It was early morning before Mokuba Kaiba was led into the large interrogation room. Chief Nakajo had brought the young boy in when they had first arrested him, but he had proved to be too dangerous and heavily medicated to answer any questions.

They had placed Mokuba in a solitary holding cell, two guards on duty. Every half an hour they would place a call to Chief Nakajo and tell him what was going on in the cell. After four calls and the suspect finally asleep, the guards were told not to call unless Mokuba woke up.

It was almost five in the morning when Chief Nakajo was roused from the couch in his office by the ringing phone. Mokuba Kaiba was awake and very disoriented. Chief Nakajo could hear his shouts on the other end, demanding to be let out. The shouting increased so much that Nakajo could barely hear the guards. He ordered for Mokuba to be brought up to interrogation room one immediately.

When Nakajo walked in, he instantly noticed the stature of the young boy. He was slumped over the table. His black attire was now gone, taken in for evidence, and instead he wore a blue jail outfit. The sleeves were long, hiding his hands as they rested on the table. Behind him stood a row of lawyers, each dressed in suits that probably cost as much as he made a year.

Nakajo took a seat. While his expression showed nothing on the outside, inside he frowned. He didn’t expect they would get anywhere with the amount of lawyers present. He was curious on what they might try and offer, though. They had caught Mokuba red-handed as the elusive Shadow. Nakajo didn’t think there was much they could do, but money always had a way of influencing the justice system.

“Well, let’s get started then.” Nakajo looked up, surprised that it was Mokuba who had spoken first. He looked up to the lawyers, expecting them to look cross that their client spoke, but each remained stone-face.

“Okay.” Nakajo took out a pen, a pad of paper already on the table. He reached over and flicked the switch of a tape recorder. “Friday, November 11, 2005. Chief Nakajo of the Domino Police. Interrogation suspect 05142, Mokuba Kaiba. From here on out our conversation will be recorded. What you say here can and will be used against you. Do you understand this?”

Mokuba nodded, then answered with a quick: “Yes.”

Now the question was where to start. There were so many questions to ask the young suspect that sat before him. Right now he didn’t look very dangerous. However, the attacks among the citizens of Domino had frightened even him, and he had hated every moment that he was away from his family in the evening because of the case.

“So you all think I’m Shadow, huh?”

Once again Nakajo was shocked that it was Mokuba who started off the conversation. The question, though, was strange.

“Why do you ask that?” Nakajo questioned, trying to look into Mokuba’s eyes, though they were shielded by his bangs.

“I’m not. The things in the papers, what everyone here was talking about, I wouldn’t have done that.” Mokuba paused, and Nakajo felt that he was having some sort of inner dialogue by the way he smiled.

“You say you’re innocent, yet you were caught in the act. Your clothes match the description given by the victims, and we identified your blood at some of the crime scenes.”

Nakajo held back his hand and one of the officers in the room handed him a manila folder. He opened it up and dumped out the contents. Pictures fell into a small pile on the table. Once Nakajo straightened the pictures, letting them face Mokuba, he continued.

“These photos were taken of you in custody earlier today. These wounds correspond with what victims told us after their attacks. There’s no using trying to cover it up, Mokuba. We know you are Shadow.”

Small hands reached out, tracing over the edge of one of the pictures. It was a particularly bad one; Nakajo had flinched when he first saw it. Mokuba’s body had sustained much damage. Too much to be on a young boy, he thought.

“You mean this,” Mokuba pointed to the picture, “isn’t some really twisted up flu, or…or a disease from another country?” The voice had a frightful, yet relieved tone to it. Nakajo didn’t know what Mokuba Kaiba was talking about. Disease? His thoughts, however, were cut short.

“Wait a second! You took pictures of me?” Now Mokuba’s voice spat out with surprise and anger. Nakajo couldn’t help but look at him even more curiously. He had left when the photos were being taken after bringing him into custody, having to calm down the media frenzy that had erupted on headquarters’ doorsteps. When he left, though, Mokuba was very much awake and aware of his surroundings. The young boy had been spewing curses and threats to the officers. As much as Nakajo wanted to believe that it was just a clever game that Mokuba was playing, something in the young voice made him think otherwise.

