Nova found the note tucked into her jacket pocket that morning, slipped in so smooth she hadn't even felt it. Small, folded, and written in clean blocky handwriting:
"Rink. Every night. Dinner time. No eyes."
No signature, but she knew.
That was X's silence. His language. She laughed, shaking her head.
" Boy what can't you just write full sentences"
That night, when the others shuffled toward the mess hall for their usual tasteless ration trays, Nova slipped the opposite direction, hood low, movements casual but fast. The moment she stepped onto the rink, the hum of the door locking behind her echoed like a secret.
X was already there, stick in hand, blades gliding effortlessly as if the ice was part of him. His mask turned toward her, unreadable but waiting.
Nova stepped out with a half-smirk. "Didn't think you were the type to pass notes."
He skated toward her slowly, calm as ever. Then he spoke, low, controlled.
"We're headed into the semifinals soon. We both have to make it because our match with Grin won't be until then. I figured training could help both our odds"
Nova tilted her head, tapping her stick on the ice. "Semifinals? What that mean?"
" Stakes go up, killers get bolder. No more rookies flailing around… it's straight savages from here. Countless matches of full blown psychos from every prison you could ever know."
She stopped at center rink and turned to him, serious now. "So maybe we stop dancing around it. We team up. For now until then. You don't stab me, I don't stab you. Least not till finals."
X tilted his head slightly, then nodded once.
"Deal," he said.
Nova's brows rose. "Still throws me off when you talk."
A pause.
"Get used to it," he replied.
That made her smirk.
And just like that, they began.
It started casual. Nova and X meeting at the rink during dinner hours while the others were distracted by cold meals and colder gossip. No one questioned their absence, no one dared.
At first, they didn't speak much. Just blades on ice. Gliding. Dodging. Clashing. The cold rink echoed with the sharp shrieks of skates and the rhythmic tap of sticks. Nova kept her distance at first, watching how he moved. X was smooth, like liquid smoke, weaving patterns across the rink like he was painting.
She matched him, fast, cocky, daring. Every flick of her wrist was a flex. Every grin a challenge.
One night, X threw a puck at her without warning. Nova caught it with the edge of her blade and raised an eyebrow. "We doing this now?"
He nodded. That was the true beginning of training games.
Speed drills. One-on-ones. Tag on ice. They made rules like, "Lose the puck, do ten laps," and "First one down buys bruises." X never really spoke during these, but Nova filled the silence with wisecracks and play-by-plays like a rinkside announcer.
"He dodges, he weaves, he skates like a shadow born in frost, ladies and gentlemen, the mystery that is X!"
One night, he actually shook his head like he was holding back a laugh. She considered it a victory.
Then came the war games. Tag at full speed, puck sniping from impossible angles, blade duels that ended in breathless laughter or bruises. One time, she clipped his leg mid-sprint and he hit the wall hard. She skated over, breathing heavy, only to hear him laughing under that damn helmet.
"You aight?"
He nodded, then flicked snow at her face. She chased him across the rink, laughing.
Some nights were harder. Training routines pushed to the limit. Sparring matches that left her limping back to her cell, adrenaline fading into soreness. One evening she twisted her ankle dodging a spin-cut and bit her lip not to scream. X skated back silently, knelt, and wrapped it with gauze like he'd done it a hundred times.
No words. Just care.
Other nights were light. She dared him to race her. He beat her. She threw a puck at him in mock rage. He caught it midair and tossed it back like a peace offering.
Bit by bit, she started looking forward to it.
The challenge.
The silence that wasn't awkward anymore.
The mutual understanding that neither of them fit the mold, and neither cared.
One night, after an especially brutal match where both ended with bruises and scratches, Nova flopped on the ice and laughed.
"You ever get tired of bein' good at everything?" she asked between breaths.
X sat beside her, silent a moment, then nodded once.
"Same," she smirked, wiping blood from her lip. "But it's fun though… keepin' up with you."
He glanced at her, then offered a gloved fist. She bumped it.
Respect. Not enemies. Not allies. Just two blades crossing, learning each other.
The next night, rink was alive with the sound of blades.
Cold mist curled around the edges of the ice as Nova tightened the straps on her gloves. Her breath fogged the air as she faced X in the middle of the rink. They'd cleared it out. No weapons that could kill. Just blunt force, skill, and adrenaline.
Nova cracked her neck. "Alright, tall, dark, and dangerous. You ready to dance?"
X didn't speak, but slid into position with his signature twin-blade, letting it spin once in his grip. His movements were so clean, so precise, it almost annoyed her. Like every motion was pre-programmed into perfection.
She grinned. "Aight then. Don't say I didn't warn you."
She came in first, low stance, fast skate, feint to the left before twirling right, throwing a mock jab toward his ribs. X deflected with his stick, countering with a quick shoulder fake that forced her back.
"Okay! You got a little rhythm, I see you!"
She pivoted on her heel, doing a half-spin into a backward slide, gliding out of range with her arms wide like a dare. "Thought you was gonna let me win or somethin'. Don't hold back, mystery man."
X's blade slashed the air once, just missing her side as she ducked under and popped up behind him, giving his shoulder a soft tap with her glove. "Tag. You're it."
He turned, fast, a blur of speed and steel. Nova's smile dropped, just for a second, as he pressed in. Suddenly she was blocking high, spinning out, backhanding a counter that nearly caught him in the helmet. He ducked.
Now they were trading.
One-two combos.
Blade to gauntlet.
Elbow checks and foot sweeps.
