COULD HAVE BEANS

Epilogue

So Many Years Have Passed

Life is hard when you're small.

Arrietty knows this, she's a borrower. She borrows things from humans that they won't miss, little trinkets like earrings, pins and buttons. She and her family need to take these things from humans because they have no other way of survival. Their kind is dying out, and there are few of them left in the world. They just aren't adept to the environment human beans keep changing.

But now Arrietty knows that humans aren't the insensitive creatures she was taught to believe. They don't only do things in their best interest, they are considerate and they are open-minded to even the ideas that reach levels of insanity. Beans are unlike any Borrower she has ever met, and she misses them every day.

Arrietty wakes up warm and with sunlight streaming through the window of her bedroom. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she realizes that she's thirty today.

She's thirty, still living with her parents, yet to find a kind, princely Borrower husband to sweep her off her feet and take her away from the banality of the everyday.

She sighs deeply. Time flies too quickly for her liking.

Glancing at the empty vial on her desk, she's hit with a pang of yearning, the only memento of a happier, more exciting time in her life. One that was less mundane and monotonous. Waking up every day as a Bean made her feel really and truly alive.

It's not that life as a Borrower is particularly grueling, it's just pedestrian. She wakes up at the crack of dawn, she's still as early a riser as she had ever been. She cooks breakfast for her family, watches them scoop up the food gone cold. She tends to the shrubbery overgrown, sprouting sporadically in the fissures in the walls. She borrows with her father until late afternoon. She bathes. She cleans the house. She borrows with her father at night. Then she slips into the sheets of her bed, her head hits the pillow, she sleeps. Then the next day it happens all over again.

Every now and then—every day—every time she catches a glimpse of the vial or anything that possibly reminds her of a past life—she aches on the inside.

Arrietty sits at her mirror, aimlessly brushing through her long hair. She's trimmed it every month, but it just grows to untamable lengths, to the extent that she just hacks off chunks at a time. She wonders what her Bean family might be doing now. Perhaps Kazu would be off on his way to school. Maybe Rena would be gardening.

She glances at her clock. It's almost exactly 7:15am, which means Takeo is standing at the bus stop, right now, watching the cars pass by, on his way to work. She smiles unconsciously.

Happy birthday, she thinks to herself. Make a wish, and let it dissipate into the air. I wish I could go back there. Just for a little while. Just forever. A little slice of forever would be nice.

"Now I don't think you could stand just a little slice of infinity, could you?" A voice says. Though she hasn't heard it for a good three years, Arrietty grimaces at the sound.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, my dear?"

She turns around and greeted with a sudden and familiar yellow-toothed smile.

"Why yes, a few years."

"I wonder." The Borrower Witch smirks. "Do I seem to always run into you on your birthdays?"

"It's no longer chance the third time around." She murmurs, straightening the wayward belongings on her desk. She takes care to keep the vial upright.

"Still as plucky as ever, aren't you, Arrietty?"

Arrietty turns her head away. "You shouldn't have come back for me. I'm fine with my life now."

The Witch stifles a snort. "Don't joke around, dearie. You and I both know that is an almost pathetically pitiful lie." The elderly woman takes a good glance around the room. "Tell me, why would a girl as intelligent and headstrong and pugnacious as you not have found a husband by now? By thirty? I mean, you're not ugly, luckily for you."

The girl scoffs. "I don't need you anymore."

"I thought you said you had questions for me." The Witch mentions lightly. "Aren't you curious about what happened that night?"

Arrietty sits on her bed. "A little, but not enough for me to risk anything precious to me."

"This won't cost you a thing."

"Fine, I'll bite." Arrietty mutters, throwing up her hands. "Why did you come back here, after all this time? You left so suddenly the last time I saw you. Terrified of death, you were. Why here, why now?"

The Borrower Witch clears her throat.

"I feel like I'm obliged to gift you somehow, my dear. Thirty is clearly a significant milestone." The Witch cackles.

The girl taps her hand at her side. "And as for the other half of the question? You were so scared of dying back then. Did you flee because you thought I could hold you against your will or something like that?"

The Witch sighs. "I don't like talking about that decision. But, it is true that I, rather ungraciously, thought that I could safely escape with my life, and avoid the questions afterwards. You're much too curious for your own good, dearie; I hope you know that sometimes you stick your nose where it doesn't belong."

Arrietty almost chuckles. "It's innate. So, you just didn't want to explain yourself, then? What a petty excuse, Witch. I thought you would do much better than that."

