|The Little Match Boy
Author: FrozenBrokenSunflower PM
Ivan- a young orphan, attempts to sell matches on a snowy Christmas in Russia. "I want to be anywhere but here." Chibi!Ivan, Yao. Co-Written with Salty Peanuts.Rated: Fiction K - English - Angst/Tragedy - Russia & China - Words: 1,910 - Reviews: 14 - Favs: 32 - Follows: 4 - Published: 05-07-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8095757
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The Little Match Boy
I saw a little Disney clip, originally named 'The Little Match Girl'. Co-Written with Salty Peanuts. (Meh wifey.)
"Would you like to buy some matches?" A pale, chubby hand held a small bunch of matches out, for everyone passing by in their warm, heavy coats to see.
Some strangers gave in a bit, and glanced in his direction, a look of utmost pity on their cold face. Most though, just walked by his little dark corner, completely ignoring the desperately sugar-sweet voice calling out.
"Matches? Matches, here..." He croaked dryly, but received no answer. After being out in the cold- during Christmas, since morning, his enthusiasm was dying down.
He pouted, his spirits has finally been brought down to a level that could not be revived. The small boy sat his behind down on the plush snow. The cold seeped through every thin layer of clothing he had on. Descending into a shivering fit for the umpteenth time today, he opened one of the many boxes he had in his pouch, and brought out one match for himself.
Glaring at the small twig, he mustered all the strength he had in his freezing hand and lit it. A sense of fulfillment rushed through his veins, watching the orange-red flame glow, warming his face slightly.
How he wished he was in a warm house, by a warm fire, so he wouldn't have to worry about the frigid cold winds outside. He could just imagine himself in a house just like that. His mind let him believe that he was just a few degrees warmer, by thinking those thoughts.
The match went out,
and left him in the dark, snowy night, no fire to amuse himself with.
From the distance came a bout of laughter, as Ivan turned his head, tired, but curious. There were two teenagers in school uniforms, who were chatting animatedly with each other. They looked like they were good friends, and that made Ivan smile. Even if he had no friends, he couldn't help but feel happy for them.
They walked by his makeshift shop.
"Would you like to buy some matches... sir? Some customer flattery wouldn't hurt...
The first boy, the blond one with shoulder length hair, swat his hand at him dismissively. "Naw, I don't think we need any, thanks though!" He winked at the child, and continued walking.
The second boy, whose hair style was similar to that of his partner, but had chestnut locks, turned to look at him. He gave Ivan a smile, which Ivan eagerly returned, and waved at him with his stiff, frost-bitten wrist. Ivan felt a slight tingle of warmth in his heart after that, which lasted him for a few minutes before the cold became too much, and he had to strike another one.
This time, instead of dreaming up a fire to warm him. He thought of a friend that would be there. Not only would the friend's body heat be there to warm him up, the feeling of having a friend would just set his heart on fire.
He told his head to conjure up an imaginary friend for him, someone nice-looking. But it just didn't. All he could make out was someone with pretty eyes, and small hands, like his mother used to have.. His mind wouldn't give him anything more to work with. Ivan pouted, annoyed he couldn't even get an imaginary friend.
The match went out,
and when he looked back up, there was a pair of dark blue eyes staring at him intensely.
"W-Would you like to buy some matches, miss?" he asked quietly, with the most pleading expression he could morph his face into.
She blushed slightly, and looked up an older-looking girl standing beside her. Ivan's eyes widened as his eyes gazed up her form, stopping momentarily at one particular spot.
"Can we take him home? He doesn't look like he has a home." the girl asked, her own eyes begging.
On the woman's own face, was a look of pity, but laced with disgust. Ivan had a feeling that she was a nice person, and was especially protective of the people she cared about. Ivan liked people like that and wished his own father was like that.
But, sadly, in this situation, Ivan was the outsider that the older woman wanted to protect her little sister from.
She stared at Ivan, her own, lighter blue eyes gazed into his own purple ones, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Natalia, stay away from him, do you understand?" Her voice seemed to have a menacing aura to it.
"But why? He's going to freeze if we don't give help right away!" Her sister protested.
"Then let him freeze," the woman uttered, in a slightly bitter tone, "God would be pleased with one less devil child living on his land."
Ivan's eyes widened at the words that fell from the seemingly kind woman's mouth, his lips quivered, and felt tears well up and want to spill out, but he held them in. He felt a bit of anger boil up in his freezing veins, warming him, his cheeks flushing with anger.
"Let's go." the woman pulled harshly on the small girl's wrist, and dragged her down the street.
