Haku Death Naruto

In the third year after my death, my mother finally remembered me. But it wasn't out of longing—it was because my younger sister's leukemia had relapsed, and she urgently needed a bone marrow transplant. Clutching a donation agreement, my mother made her way to the basement I once lived in. She kicked open the door and was met with a floor slick with blood and scattered medicine bottles. "Cassidy, what game are you playing this time? Do you really think a self-inflicted act of suffering could fool me? Why are you so selfish? Why won't you save your own sister?" Her voice roared with anger, echoing through the space. From the crowd that had gathered to watch, a ragged little boy stepped forward. "Are you talking about Cassidy Porter? She… she died three years ago of organ failure… she vomited so much blood…"

My fiancé was the CEO of a powerful financial conglomerate, and to the outside world, he adored me beyond measure. A week before our wedding, I found out I was pregnant with triplets. I had planned to tell him the joyful news in person. But instead, I witnessed him in bed with other women. Not with just one. It felt like a knife had carved into my soul, cutting so deep I lost all hope, all trust. My tears begged for release, but I held my head high, forcing myself to stay strong. For him, I had given up everything—my pride, my family, my career. Yet he chose to share our love with others. All those vows to love me and only me for a lifetime had been lies. Our so-called future, our wedding—it was all a cruel joke. He was no longer the man I once loved. He had become tainted. I would not endure his betrayal. He no longer deserved to be the father of my children. So I made my decision—to disappear, to fake my death and start over, to give myself and my babies a chance at a free, unburdened life. But I never imagined he'd become obsessed and start searching the world for women who resembled me, all while declaring I was the only one he ever loved. Too little, too late. His affection now is worth nothing. This time, I'm not looking back.

On the day of our wedding, my fiance Thomas Warsh was killed in a car accident on the way there. His adopted sister rushed toward me, clutching his ashes, accusing me of being a jinx who brought him misfortune. I was drowning in grief when a line of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [You must remain a widow for three years for your deceased husband. After three years, he will be reincarnated and return to love you again!] [Don’t ever remarry. Otherwise, the male lead will never rest in peace, and you will suffer for the rest of your life!] That was when I learned that my fiancé and I were the hero and heroine of a novel. Only by following the spoilers in the comments and completing the storyline could I reunite with him. I did not remarry. Guided by the comments, I remained a widow for three years, and then another three. However, it was not until I suddenly died from a severe illness that I discovered the truth–the comments had all been written by Thomas. He had faked his death, changed his appearance, married his adopted sister, and fed me endless empty promises so I would continue to slave away for the Warsh family. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day before the wedding.

Ten years ago, Elena, my best friend and my foster brother Alexander's fiancée, was tortured to death, every bone in her body crushed. I was the only witness, yet I chose to cover for the sadistic murderer. From that day on, I became the Family's greatest traitor. I accepted a ten-year prison sentence and bit off half my tongue just to keep that secret buried. Now, Alexander has returned as the most ruthless Don in Sicily. He dragged me out of my cell and strapped me into the memory extraction chair—a machine known to turn traitors into vegetables. As high-voltage currents tore through my brain, Alexander stared at me with eyes full of hatred and roared, "I will cut open your brain to find the bastard you’re protecting, and then I’ll send you both to hell!" But when the true killer's face finally appeared on the big screen, Alexander went mad.

Just because I ate one chicken leg more than my brother, my father kicked me out of the house in the middle of a snowstorm. Later on, my father of an archeologist dug up my body. Due to my missing head, he did not recognize me. Even when he saw that the body had the same scars as I did, he did not care. Later on, my mother dug out my heart and showed it to her students. "Today, we will study the heart of someone with congenital heart disease." She once said she would recognize me no matter what I looked like. Mom, now that the only thing left of me is my heart, do you still recognize me?

At Sullivan Group's annual banquet, a female university student approaches Peter Sullivan and offers herself to him. The usually cold and distant Peter suddenly freezes because this young woman looks exactly like his deceased first love. He can't help but tease, "You're asking to be my mistress in front of my wife. Are you so sure you won't be thrown out?" The young lady lifts her chin, and her stubborn expression is identical to that of his lost love. "You two got married for business reasons and mutual benefits. Does she have any say over what you do? Peter, only you can save my mom. Will you do it or not?" She's right. I'm just a pawn in a marriage of convenience. How could I possibly influence Peter's choices? But then, I catch a glint of tenderness in his eyes that I've never seen before, and a self-deprecating smile forms on my lips. Maybe, instead of clinging on and being thrown out like trash, it's better if I give up my place willingly.

Dalawang taon na ang nakakaraan, pinilit ako ng nanay ko na makipaghiwalay sa boyfriend ko para palitan ang kapatid niya at pakasalan ang kanyang bulag na fiance. Dalawang taon ang nakalipas, bumalik ang paningin ng asawa kong bulag. Pagkatapos, hiniling ng nanay ko na ibalik ko siya sa kapatid ko. Tiningnan ako ng masama ng tatay ko. “Huwag mong kalimutan na fiance ni Rosie si Ethan! Sa tingin mo ba karapatdapat kang maging asawa niya?” Mamamatay na din naman ako. Kay Rosalie na ang posisyon ng pagiging Mrs. Sadler kung gusto niya! Hihintayin ko na karamahin sila kapag patay na ako!

It was our seventh year of marriage when my husband, Joseph Lowe, brought my best friend, Teresa Shaw, to my ward. And they were the picture of a perfect couple. I gave them my most genuine blessing. "You two make the perfect match." Joseph tossed an agreement in my face. An asset transfer. He demanded that I give Teresa everything I had. I took the papers and signed my name without wasting a moment to think. Teresa laughed happily, pleased with my obedience. She then hugged Joseph and said, "Thanks for taking care of Joseph for me, Selina. Oh, there's the divorce papers, too. How about…" I noticed the look of impatience in Joseph's eyes, so I snatched the papers from Teresa's hand. "Yeah, I'll sign them all."

I'm diagnosed with a rare, incurable disease. A wonder drug that is being auctioned off is my last chance at survival. However, upon winning the bid for the said drug, my parents hand it to my older cousin, Annie Harper, who is suffering from infertility instead. This time, I will not make a fuss. I will even purchase a variety of supplements for Annie. My fiance tells me that Annie deserves to be married off splendidly. He wants to give his wedding gifts, which were originally meant for me, to her instead. I consent willingly. On top of that, I transfer both the house and the car he purchased for me to Annie. My parents have relief and delight written on their faces. "You've finally grown up and understood that Annie needs this medication more than you do because she's getting married." My dad says, "Once I've attended the medical symposium for rare diseases and completed the dissection of a patient's cadaver, I will be able to develop a cure for you." Nonetheless, seven days later, I have become the cadaver meant to be cut open by my father. My primary physician calls my father out in public at the symposium, pointing him out as an unethical doctor who gave my life-saving medication to Annie. My parents and boyfriend are criticized by the audience for being murderers. Yet, they firmly believe that this is how I'm getting back at them. They intend to reveal my memories to the public so that everyone learns that I deserved to die.

The day Eve Jones came back to town, Zac Gibson did not come home all night. The next day, I saw a post on her social media, showing a photo of two hands tightly intertwined, along with Zac’s peaceful, childlike sleeping face. When he finally came home, he threw divorce papers at me and said, "You’ve been standing in Eve’s place this whole time. Now that she’s back, it’s time for you to move on." It did not matter anymore. I was not going to live much longer anyway. Whoever wanted the title of "Mrs. Gibson" could have it. Later, I died. But Zac cried at my grave, kneeling, promising he would never hold anyone else’s hand again.