she wore around her neck before the half-ton of car slammed into him and him into the pavement.

The chimes have a bit of history, even if no-one is there to make memory of the fact.

And it's one of the sincerest forms of flattery too, since Rhyme and Beat both got them off another beachside vendor in Bodhum, when they'd tagged along with Snow and Serah for what they'd disguised as… oh, they can't remember. Beat does remember getting to ride Shiva- Snow's bike, named in a moment of insight- and doing so in little loops around the tranquil beach house complex which could satisfy if done from one end to the other of the thing. And racing Hope for a while until he got tired of beating him and they swapped to throwing stuff at small targets. (Hope beat him supremely at that, but Beat blames Hope having extra training and that he'll have him beat by next time, promise). Rhyme remembers a lot less- she assumes it has to do with the fee, even if she isn't aware of what it is.

But there had been adages, she's sure, some stories. And there had been a bit of girl-talk she missed and a lot of loud jibes from a woman named Fang and Aunt (Sergeant, although that maybe wasn't the rank) Lightning (Claire).

There had been Beat running around when he'd called the other rosy-haired woman by the wrong name, whichever that was even if she hadn't moved much from her perch.

The chimes hadn't been the highlight, but they had been fun. Rhyme remembers throwing little metal chains up and around his neck a million times or so, with the designs getting progressively zanier, until she found the usual pick (slightly hidden up one of her sleeves, with a wink at the vendor).

The chain was a lot darker, and there was a skull-thing with a crown and it was so obviously Beat she had to hide it in plain sight so that she could pull the little joke. But he'd done the same, testing a bunch of them on end until he came up with one that was passable, even if-

"It's too girly, don't you think?"

"What happens from staying too long around Fang, yo!"

His stopped sounding when he kind of broke it after a couple nasty crashes on a skateboard- but he never did take it off.

So Rhyme didn't do so either.

It eventually came back to bother her.

It came as girls who teased because she was just so different. Because knowing how to do a three-sixty with only one hand and off a railing just wasn't the knowledge she was supposed to have. Neither were adages- and knowing that they were all bark and no bite just wasn't useful when they were so many.

And if water can wear down mountains, this could certainly wear down a not-girl not-teenager with ease.

Cue Beat. Cue Beat as a Templar, the ones in the old books charging in to defend a sister's honor.

Boy, did he ever.

He had railed against the others, lashing out in coherent arguments. With a couple words that weren't appropriate- and they cost him a bit, sniggers and offers for a dictionary- but he plowed on and on, a staunch defender, until he'd grown a bit hoarse. Until the girls who had boys who weren't siblings brought them in and Beat had one of those smiles. The ones with skateboards and daredevils and the promise of bruises in the near future.

("An' we still here, see? Told you, they had it wrong."

She giggles for a bit, in one of the odd lapses into girlishness, before going stern on him. Or as stern as she can go to her big brother.

"Too much force wasn't the proper answer though. Words can't break bones, after all…"

"No one got really hurt!")

A couple of bruises later, and a couple of talking-tos later, Beat gave up.

"Yo, it was for my little sister."

That had been the freaking mantra. Over and over and over, because he'd get into fights and forget even more of his schoolwork and it went even worse when Auntie Serah got really sick and had to leave to Bodhum for good.

And then Beat would let go of more schoolwork because- in his own words- he just couldn't care. And anyways, if Rhyme was feeling down, he'd just ride his skateboard all the way to the overflowing post office in Shibuya and post a pair of letters to Bodhum and then roll back reeking of ramen and spray-paint fumes.

(It didn't help any with his parents that he'd actually partaken in the graffiti-ing, stains on his shirt and pants, sneakers scuffed and a bunch of photos on his cellphone of the redecorations to a couple choice walls).

Then would come the million reprimands, the lock-downs in his room that never worked because Beat was athletic enough to jump out a second-story window and land unscathed. Or because Rhyme would slip him the keys- at times, if the penalty was too severe even for her.

He'd not always come back by the time their parents would check though. And those times were brutal in the way words can be, always punctuated by 'why can't you be like Rhyme' echoing up around the walls and inside Beat's thick skull.

He runs off not too soon after.

And the day had been epically normal even, just him dropping off Rhyme at her school at way too early in the morning so that he could catch some minutes on the nearest park on his board. Rhyme calling out to him that he better not be late again, because she can't pull the allergy card so early in the year and she still isn't overly comfortable with a little white lie.

("B-but Rhyme, y'know I'm all sneezy with, er… Monday morning was maths, right?"

"Sorry. But you couldn't keep skiving off, or you'd-"

"Get caught, right? Don' worry 'bout that. Can outrun all of them geezers."

A giggle. Again.

"They wouldn't have come chasing after you, you know."

"How can they catch me then?")

And Rhyme had watched him leave, mad dashing around a corner.

There had been one of his bags stashed near a bin there, in the even earlier morning. And he'd packed enough band-aids and some cash and a soda bottles to last him until he reached…

Beat hadn't really planned it. He had thought Bodhum, but that'd be too obvious (and Lightning or Fang or Hope would've ratted him out faster than he could think). He had thought just making a wild run for another district, for as long as his board could take him. He'd probably figure it out once he was in a station somewhere at the ticket booth.

Nothing was missing- mercifully, or he would've had to roughhouse it on the road. And apart from the bag being slightly dirty and reeking of soiled sneakers, it was fairly inconspicuous (although he did get bitched at for stinking up the cubby room and he'd had to punch a guy for a couple insults).

He'd picked up Rhyme even, and raced her home, calling merrily inside.

Not 'hello', not really, just something. 'Yo', most probably, since his parents always hated that.

