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Amane Yugi walked the streets of the night, his small tote of matches held to his chest as he wandered the city.
With his head bare and his feet uncovered, his ears and toes felt the prick of cold air and frosty cobblestone aching into his bones.
The evening had not been kind to Amane. Not a single sale took place that night, thus his supply of matches had not decreased even by one. Passersby simply quickened their pace, keeping their eyes forward so unnaturally that it was all too clear he was being avoided.
It had been much easier to sell their wares when Tsukasa had been alive.
The twins made a charming duo as they offered their products to the townspeople. Tsukasa was adept at grabbing people with his unapologetically adorable sales pitches. Eloquent and innocent, he had folks eating out of the palms of his hands. Meanwhile, the less talkative Amane could handle the more logistical and organized process of accepting payment in exchange for inventory.
After Tsukasa had passed, poor Amane was left to take on the burden in a solo capacity. He'd never gotten the hang of it despite watching his brother perform countless times before. And he was sure he would never be able to replicate Tsukasa's success.
A gust of wind blew past Amane and he felt the shiver down his spine hit the nerves in his cold feet as they hit the stone below.
How he wished to escape the frigid air. Scanning the street ahead, he noticed a small alley with a pronounced drift of snow blocking the entrance. He snuck over the drift and found himself in a corridor between two houses that blocked the winter wind. Windows on either wall allowed him enough light to find a spot to settle. A small area with just a dusting of snow.
As he crouched to the ground, Amane tucked his toes beneath himself, pulling his tattered cloak down in an attempt to retain what little body heat he could.
Uncomfortable and cold, this was where he decided to settle for the night. He couldn’t very well return home, having not sold a single match. With no pennies to offer, Amane was sure his family would show him as much warmth as the sharp air that turned his empty hands blue.
When a shadow blocked the light from one of the windows, Amane looked up. The edges of the glow flickered as people walked past the window and he could tell the family inside was gathering around the flame of a furnace.
Flame…
Amane gripped his small tote and pulled one matchstick out. Twirling it between his thumb and forefinger, he stared at the red dot at the top.
Surely, it would be alright to light just a couple. Just for a small reprieve of warmth.
Grasping the small wooden pick tightly, Amane reached behind himself and struck the match against the rough brick of the building and watched as the flame sparked to life in his hand.
Though small, the gold flame sat strong and bright and Amane could feel waves of heat upon his reddened cheeks.
He gazed into the glow and in it he saw a wonderful sight. Inside the flame, he recognized the form of the wood stove at home and the two shapes that sat in front of it.
Tsukasa and Amane always sat in front of the stove on blizzarding nights. They would huddle together as they watched the flames lick at the logs inside the grated doors.
“Put in another one, Amane,” he watched Tsukasa ask. When the older twin obliged, the younger stared at the sparks and growing flame in amazement as the fire consumed the log.
Amane remembered those eyes, gold and wide like the small flame in his hand. They sparkled with curiosity of the world around them and a fearlessness that allowed him to explore as he pleased.
Giggling, Tsukasa threw in yet another log and another and another, getting lost in the excitement of the crackling sounds that filled the room.
“Tsu, stop…!” Amane pleaded, trying to tug him back by his shirt. “You’ll snuff out the--”
Fsst.
The burnt out match in his hand was black and crisp as a small stream of smoke rose from the crooked head of the little wooden rod.
A sigh left his lips as he let the match fall to the ground, feeling the rush of cold return against his skin. The smell of the burnt match lingered and filled his nostrils with smoke and sulfur. Taking a deep inhale, he let the scent fill his lungs, the aroma reminiscent of the warmth that once was in front of him, and he hoped that the ghost of the flame might warm him from the inside.
However, upon taking another breath, Amane was met with the savory scent of meat. He looked up, following the perk of his nose, and saw the open window where a family must have been sitting down to supper. Sniffing the air, he wondered what could smell so delicious. Turkey? Perhaps duck? Maybe even a fresh roasted goose?
Without another thought, Amane pulled another match from his tote and struck it against the brick behind him once again. Sputtering to life, the flame danced as the yellow glow spread before him and he was presented with a bountiful spread of food on a snowy white tablecloth.