“Are you saying you don’t remember?”

“No, I don’t. The last thing I remember is going to sleep last night, and then I woke up in that filthy cell.”

Nakajo’s eyes widened at that information. Could it really be possible that Mokuba didn’t remember? If that were true, was it just a one time occurrence, or had he not been aware for any of the attacks? No, Nakajo thought, Mokuba had to be trying to trick him.

He was about to speak out and call Mokuba on his lie when the door to the interrogation room swung open. In walked Mika Urashima, though she was more commonly known as Vial throughout the office since she worked with samples in the crime lab. They had given Mokuba’s blood to her for testing. For her to walk into the middle of an interrogation meant she must have found something of great importance.

It took a few minutes after Mika left before Nakajo was ready to speak. She had given him information that he never had expected, yet now that he had it, everything was becoming clearer.

“Are you currently on any medications? Anything for mental health?” Nakajo watched as Mokuba’s head snapped up, finally letting him see into those eyes. Anger filled them. It was not a look Nakajo thought Mokuba could have, but the night was so full of surprises. He’d have to be ready for anything.

“No. Unlike some people, my mind isn’t flawed. Please, share why you would even think to consider someone as great as myself as having one of those issues.”

“Your drug results show that you have a lot of drugs running through your system. The pain medication can easily be explained. I’m sure you took some just to be able to function. The other drugs, however, are not so easily explained. There were very large traces of some type of hallucinogen in your system, small traces of a neuroleptic drug, and others that we’ve not yet identified.”

Nakajo looked at Mokuba. The boy’s eyes were large as saucers. He looked down on the sheet that Mika had printed out for him, giving the results of the test as well as her own notations. The small traces of the neuroleptic drug had more then likely been ingested quite some time ago, perhaps before the Shadow attacks began, but at least by the start of them. Nakajo read further. If ingestion of this type of drug was suddenly stopped, it could lead to psychotic episodes, which could become violent.

The pieces started to fall into place for Nakajo. These drugs, as well as the others that Mika was working to identify, could lead to creating a different personality, or at least some type of alter-ego. The attacks increased in violence. Maybe that was when the neuroleptic drug was suddenly stopped. The question was how this was all done.

“I was drugged?” Nakajo looked up. Mokuba had stood up and was gripping the edge of the table. “Someone put their foul, disgusting drugs into me without me knowing about it?”

“Do you have any idea who might want to drug you, especially for something like this?”

“I’m sure I could give you an endless list of people I know, and then there would be those I don’t know. When you’re rich and famous, things like this happen. Though I can tell you this,” Mokuba leaned across the table, and Nakajo followed his lead, “they obviously don’t worship me properly.”

Obviously the drugs are still in his system and messing with his mind, Nakajo reasoned with himself. He had been hoping for clues to narrow the search, but it seemed everyone was suspect. There had to be some lead, something he was missing.

“I just don’t get how I was drugged. It’s not like someone handed out pills and I took them with a thank you. I’m very particular with what I accept.”

“But what about food, or drinks? Has anyone given you anything, or maybe sent you anything?” Nakajo felt a glimmer of hope swell into his chest.

“Well, let’s see. Countless people have tried to send me homemade goods. That never works. First, I don’t know what’s in it. And how do I know how clean the people were when they baked? All the drinks I have usually come straight from the bottle, or the ba—restaurant.” Mokuba shrugged his shoulders, causing Nakajo to slouch in his chair. He had thought this would lead to their big break, but it only led them back to square one.

“There were those cookies, though.”

“Cookies?”

“Yes,” Mokuba nodded, smiling. “I’ve been getting them for a while now. They’re from this lovely little bakery, though my secret admirer adds on his own little touches. You know, clothing outlines and such in frosting.”

That was it! Though he had no proof to back it up, Nakajo knew in his gut that the cookies were the key to everything.

“Mokuba, those cookies more then likely contained the drugs that were in your system. They added frosted decorations after. Yes! The drugs were in the decorations. It would be easy to conceal it then.”

The excitement slowly began to wear off Nakajo as realization dawned on him.

“Though without the cookies, there is no way to back up that theory.”

