—-10's POV—

I had a good night's sleep aside from that annoying call. I've forgiven Three already but I will never forget that. Just kidding reader! I'm ok with what she did! Anyway, I get up and prepare breakfast.

I was way too excited to fly this morning that I left half of my toast on the table, headed out with my jetpack and blasted off. Once again, it feels so great to be up here. The sun is shining and it's a perfect sunny day. It would be a shame if it suddenly started raining, I think to myself.

I look down at the houses below me and spot Nine's home. The lights still aren't on. Is he asleep? Well, probably, since it's 6 in the morning.

I fly over to park 26 where we like to meet up. Sure enough, I spot Twenty-Two.

But he's alone. Eleven likes soccer and he's double eleven, isn't he? He loves soccer, so why did he come here alone? I float down to Twenty Two with the use of my parachute.

"Good morning! You do love soccer, right? But who are you going to play against?"

"You know how there can be 11 players on one team?"

"Yes."

"And I'm double Eleven. I'm 2 soccer teams all on my own!"

And I hear the sound of subtraction.

22=11+11

Don't worry readers, this is perfectly normal. Numberhumans do it all the time. In front of me, I see two Elevens. One red female and one blue male. Once again, they split.

11=1+1+1+1+1+1+1+1+1+1+1

Now I see two whole teams in front of me ready to play.

"Wait, who's keeping score? Oh, I know! I can!"

And we start playing.

—-9's POV—-

I'm here at the hospital, lying on a bed. I'm not allowed to split into any smaller number because that would mean an extra COVID-19 case. From me. And I can't go back home. I feel like I can't handle this on my own.. am I going to have to tell someone..? I might be able to.. wait.. no, not again, I might spread it, no, no-

"ACHOOOO!"

People are acting like nothing just happened. Good. I'd rather not make a big deal out of it.

Somenumber is walking towards me covered in what looked like a lab coat.

He or she has a clipboard in one hand and a pen in another. A similiar looking Number followed behind the first, but this time holding a camera on a stand.

I. Hate. Interviews.

—-10's POV—-

We played the day away and I'm at home checking the news. I don't usually do this, but if it means not having Three call me in the middle of the night then I suppose I'd do it. I find a reliable news channel and choose it. I listen and hear the words

'..is now using the test-and-trace technique to look for more

possible cases. Coming up next is an interview with the 2nd

COVID-19 case, which will later help trace where the next one

might be.

"Good evening Numberland, I am Zero. Today I am here to

interview the 2nd COVID-19 case, who does not want his name

nor his face to be revealed to the public. Let's start the interview.

Where do you live?"

"I live in area 27, the house near street 695."

"Have you traveled abroad to any country in the past month?"

"No I haven't."

"Have you been experiencing COVID-19 symptoms? If so, which

of these symptoms do you feel the most?"

"Mostly fevers and colds with some sneezing. But sometimes,

rarely, I mean, I have trouble breathing."

"If you're comfortable with me asking, are you worried about

any of your close friends or family members being infected with

COVID-19 because of you?"

"......I don't think I want to respond to that."

"Thank you for your time and patience. We hope you feel better.."'

etc.

The voice of the 2nd case sounds so familiar.. but anyway, I was thinking about the address of the 2nd case. It's so close to Nine's home, it might as well be across the street! I better check if he's okay. I grab my keys and open the front door. I love the fresh air at night. Maybe I should do this more often.

 I head for Nine's home, right beside mine. I knock on his door. No response. I ring the doorbell. Nothing. I go back home to grab my jetpack. Once I'm out again, I fly up to his bedroom window and take a peek. His bed is empty and messy, as if he'd been twisting and tuning in bed. Next to it is a desk facing me. Propped on it is an open notebook next to a pen. But he isn't here. He hasn't been here since yesterday. Where could he be? He's.. gone.