Naruto The Seventh Hokage

On the night of our seventh anniversary, I was pulled into an emergency C-section. Before I could scrub in, my director caught my arm. “Gianna, the woman on that table is under the protection of a man powerful enough to ruin this hospital by morning. Do not make a mistake.” I glanced at the patient chart and frowned. Men in our world including Enzo were all obsessed with their wives. How could a man like that possibly have another woman he cherished? The surgery went well. Clean incision. Clean closure. No complications. I had barely exhaled in relief when a swarm of men in black dragged me to my knees outside the recovery room and forced me to my knees outside a private recovery suite.

In the seventh year of my marriage to Adrian Sandford, his ex, Celine Wheeler, came back. She posted: [We were young, reckless. We missed our shot. This time, I'm fighting for love.] That night, Adrian sat on the balcony, cigarette burning between his fingers, staring out till sunrise. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing either. Their friend group—everyone who saw them grow up—flooded the chat. Regret for them. Relief, too. They forgot I was still in there. Adrian had no clue how many times I replayed the years I chased him. Seven years. I'm tired.

Imagine being murdered by the very woman meant to protect you, your own grandmother, consumed by her lust for power. It sounds unreal, doesn’t it? But that has been my reality. This is my seventh life, seven times I have been reborn, and seven times I have died before the age of eighteen. At only five years old, I hid in a cupboard and watched through a crack as my grandmother, Lunice, gave the order that slaughtered my brothers, the royal princes of Ahenil, after news came that my father, King Ahenos, had been killed in battle. To secure her throne, she commanded the execution of every male in the royal bloodline. My mother’s maid, Martha, risked everything to smuggle me away. She raised me like her own, alongside her daughter Jane, the girl who became my light, and later, the love of my last life. But no matter where I ran or how I lived, fate found me. In each of my six past lives, my grandmother’s shadow hunted me down, ending me at eighteen. Sometimes she killed Jane too. Sometimes even Martha. Each death left me broken, yet each rebirth filled me with memories, scars, and a growing resolve. Now, in this seventh, I am no longer the helpless boy cowering behind a cupboard’s door. I carry the wisdom of six lives, the pain of countless betrayals, and the fire of vengeance that will not be quenched. This time, I will reclaim my throne. This time, I will protect those I love. And when October comes, the cursed month of my death, the world will remember my name. I am the rightful heir, the cursed prince reborn. And this time… I will defy fate itself.

It was the apocalypse. Some humans had undergone the Awakening and gained unimaginable powers. Leon Reagan was not one of them. In fact, he had nearly died, almost devoured by zombies when it began, and missed everything. Why? Because he had risked his life to deliver the food he had saved for himself to the girl of his dreams, someone he had been simping for over three years. She did not care, even when he came within a breath of becoming zombie food. Yet, in a twist of fortune, or perhaps because some higher power took pity on him, Leon somehow returned to the seventh day of the apocalypse. This time, everything would change, starting with his inheritance of the power of the legendary Undead Overlord.

In my seventh year of trying to win the favor of mafia Don Ethan Larsen, the system declared my mission a failure. I was set to be erased in one month. I did not cry or make a scene. I accepted the death countdown with calm detachment and started a livestream called "My Last Wishes Before I Die." The first thing I did was throw the multimillion-dollar wedding ring into the drain, right in front of Ethan and his first love, just to hear it clatter out of sight. Ethan's expression hardened. "Nina, what kind of trick are you trying to pull this time? You begged me in order to wear that ring and stood there for three days." I smiled, lifted my middle finger, and replied, "Pfft… As if you deserve it."

On the seventh year of our anniversary, the anniversary gift my husband, Anthony Walker, has given me is a divorce agreement that is valid for seven days. He has planned all this just because he has his eye on a female intern in his company, who is seven years younger than him. So, he wants to be in a legitimate relationship with her that only lasts for seven days. On the first day, they reserve an entire cinema for themselves. After that, they make love to each other from the doorway to the seats. On the second day, they set off fireworks at the beach. The fireworks are so bright that half of the city is illuminated by them. On the fifth day, the intern, Tanya Lindt, barges into my art exhibition. With tears running down her face, she accuses me of being the side chick in her relationship in front of the mass media. That night, news of a rising female painter becoming a homewrecker for the sake of love goes viral. More than 100 thousand malicious comments directed at me are posted in the comment section. On the sixth day, Anthony apologizes to me on Tanya's behalf. Apparently, the punishment he has set for her is that she's not allowed to go shopping for three days. On the seventh day, Anthony finally realizes that something is wrong. He calls me 99 times just to remind me that we'll get remarried the next day. "Okay," I say to him. Then, I inform my assistant to check in my baggage. What Anthony doesn't know is that I already came up with a plan to further my studies overseas seven days ago. This time, I'm not going to waste my time on him anymore.

On their seventh wedding anniversary, Kimberly Williams discovered a divorce agreement in Richard Munoz's nightstand drawer. It was covered in scribbles and cross-outs, as if he'd agonized over the decision time and again. [If I fall in love with someone else during the marriage, I voluntarily give up all my assets and leave with nothing. Here's the list of properties.] He'd originally vowed to walk away penniless for her sake, but in the asset section, he'd crossed things out one by one. First, he struck through the house he planned to give her, then changed the $50 million to $500,000. Finally, in a ruthless scrawl, he added: [Better if Kimberly leaves with nothing. Can't help it. Lotta is pregnant.]

I cooked up a storm for our seventh wedding anniversary. However, my CEO wife took a couple of bites before leaving in haste for some work emergency. I trailed behind her, only to find her entering an upscale event space where she held a sip-and-see event for the twins she had through surrogacy. Pulling out a centurion card, she handed it to her male secretary and uttered solemnly, “You’ve done well, Dale. Everything I own will go to the children.” Dale, his eyes sparkling, pressed his lips against hers. “Ms. Markham, it’s my honor to have children with you.” With a scoff, I pushed open the door to the hall. I’d like to see how the guy managed to have children with a woman who was born with underdeveloped ovarian follicles.

At our seventh wedding anniversary party, Caleb Thorne shares a drink with his childhood sweetheart. My face darkens, and he publicly snaps at me in front of everyone. "It's just playful fun between friends—why are you so uptight? If I really had something going on with Emma, do you think you'd ever have become my wife?" He storms off in anger. That same night, his childhood sweetheart updates her social media banner to a photo of her holding hands with Caleb. In the past, I would've rushed to her house without a second thought, dragged Caleb out, and demanded to know if he ever truly loved me. But this time, I don't care anymore.

In the seventh year of our marriage, I caught Nolan Garrison kissing his secretary at a bar. He called me shortly after I walked away. "It was just a friendly kiss! What’s with the attitude?" he snapped through the phone. I could hear his friends in the background teasing him and saying that I would be madly jealous while pleading for him not to leave me tonight as usual. Before hanging up, Nolan warned me that he wouldn’t come home if I didn’t apologize. However, I wasn’t bothered by his threat. I didn’t care if he decided to come home or get a divorce. Three minutes later, I posted an update on my social media: “Prioritize self-love and grant others the freedom they seek.”