The look on the girl's face showed that she clearly didn't believe a word her sister said. She brought a gloved hand up to wave him goodbye, tears rolling freely down her face.
Ivan felt a few tears drip from his eyes. The warm droplets seemed to freeze on his face, but he couldn't bring himself to wipe them away. Again, he took a match, and lit it.
He wished he was in another place, someplace warm, not hot though. Just warm. Because even if he didn't have friends, he wouldn't be freezing to death or having to sell matches.
Ivan urged his mind to take him somewhere nice. He had heard of places that were warm, with something called sand, and warm water. A smile lit his face once more, as his mind sort of imagined it. Himself- smiling happily as he walked around in the 'sand', and the water rolling over his feet.
He opened his eyes, and watched the match slowly go out.
Before his eyes, was a slightly short man, dressed in a thick red coat, he had never seen someone in a coat in such a deep red before. The man was clearly a foreigner, for his eyes were smaller and a bit slanted compared to the ones around here. His skin was a just a tinge darker, which made it appear almost yellow- or golden. The thing about this man, is that he had long, dark hair, that moved with every gust of the wind.
"Why are you out here, child?" He asked. His voice was firm, but soft. The kind of voice that Ivan has always dreamt would sing him to sleep.
"Would you like to buy a match?"
The man shook his head and smiled pleasantly. "You didn't answer my question. It's cold outside, shouldn't you be at home?"
"I don't have a home!" Ivan replied, his voice surprisingly cheerful.
"And why not?" he questioned, and to Ivan's delight, sat down right next to him.
"I'm an orphan, my mommy and daddy had me, but my dad didn't think he could support all of us, so he put me out on the streets."
"Why didn't he put you in a orphanage? You have those here, right?" He asked, genuinely worried.
"There isn't one around here. So here I am, selling matches a nice guy gave me so I can hopefully get money." Ivan explained, his chapped lips tilted into a smile, but his eyes told a different story.
"Mr. Wang, we must get going!" A voice came from a man standing in front of a carriage. He looked similar to Yao, but with shorter hair. Maybe they were brothers.
"Give me a few more moments please, Hong."
The man put an arm around the boy, and said, "I'm sorry to hear that, child. But, I'm afraid I cannot be of much assistance to you. I suppose the best I can do is to keep you company for a little while, if you would like."
Ivan shuffled closer into the man's arms, and closed his eyes. He felt so warm, so wonderful. It had been so long since he had been held by anyone. For that one moment he felt like his mother had come back to him.
"You have a name? Mine is Yao."
"Ivan..." He mumbled barely into Yao's coat.
"Your father has given you a nice name, Ivan." He replied, "I hope you'll find fortune someday."
Yes, fortune. How Ivan wished he would. A nice home by the beach, away from this frosty dungeon.
Ivan shook his head. That would be nice, but he knew it was something he could never attain.
"Thank you...I'm happy right now though." he mumbled.
"Oh, and why is that?" Yao questioned, bringing the boy closer, hoping to warm him up more.
"I have someone to talk to, and you're warm." Ivan smiled up at the man.
"I can imagine you're cold." he said as he picked up Ivan and placed him on his coat-covered lap, in an attempt to defrost the boy.
Ivan let out a contented sigh, as the heat felt so good on his near-frozen body.
"T-Thank you." he said, while leaning his head against the warm figure.
"It's the least I could do." he said, while ruffling the silvery hair on his head.
"Hurry up! We'll be late for the meeting!" the man called from the carriage.
"Just a few more minutes please! I won't be much longer." Yao yelled, holding Ivan closer to reassure him he won't be leaving right then.
"You don't have to stay just for me, I'll be fine, I've made it this far..." he said, even though he never wanted Yao to leave.
Yao shook his head, "I'm not leaving just yet."
"O-Okay." he sighed, knowing that their time left together was short.
"Look! Ivan, a shooting star!" Yao pointed to the sky, and Ivan looked up fast enough to see the thing zip across the sky. "Make a wish."
"I wish I was somewhere else...Maybe, with Yao there." he whispered so quietly, Yao could only strain to hear. "I know you're only a star, but please. I want to be happy forever, with him."
Yao smiled wistfully, and held Ivan tight. He looked down to see Ivan's eyes closing, probably in sleep.
He watched Ivan for a second, his cheeks were so rosy and round. Ivan would have been even cuter if he was fed well. Yao's eyes widened, when he saw that the small chest no longer rose up and down.
"Ivan?" he hissed. "Ivan!"
The child made no sound or motion, but the same, annoyingly cheerful smile was on his face.
Yao sighed, the child just died in his arms. He was in a place other than here,