Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ The Little Match-Seller ❯ One-Shot

Disclaimer: I don't own YGO, nor the original tale of The Little Match-
Seller

Beta: Stained *GLOMPS WILDLY TwT *

Warnings: May make you teary-eyed, get the tissues handy

A/N: I forgot that I had this one. I was part of a fairytale challenge where we had to take an old fairytale and remake it using the YGO characters. I like the original story a lot, but I HATE the ending T.T So I couldn't do that to the bois and rewrote it to make it happy. Yes, I'm a sucker for happy endings.

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A bitter cold wind blew, chilling the air on this, the last day of the year. The streets grew empty as people found their way to their warm and loving homes where they would celebrate the coming of the new year with food and drink with their cherished ones. There was one lone soul, however, that was not tucked up safe inside by a well stoked fire and feasting away on a delicious dinner. He roamed the streets in tattered clothes and naked feet, fighting against the large snowflakes that swirled all about. The boy had left the house with simple shoes upon his feet, but they were soon soaked through by the snow. When he had removed them to attempt and dry them, a stray dog had made off with one! Of course, he gave chase, but in his pursuit, he had dropped the other and could not find it again. So, he went on his way on bare feet that were red and blue from the cold.

There was a small satchel that hung at the young one's side that carried bundles of matches. He clutched one bundle in his hand while pulling the threadbare rag of a cloak tighter about his shoulders. No one had bought anything from him all day long nor did they toss even a single penny his way. A great rumble sounded from his belly, reminding him of his hunger as well.

"Please stop," he begged it, "I would give you some food if I had some!"

But, it did not listen. And so, the boy crept on while the snow fell heavier and heavier. Great drifts of snow clung to his shaggy, blond hair since he wore no cap or scarf to cover his head. Each window he passed by, he paused to look with a saddened heart. Lights twinkled merrily in every home while families laughed and ate their dinners of roasted meats. Oh, the smells! The delightful smells! There was glazed ham, roasted turkey, roasted goose, and not to mention the sweet smell of the many desserts that had been baking away to be gobbled up later.

A sudden gust of wind threatened to blow him off his little feet. He decided to take shelter in a small alcove he found between two buildings. The roof projected enough to keep most of the snow from falling upon him. He huddled down, drawing his knees to himself and trying to tuck his frozen toes close. It was no use in staving off the cold that he could feel to his very bones. Despite all this, he dared not return home. Not a single match had been sold and there was no money to bring in. If he were to return now, his father would most certainly beat him within an inch of his young life!

The little blond remembered a time when his daddy had not been the cruel man he was today. There had been joy and love and warmth in his house with his mommy and daddy and baby sister. But then his sister had fallen ill and had passed on to heaven. Mommy and daddy started fighting after that until the day that mommy had left. Daddy had said that it was his fault that his sister, Serenity, had died and that mommy was gone. That was when daddy had struck him the first time. No longer was there the happy, loving family that he had once known; it was now replaced with anger, hatred, and cold. He and daddy were forced to leave their home and now lived in a rundown shack. Great, gaping holes were in the walls and roof, sloppily patched up with rags and straw. Perhaps it wasn't so bad to be out here after all.

Shivering once again, his little fingers nearly frozen stiff, he thought that maybe striking a match might help. If he could simply pull out one and strike it upon the wall, then he could warm his hands. Carefully, he wormed one out of the bundle in his hand and tried to light it. The match did not light, for it was far too wet with snow. The others in his bundle were also useless. With a frown, he opened his satchel to seek a dry match.

With a 'scratch', it ignited. It sputtered, threatening to go out, so he guarded it carefully with his tiny palm. The light cast a soft, warm glow, like a candle as he protected it. He smiled slightly as he watched the flickering light dance. It was as if he was seated before a large, iron stone. The embers glowed and the wood snapped as fire licked at it. It was wonderful. The boy stretched out his little feet to warm them in the radiating warmth when, suddenly, the wind blew the flame out. The stove vanished as quickly as the light and all he was left with was the slightly smoking remains of a used match.

He tossed the burnt stick away and struck another. The flame burst forth, casting its light upon the wall. This time, the little one swore that he could see a marvelous feast before him. A large, roasted turkey, with all the trimmings, sat in the middle of the table while colorful confections of every shape and size surrounded it. To his further delight, the turkey leapt up off the platter and waddled towards him enticingly. A fork and knife flanked the bird and jumped up to carve a mouthwatering slice of flesh from the breast. Once again, the flame extinguished and all that was left was a cold, damp wall.

Pulling out another match and lighting it, the little boy found himself now nestled under a Christmas tree. It was larger and more beautiful than any that he had seen in the rich merchants' stores. Delicate ornaments, all the colors of the rainbow, hung here and there with golden candles burning upon the end of each branch. He reached his tiny hand out towards one of the shiny trinkets and the match went out.

The lights dissipated slowly, rising up higher and higher before they appeared to be the very stars themselves. His chocolaty gaze spied one star as it fell, leaving a streak of light in its wake.

'Someone is dying,' he thought solemnly to himself. He had heard once, when Serenity, the only one that had never stopped loving him, was still alive, that when a star falls it means a soul is going up to heaven.

He rubbed another match against the wall, bathing him in its soft glow. But this time, in the firelight, he saw the image of his precious, baby sister standing before him. A smile lit her cherub-like face and she clutched the hand of another figure all aglow with white light. He could not make out the figure's face, but upon seeing Serenity again, he started to cry.

"Serenity! Please take me with you!" he wept, "I know that you will leave as soon as the match burns out; just like the stove, and the turkey, and the Christmas tree!"

Quickly, he began striking the entire bundle of matches so to have Serenity stay longer. The tears froze upon his cheeks while his numb fingers fumbled, but soon the entire bundle was lit and glowing as bright as a small star. He had never seen his sister look so beautiful and happy before. She turned her head to her mysterious, otherworldly companion and gave a silent nod. The figure dropped the girl's hand and reached out, taking the little boy into his arms and holding him close. He gave a smile, eyes beginning to dim, and allowed himself to be taken into the warm embrace.

As dawn broke, the first rays fell upon the alcove and the burnt matches that lay scattered in the snow, but there was no boy with them. Inside a warm house, tucked into a warm bed, with blankets cocooning him and a fire crackling away on the other side of the room, lay the golden haired youth. There were others standing about him while he lay unconscious.

"He was trying to warm himself," some said.

"He would have died out there if we didn't spot him," said others.

"It will be a wonder if he even makes it."

Under the gaze of all that were there, little eyelids began to flutter open. Brown orbs, glossy and dark, slowly focused on what was before him. The first items that registered were the brilliantly sparkling, cerulean gems. As the picture cleared more, he realized he was looking into to the pretty face of a young boy.

Resting his head on folded arms, the blue-eyed boy stared with worried curiosity.

".... Are you an angel?" the fair-tressed one asked in a soft voice filled with wonderment.

Shaking his sable haired head 'no', he whispered, "What is your name?"

"... Joey..."

"My name is Seto."

The boys regarded one another quietly before Seto whispered again, "Will you stay here with me always?"

A few tears came to Joey's eyes, but he nodded slowly and smiled weakly, "… You lied."

Seto was befuddled and lifted his head, "What did I lie about?"

Joey, his first tears of joy in too long spilling down his little face, replied, "... You said you weren't an angel.. But you are.. You're my guardian angel...."

Fin