Author's Note: Written as an anonymous "Great Pumpkin" gift for Mir, based on her fabulous cracky series of fics depicting a wild, loving, post-manga relationship between Hojo and Mrs. Higurashi. MA but not graphic. Watch out for the surprise ending!

The Luckiest Man in the World

How many times in our lives do we think we've hit the highest of heights, the pinnacle of happiness, the zenith of our existence, only to find it only gets better? I pity those who can't say, like me, that life has blessed them with wonders and joys too numerous to name. I know some can't even say "life is good" and mean it. But as for me and mine? The gods have been good to us, so good that I just can't keep it to myself.

When I saw the ad on the back of a box of Raaki Charamus cereal asking customers to enter their "Luckiest Man in the World" contest by writing an essay to tell why they should win a box of solid gold Raaki Charamus, I knew I had to do it. With my dear wife and three children, including twins, to support and now another on the way in a risky pregnancy that means I must stay home and not work, I could use a little financial help. And, most importantly, I am, without doubt, the Luckiest Man Alive.

Let me tell you my story.

Once upon a time, I was an average high school boy. Not a bad looker, with girls finding me sweet and asking me to take them out all the time. But I loved only one girl, and she did not love me. No matter how I pampered and cared about her—bringing her cures for her ill health and helping her with homework whenever she wished—she favored another and, eventually, ran off with him once she finally graduated. I was distraught, lonely, and frustrated.

My first knowledge that I was truly lucky happened when the girl's mother invited me in to explain when my beloved Kagome fled with her rockstar lover. Mrs. H patiently told me that she had long loved this strange fellow from far away, and that I must accept that she belonged to him. She fed me mochi cakes and tea, patted my hand, and dried my tears. Such a sympathetic soul! I could not believe my good fortune in finding someone to share my sadness with. She knew how I felt about her daughter and empathized with my loneliness and sorrow. She, too, missed her girl, and together we found comfort.

I began to come to see Mrs. H regularly for much needed doses of encouragement. The girls at school were so immature, I was finding, never appreciating my steadfast kindness, my studiousness, and my preference for bicycles to cars and classical music to rock and roll. But not Mrs. H. She would send her son to play with friends and her father off to the garden, and then she and I would listen to radio broadcasts of traditional Japanese music concerts and eat the pastries and other goodies I would bring. I grew aware of how foolish I had been to squander gifts on young girls when a mature woman like Mrs. H could so much more appreciate me! We became fast friends, and I felt honored…and still luckier.

Who knew life had even more and better in store for me! One day, Mrs. H took my hand and asked me if I had ever kissed a woman before. Of course, I had not. And I will say no more on that subject (because I consider myself a gentleman) except that Mrs. H earned my first kiss, my true love, and, after a short time, my hand in marriage.

Three years have passed, and the blessings of luck from the gods have given us our wonderful children, twins and a daughter who is the apple of her daddy's eye. My wife, a woman of strong moods and great love, has given me much responsibility in caring for them and for her. I cherish her leadership as she makes our life wonderful in every way.

If there was one little nagging problem in our life—and I do not mean that as a critique of my wife's tendency to be demanding of me, that is one of her virtues!—it was that we wanted to have more children and learned, much to our dismay, that, after our daughter's difficult birth, it was no longer possible for my wife. We knew we should be grateful. She had already given birth to her first daughter and son, and then three more with me. And yet we wished to have one more son, to name him after me, and to raise our perfect four in perfect happiness.

But my luck proved astonishing even here—more astonishing than any story perhaps yet told in the lives of mortals. Yes. One morning after a sad evening of mourning for our son that would never be born, along with conciliatory lovemaking intended to bring us closer yet help us purge our pain that I will describe only in saying it involved paddles and a rather sturdy whip that my dear wife wields better than any lion-tamer, I felt a kind of illness I had never experienced before. I could not hold down my breakfast and there was an odd dizziness and yet fullness within me. When I fainted, my wife packed up the kids and drove me to the emergency room where doctors were baffled and sent me to gastro-intestinal experts, proctologists, a nerve specialist, and a panel of psychiatrists. Finally, when no answers could be found to my condition, my wife's father, old Jii-chan, wisely advised us to seek the advice of an old healer woman he knew.

Can you imagine my shock and my joy when the healer pronounced me perfectly healthy—and pregnant?

Now, four months later, I happily attach a picture of my growing belly to share the truth of this luck beyond any luck yet known to humankind with you.

In the end, whether or not I win the contest (and even as I continue to have troubling morning sickness and cravings for raw shark flesh covered in chocolate sauce), I know that I am indeed the Luckiest Man in the World.

Sincerely,

Hojo