Disclaimer: Hetalia doesn't belong to me. A Christmas Carol, to which this is based on, belonged to Charles Dickins, may the good Lord rest his soul.
Marley was dead - to begin with. And when Marley died, Lovino Vargas was the only friend at his funeral.
Lovino was a mean man - an anti-social, tight-fisted Italian. He was as hard and as sharp as flint, secretive and solitary. The cold inside him froze his still-young face, nipped his already-red cheeks and shrivelled his sharp eyes. Frost seemed to shine on his clothes and face. He was as bitter as the coldest wind.
Nobody ever stopped Lovino in the street to say a friendly word. No beggar ever begged from him. No child ever asked him what time it was. Did Lovino care? No! He liked more than anything to keep people at a distance. And at Christmas he didn't thaw out, not even by one degree.
Our story begin on a Christmas Eve, Lovino was busy counting money. It was cold, bleak, foggy weather. It was only just after three in the afternoon but it was already dark. The door of Lovino's office was open so he could keep an eye on his clerk and ex-friend, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, a Spaniard who always smiled no matter what was thrown at him. He was in a cold dark room copying letters by hand as Lovino refused to buy a computer to make his life easier. Because of a storm last week, they had reverted to the old-fashioned methods of fires and candles for light, Antonio's own fire was so small that it looked like a single coal, but he couldn't make it any larger because Lovino kept the coal in his room. The Spaniard tried to warm himself in front of his candle.
"A merry Christmas, Uncle Lovino!" a cheerful voice cried. It was the voice of Lovino's adoptive nephew, Gino.
"Oh, Chigi!" Lovino replied. He almost hated his younger brother's adoptive son. Why couldn't Feliciano be straight like him? Why did he have to marry that damn potato bastard from Germany?
Gino was hot from walking in the fog and frost that his face glowed red and his eyes sparkled.
"I'm sure you don't mean that, Uncle Lovino!" he replied.
"I do," Lovino replied. "Merry Christmas, indeed. What right do you have to be merry? You're poor, because of your retarded fathers! Oh, Chigi!"
"Don't be cross, Uncle Lovino!"
"What else do you expect from me?" Lovino said, "When I live in a world full of bastards? Merry Christmas! Christmas is just a time for paying bills when you haven't got enough money. If I had my way, every bastard who says "Merry Christmas" would be boiled in his own pudding. You celebrate Christmas your way and let me celebrate it in mine."
"But you don't celebrate Christmas!" Gino replied. "It's a good time. It's the only time in the year when people think of each other and not themselves."
Antonio clapped loudly. He poked his fire again, putting out the last little spark.
"If I hear another sound from you," Lovino shouted at Antonio, completely ignoring Gino, "you'll lose your job."
"Come and eat Christmas dinner with us tomorrow," Gino begged.
"No," Lovino replied. "Go away."
"A Merry Christmas, Uncle Lovino," Gino said kindly. "And also to you, Mr Antonio."
As he went out two lovely women came in. But Lovino had long since given up on women...not after her. "Can we speak to Mr Vargas or Mr Marley?" one of them asked. "Both names are written on the door."
"Mr Marley has been dead for seven years,"Lovino told her. "He died seven years ago tonight."
"At this festive time of year, Mr Vargas," the woman continued, "we must think of the poor who suffer greatly."
"Aren't there prisons or brothels for them?" Lovino asked
"There are," the woman replied. "But they can't give them cheer. That's why a few of us are starting a fund to buy food, drink and something warm for Christmas. How much can you give, Mr Vargas?"
"Nothing!" Lovino replied. "I want to be left alone. I help to support the prisons through taxes and the brothels are just a waste of space, those badly off should go there."
"Many would rather die than do that," the woman replied.
"Then they die," Lovino said. "There are already too many people on Earth. Good afternoon, ladies!"
As soon as the ladies had left, Lovino had gone back to work. Meanwhile, the fog and the darkness thickened and the cold grew worse. At last it was time to close the office.
"You'll want tomorrow off, I suppose?" Lovino asked Antonio.
"If it's ok, sir," his clerk replied. He had once called Lovino 'Lovi', but after his marriage, he lost his right to say that.
"It's not," Lovino replied, "and it's not fair. Why should I pay you a day's wages for no work?"
"Christmas is only once a year, sir."
"A poor excuse!" Lovino said. "But I suppose you must have the day off. But you start earlier the following day."
Lovino left and ate alone at his usual restaurant. Them he went home to bed. He lived a huge house which had once belonged to his Marley. It was gloomy and hidden away in a street where nobody else but Lovino lived. Any other houses along the street were bought and let as offices by Lovino.
It was so dark that even Lovino had to grope his way to his front door. As he out his key in the lock, he stared I'm amazement. The shape of the door knocker had changed - into Marley's face.