Nakajo looked at Mokuba, his eyes filled with apology. The grin he received back was not what he expected.

“I don’t have the whole cookie, but I do have crumbs. On each box was written a little something, so I saved them and have a team of people working to analyze the handwriting and compare it with people in Domino. As much as I like having a secret admirer, I can’t stand being in the dark for long. Now it seems I have even more incentive to find who’s sent me these cookies. I’ll have to thank them.”

Nakajo ignored the implied threat, too wrapped up in the news that Mokuba shared. He signaled to the officer in the room, telling him to take two other officers and head to the Kaiba mansion to collect every box that was there. When he was done issuing his orders he turned back to the young boy in front of him.

“This really has turned into quite an interesting case,” Nakajo mused.

“If the cookies are found to be drugged, what happens to me?”

“Well, you were Shadow and attacked all those people. However, if the same drugs are present in the cookies, you will be free to go and it is the person behind the drugging that will be held responsible.”

Nakajo saw relief flood over Mokuba’s face. He was glad that he had been right in his earlier assessment; Mokuba didn’t look like he could hurt a soul. It was a shame that a young boy like him had to be placed in such dangerous circumstances, all do to his wealth. The world was becoming a scary place, and Nakajo couldn’t help but worry for his young daughter’s future.

“So once the results are back I can leave here? Because I really need to shower all day and put on my own clothes.”

“Unfortunately, no. It will take a few hours for the results to come back. Even if they do prove you innocent, you still have to stay overnight while we detox you and monitor your behavior.”

Mokuba made a move to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth. Nakajo felt sorry for him. He wished he could go around the table and give the boy a nice, long hug. He refrained, though, and instead stood up and walked out of the interrogation room. An officer flagged him down and told him about the commotion that was still outside headquarters. Nakajo waved off the officer. The press could wait. For now he needed to sit down and go over everything in this unexpected case.


------

It was well past midnight when Chief Nakajo made his way back into police headquarters. The dimly lit hallway that led to the medical facilities of the prison smelled of a mix of cleaners. He took shallow breaths as he walked quickly. Once he opened the door to the main medical facility he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresher air.

The Domino Police Medical Staff had had their hands full that day. Before starting the detox on Mokuba Kaiba, there had been more blood tests, along with a slew of scans and monitoring. A therapist, Keiko Tateo, had been by to assess his mental well-being. Nakajo thought everything would come back fine there, but Tateo had surprised him with her findings. It seemed that Mokuba Kaiba was not the boy he had thought in the interrogation room.

Tateo now sat at a large, cedar desk to the right of the door. She looked tired, and Nakajo couldn’t blame her. From the looks of it she hadn’t taken a break for a meal. He coughed to make his presence known, and she signaled him over to her desk with a flick of her wrist.

“Ah, Chief Nakajo. I’ve just finished speaking with him as he is now. After piecing that together with earlier today…well, I’ll just let you read my findings.” She pushed over her notebook. Her scribbles were hard to read, but Nakajo managed. He did not want to wait until she typed it up, as it would be later in the day, fearing that something valuable might be lost that could never be attained again.

“I’d like to see him,” Nakajo said when he was finished. Tateo stood from her desk and walked over to another door. After swiping her badge and entering a five-digit pin, the door clicked and opened.

“Second cell on your right.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t stand too close to the bars. He can’t get out, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try and do something.”

Nakajo nodded and walked to the second cell. A chair was still in the large hallway, most likely left from Tateo. He took a seat, making sure that the chair scrapped loudly on the floor to get the attention of the boy in the cell.

“Another doctor?” Came a soft, yet playful voice from inside. Nakajo peered into the cell, trying to find where the voice was coming from. He saw a movement in the far corner of the bed, the only place the light from the hallway did not reach.

“No. This is Chief Nakajo of the Domino Police. We spoke earlier today.”

Mokuba’s face appeared out of the shadows, but it was nothing like Nakajo remembered. This face was pale, like a ghost popping out of the closet, and Nakajo felt like a child when his back stiffened. Sweat dripped down his face. The black hair that had been neatly combed in the interrogation room, compliments of one of the lawyers, Nakajo was sure, now wildly framed his face.