Drool slid from the corner of his mouth as he observed the feast. Warm bread rolls sat in a basket, nestled against each other, with butters and jams acting as their neighbors. A large bowl of salad filled with lush greens and pops of colorful veggies refreshed the table. Steam flew from a pot of stew, creamy in color and texture.
But most magnificent was the golden brown goose that sat on the center platter. It shone with a glaze and decadence the likes of which Amane and Tsukasa had only dreamed of many times as they had walked past city butcher shops and peeped in the windows of much more lucrative homes.
“You’ll see, Amane!” he remembered his brother declaring. “One day I’ll get us a bird ten times as big as that one and we’ll stuff our bellies so full that we won’t go another night hungry for the rest of our lives!”
If only Tsukasa could have seen a beautiful supper like the one that laid before Amane’s eyes.
Before Amane even had a chance to reach out and partake in the meal, the match fizzled out, taking the whole dinner service with it. And once again, he was left alone in the cold darkness, a blackened matchstick in his hand.
Only a short moment of silence passed before Amane drew another match from his sack, the thought of its impending warmth enticing him to strike it against the wall again.
More sparks flew from the head of the stick this time and spread before his eyes before settling upon a tall and glorious Christmas tree. Amane gasped at its splendor, the sparks becoming lights strung across the branches. Tinsel wrapped around its full form along with ribbons and beads of golds, reds, and greens. Ornaments and baubles glittered as the lights bounced off the festive orbs.
So large and beautiful, Amane reached his hands toward the lights and his eyes followed the small glimmers up the tree. As the match went out, his eyes continued up and up until the Christmas lights joined the stars in the nighttime sky.
Just as the lights took their place among the stars, Amane watched one fall across the sky, leaving a trail of stardust. “Ah, someone is dying,” he said to himself, remembering the tale he and Tsukasa had heard long ago that when a star falls from the sky, a soul is leaving the earth.
He remembered watching the sky with his brother and wishing each falling star they’d see a safe journey together, eventually falling asleep as they leaned against each other.
Once more, Amane struck a match against the wall behind him, and as he brought his view down from the sky, his gaze landed on a pair of golden eyes that matched his own as his younger twin brother stood in front of him, vivid and clear.
“Ts-Tsukasa,” Amane stuttered as tears gathered on his lashes. “Tsukasa, is that you?”
That familiar smile stayed plastered to his brother’s face and Amane felt his tears finally fall as he looked upon Tsukasa. The boy’s complexion was lively and warm, as if he had been standing in the warmth of a grand fireplace. His cheeks were full and his skin was slightly plump, not at all like the emaciated child that could barely fill out his winter jacket. And he looked so alive that Amane knew he could only be another vision.
“Tsu, please take me with you,” he begged. “Once the match burns out I know you’ll disappear again! Just like the stove we used to warm ourselves in front of, and the big roasted goose, and the wonderful Christmas tree!” Amane rose to his feet, taking his tote of matches from his cloak. “I don’t want you to go again!” he cried as he set to lighting the bundle of matches.
With each new strike against the brick, Amane felt the heat grow and he choked out sobs as the tears stung his eyes, blurring the brightness he created in the alley.
Desperate to keep Tsukasa with him as long as he could, Amane continued lighting match after match until he had none to spare. And when they were all burning, he gaped at his brother who had never looked brighter or warmer.
Tsukasa took a step toward Amane and took his hands into his own. “C’mon Amane,” he urged with a soft grin, pulling him up into the air.
Together they flew up and up and up, high above the earth, giggling as they ran through the fields of stars. Stardust tickled Amane’s nose as the two swam through the Milky Way.
Where they were, there was no hunger. There was no cold. There was no pain. There was just the two of them for forever, as they had been before. And as they could be from now on.
When the sun rose to bring dawn to the city, there Amane lay.
His skin was pale and a serene smile sat upon his face as his body leaned against the wall, frozen with no trace of life left to be found.
Folks looked on sadly as they observed the little corpse surrounded by hundreds of burnt matches. Many pitied the little boy who had tried to warm himself by the flame of his collection of small matchsticks.
All Amane could do was smile from above at the passersby who had no way of knowing the wonderful things he’d seen the night before or the joy he felt as he sat next to his brother, Tsukasa. Together, as they were meant to be.