A Method to his Madness

by Bakura's Guardian Angel

“Help me…” It was the first thing he ever said to me. I knew at once that we were irreconcilably different, but the differences didn't seem to matter. Not then. And so the first thing I said to him was, “Yes.”

6. 6

"What do you think makes someone come back as a spirit?" I asked my father one evening.

He leaned back from his desk and looked at me. His eyes carried disdain, annoyance…but I thought there was a hint of affection there, like a memory of a time he truly cared about me. "Well…If I were to believe in such nonsense, then I'd say it was someone who died with an ongoing purpose, or a—a lost soul of some kind. Someone who has unfinished business." He pursed his lips and leaned back farther.

"Or maybe someone who just has nowhere else to go," I said.

He looked at me blankly. Then he grunted what could have been an affirmation and leaned back down to his work, and I knew that he was done speaking with me.

I nodded to myself, though. I understood. For the first time since he'd come, I was really questioning what my tenant was, who he was, where he'd come from, and why. I knew I wouldn't know for sure until I asked my nameless tenant myself (a task I found I had to work up the nerve to do.)

A lost soul, a spirit without a place to go; it must be so lonely, so miserable. I felt sure that whatever he was searching for was his unfinished business. I wondered what it might be… Whatever it was, I desperately wanted to help him find it.

My heart ached for him. No one deserved to be so lost.

I was more determined to help him than ever.