At one point, Nova skidded into a slide, leaned all the way back like she was breakdancing on the ice, and nearly clipped his leg. He leapt over it, did a tight spin in midair, and landed clean.
Nova's eyes widened. "Ohhh! Okay! You got tricks!"
"Don't get cocky," he muttered, audibly.
Nova skidded to a stop, her eyes snapping wide. "You talkin' again now?! Since when?!"
X was already rushing her again.
Their blades clashed in a whirl of metal and momentum, sparks flying from the friction. Nova pushed back, giggling through the burn in her arms. "Aight, I see you! Come on then!"
He drove her back with a flurry of fast, shallow strikes, testing her reflexes. She flipped over his blade using the wall for support, landing in a crouch behind him. "Bet you didn't see that one."
He turned, and suddenly, his blade stopped mid-swing.
X's chest rose and fell, his mask tilting just slightly.
"I win," he said.
Nova smirked again, rolling her neck. "Aight. But I'm about to unleash round two."
" Bring it."
The match shifted.
She didn't start brutal, sharp, and unforgiving, but slowly turned fluid.
Their blades no longer clashed in chaos, but in rhythm.
Nova spun on one foot, sliding backwards with a flick of her wrist, her body dropping low like a breaker about to pop-lock. X pivoted, letting his momentum carry him into a one-knee sweep, the twin-blade twirling behind his back as he slid past her, just out of reach.
She rolled over her shoulder, kicked off the ice with both skates, twisting mid-air before landing in a crouch, one arm outstretched, blade humming with energy.
He mirrored the movement, his skates catching the light like flashes of lightning as he spun with a half-jump and came down into a low defensive pose.
It was like watching a street battle choreographed by ghosts.
Sharp hits flowed into smooth glides. Her blade would snap toward him like a whip, he'd dodge and respond with a graceful spin, catching her off balance and letting her catch herself on the ice with a grin.
"Okay, okay," Nova breathed out, circling. "You got some moves under all that mystery."
X only tilted his head and slid in low again, this time not to strike, but to dance.
He pushed her. She pushed back.
She flipped over his shoulders once, caught by surprise, but landed in style, knees bent, arms extended. Their blades clinked softly as they tapped them together, a silent beat to their tempo.
Vera, now behind the rink glass, forgot to breathe.
She had never seen anything like this.
Not in Vault-0. Not ever.
What was happening out there wasn't just training, it was a conversation in movement.
Trust forged in speed.
Respect carved through pain.
And something else, something deeper, hiding beneath the helmets and ice.
Nova slid forward, ducked under a fake swing, and spun up so close their masks nearly touched.
"You havin' fun, huh?" she whispered, breath fogging the space between them.
X answered with a slight laugh.
He lifted his blade, rested it gently on her shoulder, and tapped once.
Tag. You're it.
Nova's smirk returned like fire.
The music of their blades began again.
Nova walked slow, dragging her skates behind her by the laces, hoodie pulled over her damp hair. The chill of the rink still clung to her skin, but her blood was warm, heart still thumping from that dance-fight with X. Her limbs ached, but it was that good kind of sore. The kind that came with respect.
She reached her door, steel with the glowing lock panel beside it, and tapped in her code. The door gave a soft mechanical click, but before she could push it open, a voice behind her made her pause.
" Nova. Wait up."
Nova turned, already recognizing Vera's tone. That low, don't-play-with-me warning kind.
Vera jogged up, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. She wasn't out of breath, but she was clearly holding something in.
"You headed in?"
Nova glanced at her door. "Yeah. Bout to crash."
Vera stepped closer, blocking the doorway with one foot. "Can I say somethin' real quick? Before you shut down for the night?"
Nova raised a brow. "You lookin' real mode right now girl, I'm too tired."
"Just listen, it'll take just a few tough girl."
Nova chuckled, but let her hand fall from the door controls. Vera leaned against the wall beside her.
"What was that?" she said, quieter now. "You and X. That wasn't just training, that was... I don't even know. Some poetic, deadly, synchronized art piece."
Nova smirked faintly. "You saw that."
"Look Nova, I don't know what the hell he wants from you," Vera shot back. "And neither do you, so don't be stupid Nova. Maybe you should be careful."
Nova's smile faded, her expression tightening.
"Look, I know you think he cool 'cause he helped you out. Letter from your mom. Sat with you when you were hurt. All that. But that don't mean he's safe, Nova."
Nova sighed, leaning back against the doorframe. "Look, i can take care of myself aight, I know better than that."
"Obviously not," Vera said, sharp. "Your showin' him everything. How you move. How you think. Every combo you got. What if you end up facin' him in the finals Nova, think about it?"
Nova didn't answer right away. Her eyes lowered, thoughts tangled.
"I get it," she said finally. "But, I'm watchin' too. I'm studyin' him same way he studyin' me.It's how I work."
Vera studied her a moment, then nodded slowly.
"Just don't let skill and silence fool you. The deadliest ones don't always growl."
Nova smirked. "You practicin' speeches now?"
Vera rolled her eyes as they both laughed. "Go to bed, fool.I'll see you in the morning ok?"
Nova nodded then tapped the lock panel. The door slid open with a soft hiss. She looked over her shoulder at Vera.
"Thanks for lookin' out."
Vera stepped back and gave her a quick nod "Anytime. Just don't forget who you are, Rose."
Nova disappeared inside, the door sealing behind her with a soft hiss. Vera stood there a second longer, then walked off, her boots echoing in the hall.
Inside, Nova leaned against the door for a moment, alone again, her head spinning, not from fear, but from the strange weight of connection.
And from a helmeted shadow she couldn't stop thinking about.