Chapter Text
As winter started to approach Algebralia, the flowers at the equation playground began to disappear. They didn’t just up and vanish one day. It just got colder and colder, until no flowers remained naturally. All the ones left were already in houses, or were artificial, or were grown somewhere more suited for flowers to bloom, then transported for sale.
X was sitting on a swing, not really swinging. Four was right next to him, swinging very fast. Four saw X pass by as a blur, not really registering that X wasn’t moving.
Meanwhile, X sat, staring at the floor. The sand was covered by snow. The little wildflowers growing at the edges of the swings where no one had bothered to go in and pick them were now fully covered, or maybe just gone entirely. X liked winter! The first thing he thought of was what to get Four for Christmas. It was maybe 2 months away now, but X still wanted to have the time to think. Four was important to him! His only treasure! He had to give him something that proved that. He knew Four would do the same.
“Four?”
Four began to slow down, realizing as he slowed to humanly achievable levels that X was, in fact, not moving.
“X! Why weren’t you swinging?”
Four speaks with an obvious frown, his legs pushing into the ground to give him a less wobbly stop.
“I unno. I was thinking.”
Four, as he would, went to make a joke about X thinking, but was stopped.
“What are we doing for Christmas this year?”
Right. Four hadn’t thought about that. He sort of assumed they’d do the same thing they always do. Maybe X wanted to do something different…?
“Quick, Four, think of something cool.”
X heard that.
“I heard that.”
Oh. Great. Four ponders, not exactly sure where to lead this. He thought X liked their usual.
“I don't know. I thought we were doing the usual.”
X didn’t like that. He liked the usual! But this time it felt different. The idea of everything being the same made X feel dizzy. Why wouldn’t he want everything to be the same? That’s how it’s always been, and how it always will be. Why did the idea create a bubble in his throat?
“Oh, yeah! Hooray!”
His heart wasn’t in it. It didn’t feel the usual elation it did when Four said anything to him. He felt like there was something else there, overriding his usual enthusiasm and sheer joy whenever Four spoke.
There was something in his heart. And X had no idea what it was.
Four shifted uncomfortably. Was X uncomfortable? If he wanted to do something else, he wouldn’t mind! If X was just being compliant as he usually annoyingly is, then maybe he should push further? Besides, he wouldn’t mind doing something else this year!
“Hmm. Maybe it would be fun to do something else? Perhaps we can invite Two over to bake cookies with us?”
X felt like he couldn’t breathe when Four said that. He panics, choking out a response.
“Nnnnnnnnnno, I'd rather it just be us two!”
Four shrugs. He didn’t think much of it. If X found their usual routine was special with him specifically, who was he to distract from that? Besides, X looked sort of uncomfortable with the idea anyway. Maybe changing current traditions wasn’t a good idea.
“Oh, okay! Sure!”
X wasn’t feeling great. Why was that? Maybe he was just sad about the flowers. He likes the flowers! But if it was just the flowers, then it’d be all in his brain. Was it Four? Nooo, that couldn’t be it! Why would he feel bad because of Four? Four was awesome! They hung out all the time (okay, well, they lived together so of course they did, but still!)! Why would thinking about Four hurt? He loves Four! A lot!
At that thought, the feeling that there was something inside of his heart felt all too real. Too noticeable. He sort of assumed that when a plant grew roots, it’d squirm around, trying to find the correct spot. That’s why the roots were so squiggly and uneven. He was starting to think he was right, because that’s what he was feeling right now. It hurt. Usually, when his insides were scrambled or moved around, it felt fine! Like a plushie when its forehead was squished in! This was the first time it’d ever really, genuinely hurt. Something had crawled into his heart and begun to grow roots. He couldn’t even reach in there to pull it out.
He stood up from the swing. Four noticed immediately, as he was sitting right beside him.
“X? Where are you going?”
Four starts to follow. This is going so well!! He stops, turning to face Four, who looks mildly annoyed. Aw.
“I’m going back home! I’m not feeling good.”
Four pauses, before giving him a thumbs up and beginning to walk with X.
“Okay!”
Silence. X starts to follow Four, trailing behind slightly. He’s nervous. Why is this happening? Is it a big issue? Does this really have something to do with Four? He isn’t sure. Right now, he wants to go home. He’s honestly been feeling sort of lousy today.
“X! I need to tell you about my ideas for this year’s Christmas Party! We have around 12 people, so I was thinking we could- “
X zoned out. He liked listening to Four speak! But his head hurt too much to retain more information. So he decided to zone out for now. If Four needed his input, he’d just think fast!!
Luckily, Four didn’t seem to need his input. Which he was glad about, since usually Four asked him a lot of questions and suggested things for him to think about! And he really didn’t have the brain space for that right now.
They got back to their house. Four said something about changing up the color scheme this year to something less jarring than red and green. X went to his room.
X opened the door, blinking a few times once he realized he was already back at his room. Was he that tired? No matter! He could just lay down for a bit. He sat on his bed. Most of the pillows and shaped soft items, as well as a blanket, had been placed to create a little fort for him to rest in. He had the rest of his soft items where he lay usually. He crawls into his little fort, curling up like a strange rat, or perhaps more so like a cat in a particular spot where the window lets in the sun. He’s not feeling great right now. Or, more literally, he feels like whatever was inside him was hurting more. It should leave, pretty please!
.
When saying please didn’t work, he curled up further, feeling something start to creep up his throat. He shifted to the side slightly. He didn’t really want to get up, and if he threw up, he didn’t want to throw up where he’d need to leave or on his soft little guys. So, for the price of mild discomfort, he shifted his position. He held one of his plushies slightly tighter. It was more shape than ball, which was nice. It, despite being more shape than ball, didn’t have much shape. It squished like slime in his hands. It helped that the thing had very little shape, because if it had any more shape, he’d be hurting it with how tightly he was holding it.
He felt something solid creep up his throat.
He suddenly becomes slightly more aware of his throat. It hurt. There was something in there, and he had to get it out. It was going to choke him.
He lets out a cough. It’s dry.
And another. He doesn’t know what the thing is, but it’s stuck. He should have gotten some water or something to try to wash it away. He feels it shift.
Another cough. It’s! It’s out! He spits it up, relieved that whatever was in his throat was no longer choking him out!
He stares down at his free hand.
A blue petal lays in his hand.
He was right about the roots.