With a sweet smile, little Annie, dressed in a blue-and-white winter dress made of thick fur, stood before the "Little Match Girl." The girl wore a thin linen smock and an equally filthy apron. Her bare feet were red from the cold, her hair was speckled with snow, and she watched Annie with a gloomy expression through her drooping eyelids.
Annie wasn't afraid of her. In fact, whether it was a "Little Match Girl" or a demon from Hell, it really wasn't easy to find anything in this endless multiverse that could scare her.
"Buy some matches..."
"Long, bright matches..."
The girl continued in a sinister voice, her lips purple with cold.
An odd gleam shone in her eyes as she stared fixedly at the well-dressed girl standing before her. For some reason, the stranger showed no sign of fear—only curiosity and amusement.
"Of course I'll buy some!"
(*^▽^*)
"Tell me, how much are your matches?"
(°つ°)
Annie walked right up to her, paying no heed to the girl's supposedly frightening stare, her corpse-like voice, or her purple face. After looking her over once more, little Annie turned her attention to the matches clutched in the girl's hand.
She never played with matches, but now that she was full and had nothing better to do, she really wanted to see what this little thing could get up to.
"..."
"One match costs one crown..."
The Little Match Girl finally named her price, trembling as she spoke.
It was clearly outrageous. One crown was worth a hundred orles, while a match was worth at most one. Yet, for some reason, this girl had named such an absurd price. Under normal circumstances—during the day, for instance—the townsfolk would have cursed her out and walked away. Nobody wanted to be a sucker, paying