"I'm a witch, dear." The Witch flourishes her cloak. "Enigma would completely disintegrate. An old lady afraid of death. That is petty."

The girl becomes quiet. "And now? Are you still afraid?"

The Witch ponders for a moment. "Not at all. It just takes some reflection on your life to realise the best of it is behind you. After that, you can exist peacefully."

It clicks in Arrietty's mind. "You're almost out of time."

Carefully placing a hand on the desk, The Witch supports herself. "I was out of time centuries ago, if I'm to be completely honest."

"So what made you change your mind?"

The Witch pointedly glances at Arrietty. "Nothing lasts forever."

Arrietty nods in agreement. At least the old lady has a decent memory. The Witch shakes her head to dismiss the serious thought. "Besides, I'm neat. I don't like loose ends." The Witch chortles. "If I'm to say it in a Bean-like, sickly sentimental manner, I'm leaving the earth 'without regrets'—dear, it sounds stupid to say out loud."

The Witch points at the window by her bed. "Do you remember my message from that night?"

"Yes."

"In that case," The Witch produces a sparkling little vial from the basket she still carries around, "Consider my debt paid. Here's your one."

She moves to give it to her, but Arrietty refuses, backing away slightly.

"This is not going to happen again. No more deals. Forget your debt. I'm granting you release."

"I never break my promises, Arrietty."

"Honestly, Witch, I no longer care for you or your magic. Just leave me be."

The Witch places the vial down on her dresser, "Please, dearie. You don't think I've monitored your thoughts every now and then?"

Arrietty opens her mouth to object, but The Witch holds up a hand. "I know you too well – we know each other too well. When I say this, I mean it - this is my present to you. No loose ends. No unfinished stories." The ghost of a smirk slips across her face. "Happy birthday, Arrietty."

Arrietty eyes the vial on the dresser. She doesn't even notice when the Borrower Witch leaves.

She knows exactly what her decision is. But this time, she will progress through it, rightfully and morally.

The next few days pass, Homily and Pod gain awareness that their daughter has finally found love. Of course, they cannot be more overjoyed, even when she tells them she will be moving away. She will still visit, of course, but she warns them not to be surprised at her size. (They're not sure what she means, but agree regardless.)

Arrietty shares her last goodbyes, with her family, with Spiller, with the home and world that raised her and grew her into the person she is. But this world is not the one she truly belongs in, in her heart she know this is the truth.

So that fateful night, Arrietty swallows the contents of the vial. She doesn't even flinch.

.

When Arrietty opens her eyes, she's suddenly back in a familiar and achingly nostalgic place. The tinkle of a bell hooks on the glass door of the café and Arrietty's overwhelmed by the bittersweet smells of ground coffee beans and apple danishes. The place is quiet, enshrouded in a sense of peace and quotidian calm, people speak in hushed voices.

There's a man standing at the counter, having just ordered a black coffee with no cream; to Arrietty's ears, the request rings empty in her ears.

"Excuse me."

The man turns around.

"You forgot something." Arrietty offers. "Sugar cubes?"

Shō gives her a smile. Beautiful lines appear around his eyes and brighten his tired face. His expression, though, when he looks at her, registers with some sort of emotion that is between perceptive recollection and collected misperception.

"I did…thank you."

Her heart catches somewhere between her chest and her neck. His dark eyes retain the same intensity they did fifteen years ago, and they still light the same sort of swelling in her heart. Though this time, the impact is delight in just seeing his face once again, rather than an infatuated joy; his handsome features are lined more darkly, somehow better defined with age, the gauntness manifested from sickness has been replaced with a fuller, more energetic face, regardless of the time passed.

Then his mien softens, and he gives her a little apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Miss, I didn't mean to stare. You look very familiar is all…it just—"

Shō trails off, studying her face in a way that is nearly alarmingly concentrated. "I feel like we know each other, from somewhere, maybe a long while ago. But…I think I've just…"

"—forgotten?"

She finishes his sentence and slowly, he nods. Then Shō chuckles regretfully.

"Sorry, I hate it when that kind of thing happens. My daughter tells me I'm getting old; it must be coming true, hey?"

Arrietty's eyes fill with tears at the mention. "That is…beautiful."

Shō turns his head to the side in a little perplexed kind of amusement.

"Well, she's just learned to talk. Maybe my wife is teaching her the wrong things to say."

"Must be."

