#cc plot reaction

No! He had patrolled, hadn’t he? Takashi had been all around the campus and the commercial district that day, seen just about everyone, It would be stupid to even think he hadn’t seen anyone suspicious, and that means that this scenario could not have happened. Yet here he was thinking it, at the base of the lake, and against the sight of what floated in the water just so he could keep his hypothesis status ambiguous. 

“No... That’s impossible.” Did anyone here the bell? The telling sign that Moe was definitely dead? Takashi hadn’t. Too many people were staring at the scene for there to not be an alert. Their captor was dilligent and cunning, and surely would have sounded it as soon as appropriate.Moe had to still be alive!

Takashi threw off his coat in one fluid motion, appropriate since it ended up skimming the edge of the pond anyways, then sprung into the lake with good form. His motion made him appear like a creature that belonged there. The ocean did practically raise him, and it showed in every stroke. He grabbed Moe’s head and shook it around. Non-responsive. Could be unconscious, but they needed to be back on land to do anything about it. With one hand on the hoodie and the other pushing against her back, Takashi swam Moe to shore. This was no Hasslehoff rescue. Everyone was in panic, and a life was in danger, at best. Takashi didn’t bother calling for help when he practically tossed Moe’s waterlogged body out of the water and into the grass, himself following shortly after.

“Somebody here specializes in medicine, right? I need some help! Somebody has to help me, damn it! We need to get air into her lungs. Keep count for me!”

Somebody did it. One massively corrupt teenager, or android that was corrupt in an more literal sense, murdered in cold blood. Whoever did it actually believed that technological dream machine! Idiot! Or they did it to get back home. Wanting to be home: Reasonable. Killing for it: unacceptable, for that and any other circumstance. A group of the brightest students from Japan, and even some other countries, were being held captive on the moon! Somebody must have knowledge of this; it might have taken rocket science to get them here, but you didn't need it to reason that, eventually, rescue would come. 

The mystery of how they got here still hadn't been answered, but the corpse of Sunao Nanase demanded everyone's attention at this point. If not for the threat of a penultimate punishment if they all failed to catch the culrpit, Takashi would do his best to find the twisted being that would resort to this. He took one long look at the body laying limp in the chair. First of all, who's chair was this? Second - no doubt this was the elephant in the room - the blood dripping down the side of Sunao's cheeks would need to be looked at... more closely

Takashi was usually calm under pressure (The first couple days were a poor example, but you may find that your mood can also go awry when you wake up and find yourself somewhere other than your planet of origin). Even the aquarium head himself had limits, though. This bloodied head, for example, was something Takashi never wanted to have to see. He lifted up the visor, examined the disgusting scene quickly, but carefully so he didn't have to come back to it again later, moved on. This person was a maniac, and Takashi had one name in mind already.

After checking the chair... hmmm. Takashi was almost satisfied with assumption being correct, but he remained stone-faced in a fitting managerial stance: arms crossed, leg spread to shoulder length, and a diaphragm ready to shout the name of the boy he knew was no doubt still pussyfooting around the lounge. He didn't even turn away from the chair.

"That... robot bastard!" Takashi screamed as he stormed through the door to his room, not even bothering to wait until he slammed his door to begin ranting to the space in front of him. He continued fuming over to the dresser. "When I get out of here, somebody is going to ffffffucking pay!" His rise in volume coincided with a surge in his temper, as he pounded his fist against the dresser. In short, Takashi did not take stress well. His resolve was, for the most part, calm and friendly, with a steep curve up to his anger point, but once you got there, it continued down even steeper. 

Takashi was now standing over his bed with the stance of a crab; one of his 'claws' was even redder and more swollen from it hitting the dresser moments ago. He dragged his pincers through his hair, which, if it wasn't handled with such care in the past, would have been pulled out. 

"The moon. The fucking moon! That's impossible! Every word of it. *COUGH! COUGH!* I'm gonna pass out. Damn it." Takashi's arms fell limply to his sides as he directed his body to plop down onto the mattress in his so-called 'new home'. Again, that was impossible. He rolled over, and just as his face was turning toward the ceiling and the red faded from his eyes, Takashi noticed another person on the other end of the room; a sole audience member to bear witness to his act.