I, Satoru Fujinuma, have become a well-known manga artist. But unlike other manga artists, I did something that only would ever happen in a manga: travel back in time.

But I lost that ability.

I sat in my office, scribbling at the paper in front of me. The room was dull like any office room, mood as boring as could be. The only contradictory was my excitement for releasing the new chapter of my manga, and maybe the light coming through the window. I looked around for a second, relaxing my neck which had been set in place for the last hour or two. All of the sudden, the wind blew through the open window, and with it came a blue butterfly.

I've relived this life enough times. Not again! I told myself, worried that this butterfly, which had flown away from me a few years ago, had come to infect me with my former "Revival" ability again. The butterfly flew over and sat on my shoulder. I couldn't do anything about it; other people might get worried if I were to all of the sudden start hitting my right shoulder.

I left work that day feeling a bit anxious. The butterfly still sat on my shoulder, it's bright colors screaming to me that my life was about to get more interesting than I asked for. In front of me, a long street full of people, cars, buildings, and alleyways filled my vision. I had decided to walk that day, because Kã-san had called me earlier, telling me to not get fat on her curry. It's not like I had a wife to get home to, anyway.
About halfway home, I started feeling a bit strange. Like someone was watching me. I've had enough experiences in my 51 years of life. I grumbled under my breath.
"Fujinuma-san," said a familiar voice, out of the shadows of one of the dark alleyways. I stopped dead in my tracks. My heart started pumping rapidly. I thought he was imprisoned, dammit!
"Fujinuma-san, would you mind taking a quick detour from your daily routine?" I shuddered. I couldn't do anything about it. For all I know, he had a machine gun in his hands. I stepped, casually as possible, towards his voice. Once I heard the command to stop, he breathed down my neck to tell me exactly where he was.
"I did a bit of thinking in jail," he said, his voice slithering out of his throat like a snake, "I don't care if I can't live without you, I still want revenge."
This was a whole new attitude: Before, he had said that he couldn't live without me; he hadn't killed me for that reason. But it seemed his time in prison changed his mind.
He wasted no more time. I heard the scraping of metal against leather. He was unsheathing his knife. "Fujinuma-san, I thought you should know what you were going to be killed with... before I kill you," he said smoothly. He held the blade out in front of me. It's the knife he used to kill Kã-san in the alternate 2006!
Suddenly, his path of motion changed. He abruptly pointed the knife towards me, and pulled it towards my heart. The sound of flesh and cloth ripping erupted in my ears. I felt my shirt wet with blood as it poored from my severed heart.

All of the sudden, I was eleven again, lying in bed in 1988.