It would be ironic for his teacher of a wife to be teaching the wrong things to her child, but Arrietty muses silently to herself and nods in response. Thankfully, the coffee girl at the counter calls a black coffee with sugar cubes and Shō goes to take his cup so Arrietty can turn her head and compose herself before he turns back to her.

"Well, I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Miss…" Shō looks to her expectantly.

The way he looks at her is so warm and considerate. She can only imagine how he looks at his daughter - his daughter is growing up the luckiest girl in the world.

"—Arrietty."

She feels the tears watering in her eyes, but she isn't wracked with remorse or vengefulness, they're tears of happiness.

"Miss Arrietty—" Shō notices that she's begun to cry and suddenly his expression becomes concern, "I'm so sorry…are you alright there?"

Arrietty laughs and she knows she looks like a mess with her puffy eyes and reddened nose and the idiotic noises that are coming out of her mouth sound like something between a laugh and a cry, but she doesn't care at all.

"Yes. I'm alright—I'm more than alright. I'm just so—"

She takes a deep breath.

"—happy."

Sho gives her a saddened smile, "If you're sure…"

"I am."

"Well, alright, Miss Arrietty, I must be going now," Shō says, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. "Please feel better soon—or continue to feel happy, whatever it might be—and I apologize for staring before, it was nice to meet you."

She can only beam through the sparkling tears and nod.

He draws back a couple of steps, "And thank you for reminding me about my coffee before – I always forget my sugar cubes."

.

Maybe it was the contents of the vial orchestrated to adhere to her exact wishes, or it was a thread that had transcended time and space that connected her to this person, but whatever it was, she knows exactly the place she has to go.

It's lucky that Takeo doesn't keep the backyard gate locked. He was always a little forgetful.

If anything, he was right about the roses. The soil is damp, a sure sign of rainfall in recent hours past, drops of water nestle cozily inside pinkish petals. And a skinny figure hunches in the corner of the garden, clipping furiously at some petunias that have become infested with weeds. He mutters to himself, and Arrietty almost laughs out loud, but she holds it in.

"Excuse me, you left your back door open."

Takeo turns around to see the source of the voice. He's aged slightly, his hair has been clipped shorter, out of his face, but that same expression, the half-opened lips, the questioning eyes, make her heart almost cease beating.

He stands up immediately. "Oh, thank you for letting me know."

Arrietty says softly, "Your garden is beautiful. They're the colours of the rainbow."

Takeo studies her almost unabashedly. His lips pursed, his shears dropped to the side of his body, the recognition registers on his mien, subtly but evidently. He blinks once, twice, and the warmth in his eyes floods over his face, a spectrum of shyness and inquisitiveness and nostalgia, as if seeing someone from a dream.

"You're—" Takeo's words dwindle in his mouth, like he's about to swallow them. "—beautiful. I mean, sorry. That's unusual for a stranger to say. But I'm not lying."

"At least I'm not naked." Arrietty blurts out, without realizing it's coming out of her mouth and not just in her mind.

The man hesitates, shocked, then releases a loud, full laugh. "What does that even mean?"

"I'm sorry." Arrietty giggles herself.

The love inside her swells when she sees how Takeo's eyes disappear when he laughs, how the smile lines delineating his face crease in different places, the contours of his neck become particularly prominent with the rising sound. She realizes how much she misses this feeling. It had dwindled with distance, but seeing him again puts her emotions in full force once again.

Takeo's laughter dies down. "Yes, I'm sorry too. I mean, I feel like we've met before, but I suppose we haven't. My name is Takeo." He proffers a hand.

Arrietty complies, meeting his hand with hers. "Arrietty. It's nice to meet you, Takeo."

The name passes over her lips comfortably, as if she's said it a thousand times before. She has thought of it again and again, the person, everything about him has lingered in the back of her mind, fresh and never waning. And when he smiles at her, everything is as it is meant to be.

Maybe because they are meant to be.

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a/n: And about two years later, this monster is finally complete. Damn, it'll feel good to make that edit. This is the longest story I've ever written, and I'm kind of proud of myself. But first things first, I want to thank all of you (yes, you reading right now!) for holding my hand all the way through this story. Thank you for loving my OC's, thank you for thanking me for writing this story, thank you for all your lovely wonderful words that make my day much brighter. It's been a long, long journey; many apologies and many, many words. I don't know what I'll write next, maybe I'll try out a different platform or different fandom. But for now, the most important thing is THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING, READERS. Signing off for the last time. Mwah. - C