Kobo Kanaeru Past Life

My husband was an air traffic controller. In our past lives, my daughter had a heart attack when the flight we were in faced a thunderstorm. I contacted my husband at the control tower to arrange for priority landing. At the same time, the other flight that my husband's soul mate was in crashed after being struck by lightning. My husband acted normal after that incident. However, later on my daughter's birthday, he locked my daughter and I in the house, and we were burned to death. "If you hadn't asked for priority landing, Kelly's flight would not have crashed! I don't think there is anything wrong with your daughter. You only did that out of your jealousy for Kelly, you caused the death of a few hundred innocent lives." My daughter and I did not manage to escape, we died horribly. The next time I opened my eyes, I returned to the day when my daughter was having a heart attack again. This time, my husband disconnected my call to the control tower completely. However, when he learnt that our daughter had died from a heart attack, he went crazy.

Khanza Syahila, an eighteen year old girl with a dark past that left her heart injured and traumatized.Kenzo Bratama, a twenty-five year old guy with his mysterious attitude. The new occupant of the boarding house next to Khanza's boarding room, as well as the new English teacher at the Khanza school and the girl's homeroom teacher.Without them knowing, Khanza and Kenzo are the reincarnations of a husband and wife couple in the past two hundred years, who have the ability to drive out evil beings.What kind of story will Khanza and Kenzo have?"In this world, I'm all alone! I don't need anything, I don't need anyone!" -Khanza Syahila-"No matter what, I'll protect her!" -Kenzo Bratama

In my previous life, my husband's female coworker had asked him to drive her to and from work. I wasn't happy about that, but my husband dismissed my concerns, saying, "We live in the same neighborhood, so it's not like I'm going out of my way. Don't be so selfish." Six months later, she became pregnant and tragically miscarried in our car. The doctor was baffled, saying, "How could she have intercourse in the early stages of pregnancy?" Intercourse? I was confused, as her husband was overseas on a business trip. Before I could fully process the situation, both my husband and his female coworker pointed their fingers at me and claimed that I was the driver during the incident. Because of that, when her husband rushed back from abroad, he stabbed me over twenty times in a fit of rage. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day before he first gave her a ride.

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed inside and told the officer on duty that the killings weren't random—that the murderer was coming for me. They looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then my husband arrived in a hurry and took me away. But the moment we reached our front door, a heavy hammer smashed into the back of my head. Through the blinding pain, I forced my eyes open, but I never saw who killed me. Now, staring at the grave expression on the news anchor's face, agony surged through every inch of my body. Rebirth isn't a reset. The damage accumulates—and sooner or later, it will torture me to death. Without hesitation, I walked into the kitchen and set a pot of oil to heat. And I waited… for the moment the lock began to turn.

After we were both reborn, my wife and I decided to part ways and live our own lives. She went to Newport with Klay Bernhard, the son of a wealthy family, while I went to study at a university in the capital. By leveraging her past life's experience, she helped her new boyfriend avoid investment risks and devise a brilliant business strategy. It didn't take long before she got everything she wanted in the past life. Meanwhile, I continued to focus on my studies and was content with living a mundane life. We met again at a class reunion years later. I saw her arm-in-arm with Klay. She was showing off the enormous diamond ring she wore. "It's been ten years, haven't you made anything of yourself?" All I did was smile and remain silent. That was until a wealthy businesswoman showed up late to the scene and threw herself into my arms. "You promised me we would go get our marriage license when I come back, you can't go back on your word!" At that moment, my wife from the past life, who was usually prideful, had a look of sheer disbelief in her eyes. It finally clicked for her that the reason I was willing to separate from her for so many years was not that I was stubborn. It was because we were through.