And he left.

No real excuse, just waiting until his mother was gossiping on the phone with a co-worker and his father had left for an important reunion he luckily had.

(At school, for misbehavior, but it worked anyways for Beat.)

And he'd been peachy, just rolling down streets with the smelly bag slung over one shoulder and his trusty skateboard taking curves and jumps smooth as possible.

"Daisukenojo!"

"Bwaaaaah-"

He couldn't really stop himself. And really, it wasn't just at being called Daisukenojo. It was that Rhyme was saying it, Rhyme on Beat's spare skateboard and hollering 'Beat' and his long name for as long and loud as she could.

Then she'd come to the green-red light, and not stopped and the chime around her neck was too damn cheery for not stopping. She'd been smiling even, because big brother hadn't really really left and-

Beat leaps for her.

The car- a sleek red one, she thinks- comes sailing in, barely a moment after Beat pins her to his chest and braces himself for impact.

It doesn't really work in midair.

Beat had woken up somewhere else. Still in the Underpass, since he recognized about half of the tags on the walls and any street-worthy guy knows the Underpass better than his palm. Rhyme had still been kinda crushed to his chest. Clothing ruffled, dirtied- but the girl unharmed.

The she'd woken up, yawning like a cat, and rubbing at her eyes.

"Hello." She went, smiling.

"You've been chosen to play the Game", a guy in a hoodie and can't he see that Beat's mid-freakout over his sister's state and-

"It allows you to come back to life, if you and your partner make it through the week. Just complete the challenges and avoid Erasure."

The guy grinned- only thing they could see from under the hoodie- and stretched a hand with a couple nice pins. CAT pins- guy could walk home covered in Yen if he went anywhere near 104 with those.

"So, what do you say?"

Rhyme's about to say something- a nice little saying about looking before you leap or something- but Beat stopped listening sometime after 'life', and if Rhyme was dead then-

"I'm in, yo. She too. Now what-"

A bright flash of light.

"Collected your fee. Win the Game, you get this and your life back. Lose it, complete Erasure, fees not acquirable by other Players or reimbursable."

Now Beat was really about to jump into whatever the Game was, because his sister has to be able to walk back and-

"Game begins in two days, so here. Practice a bit with these-" more pins, Beat picks one at nearly random- "and you'll get your mission then."

Guy leaves, moseying away with a whistle. He has these freaky little tattoo wings, wavering a bit in the dimly lit place and mingling with the graffiti like it's part of the guy, and then he's gone.

Beat doesn't see everything, of course. He's busy giving Rhyme a winning smile and almost mid-promise that she'll be back home by-

"Hey. I'm Rhyme. Nice to meet you!"

He really truly died then.

They were grateful for the time for practice. Beat had a system with some cards, but mostly stuck to slamming into the weak Noise with his skateboard. Rhyme figured out the card system in nearly no time, chaining it into wild slides down suddenly-appearing rails or epic showmanship or even a tidal wave that left them both whooping for joy.

She had a little pin too, and ended up bumming a couple (lame) ones off the Noise. None of them were real attacks- as it went, one made Beat faster. One made the enemies slightly slower. One had charges, and the charges healed for a lot. And one allowed for a really neat dash that made her untouchable, but she had to be wary of overusing it.

It happened on the first day. Beat had spent the second day doing everything within his power- mostly nicking, to their dismay- to get her at least some offensive.

She ended up with another pin for a spiky shield thing. Cheapest one they could afford and was out on the market.

Rhyme still asked why he'd gone through all the trouble. They were partners, and he was pretty good at keeping her safe, so long as she dashed away any time something got near.

"'Cos you're my partner."

There's something else, she's sure, but Rhyme doesn't ask.

Ask me no questions, a small saying says, and I'll tell you no lies. It probably applies to Beat. And so, if he isn't lying…

He has a little sister. Blonde, looks much like her and Rhyme can tell that they'd have a blast sharing adages and doing some small skateboarding sessions. And they're really close.

She says, with a wide smile, that she can't wait to meet the younger Beat- Bito, to be correct. And Beat smiles kind of sadly, before jumping on his board and telling her that they're going out, now.

He can't stand being cooped up anymore.

They wake up to their palms burning. And Beat swears it was another car- although, far as he's seen, none are on the streets. Rhyme just looks confused and scared- he ruffles her hair and pushes the hat over her eyes.

There's a clock on her small palm. A timer, counting down. When they both flick their cellphones open, there's a message sitting in the inbox.

"Heavy sleepers, huh?"

"I'll never know why Rhyme- you snore like a truck."

"Hey!" Beats drowns the exclamation in laughter, and reads the message. A mission, it says, and he laughs a lot louder for a second.

"These are easy. You my partner, right?"

Rhyme nods, and the timer flicker-fades.

"Done for the day. I'm out!"

He rolls off for some minutes, and Rhyme shouts at him that hey, watch out for the-

Noise pop up, and she dashes at him, pins at the ready. He lands on a frog one, the thing writhing for a bit before croaking out from under with annoyance clear in its face.

"Yo Rhyme. First one as proper partners, ya?"

She only answers once it's over and she's picking up some yen from the floor, Beat flexing his arms after shouldering a bit too hard into one of the Noise.

"Now we keep it up!"

A.N. – Man, had this idea around for a while. They're probably a bit OoC, and I went ahead and mucked around with their backstory a bit… so sorry?

Err, what else… oh yeah, TWEWY isn't mine, it's Square-Enix's and if it were mine I'd make them eat more. Not Beat, but sure deal for the others. Attempt at plot is mine though.

Hope you enjoyed!