Walking around the Equation Playground, starved for something to do, you now find yourself in search of a certain grey number named Nine. All day, you had watched Nine scurry about, hands slapped tightly over his eyes, screaming about how he 'just can't find them!'. It's not any of your buisness, no, you'd honestly rather eat dirt. But then again, it's not like you have anything better to do, and somebody has to keep track of him. Most of the numbers are loons, at best, and you'd rather not deal with one of Nine's emotional breakdowns.

Turning the corner, you spot Nine crouched down next to the brightly coloured swings, blindly scuffing up and patting the grass in search for something. When you walk over to him, though...

"Don't look at me!" Nine yells, panic throbbing in his tone. He covers his face as best he can with his arms, bottom lip jutted out and quivering. Finally, you notice that he's missing his one key feature; his sunnies. Makes sense, you've never seen him with the damn things off.

"I-I'm hideous!" He whines, continuing his blind search for his oh-so-precious shades.