“I don’t remember you.”

“No, no, I suppose you wouldn’t.” Nakajo recalled Tateo’s report. “You’re Shadow, correct?”

“You’re the police, shouldn’t you know? But I’m being terribly rude.” Mokuba, no, Shadow, stood from the bed and walked over to him. His arm extended through the bar. Nakajo could see the bruises and needle marks. “Shadow would very much like to make your acquaintance.”

Nakajo ignored the hand and continued.

“Fascinating,” he breathed out. If this was an act, it was the best Nakajo had ever seen. However, according to the medical staff, this was no act at all. “You’re really not him at all.”

“You must be talking about Mokuba. Yes, I’ve heard all about him. I only wish I had found out that I was him a little sooner.”

Most of the case was already explained from the tests. There was one thing, though, that plagued Nakajo and the rest of the police force. They had questioned Mokuba Kaiba many times on the subject but had gotten no answers.

“The mark you leave on people…why do you do it? Why there? Why that?” Nakajo leaned forward.

“Curiosity killed the cat-”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” Nakajo finished for him. Shadow sent a chilling smile in his direction.

“Very good. I suppose I can share my secret with you after all.” Shadow’s hands traveled to his waist where they gripped the blue jail shirt and pulled it up. He pointed to an area on his waist. Nakajo leaned forward, seeing nothing until Shadow moved and the light hit it just right. Amongst the fresh wounds was an old scar.

“I had to leave my signature somehow, and a card with my name on it just seemed too old fashioned. I felt it when I was dressing and up sparked a long-lost treat that I had been fed long ago.” Shadow paused though continued staring at him. Was he being so polite as to let this all sink in? Nakajo wondered. The silence didn’t last long.

“Now I have a question for you, Chief Nakajo. Were you the one who ruined my fun?”

“I helped, yes. But soon you won’t have to worry about any of that, and neither will the citizens of Domino. We can rest easy now. You’ll be gone by morning.” The confidence and pride Nakajo felt couldn’t be kept out of his voice. It seemed to be having an effect on Shadow as well, his face falling from concerned to downright worried.

“What are you talking about? Gone? I’ll be back as soon as he falls back asleep.”

Nakajo chucked. “Not this time, Shadow. Throughout the day we’ve been getting the drugs from the cookies Mokuba ingested out of his system. No drugs, no Shadow.”

Shadow pushed back from the cell door and paced around the room. His hands swung wildly in the air. Nakajo thought he was having a silent conversation with himself, but he couldn’t be so sure. It was unfortunate that he wouldn’t have more time with Shadow.

“Explain yourself.” The pacing had stopped.

“You’re nothing but some deep part of Mokuba that has come to life because of the drugs. A split personality, if you will.” Nakajo paused, doing his best to recite as best he could from Tateo’s notes. “He had no idea about you, and from what I understand, like you said, you didn’t know about him until the very end. Now since those drugs are gone, there’s nothing to keep you present like this anymore. By morning you’ll go back to being that deep, sleeping part of him, and you’ll stay that way.”

“No. No. No! NO!” Nakajo shot out from his chair as Shadow’s body slammed against the cell door, the bars rattling with the impact. “I refuse! I’m not done yet. Oh, no, I’m not done. Hey, hey! Come back here!”

Nakajo had heard enough. Without giving Shadow another look he turned and walked the short distance to the door.

“Come play with me, Chief Nakajo!” That was the last thing he ever heard from Shadow as he shut the door behind him. Tateo looked up from her computer, gave him a half smile, then returned to typing.

The disinfectant smell of the hallway didn’t bother him that much now. Nakajo didn’t want to believe a word that Shadow had said, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. Could he come back? His medical staff said no, and he found their word more truth-ringing then anything that could come out of Shadow’s mouth. He rubbed his temples, though the dull ache in his head didn’t disappear. It had been a long day and night, and he needed rest. Later in the afternoon Mokuba Kaiba would be released and he could turn his attention to who was behind drugging the young boy.

When Nakajo closed the door to police headquarters, he wanted to leave everything about the case behind him. However, a little nagging thought was able to slip through the door cracks and tickle across his mind.

Perhaps there was a Shadow in all of us.