Despite what most might think, a mobile suit was a merciful weapon. Yes, that's right, merciful. True, it had much more killing power than anyother weapon man had come up with, but it was merciful for those who were fighting wars. You couldn't see your opponent. That person they told you was your ennemy. The fellow human you had to shoot down.
When you used a regular gun, you saw the face of your victim.
When you planted a bomb, you saw the scrambled bodies of your prey.
But when you shot down another mobile suit, all you saw was scrap metal.
Scrap Metal.
It wasn't hard to look at, it didn't make you feel guilty. It stopped you from realising what you'd done. When you saw the remains of the mobile suit you had just destroyed, you didn't realise that you had just killed someone. Someone who wasn't necessarily the enemy. Someone who could have been your friend. Someone who had hopes and dreams.
You never killed while you were in a mobile suit, when you fought against one. You simply turned a working machine into scrap metal.
And that was what made the mobile suit a merciful weapon.
But sometimes, you can't belive your eyes. Sometimes, your ears take over, and you hear the screams of the ennemy. Of that fellow human you shot down, and the broken machine isn't just scrap metal anymore. It's killing.
I don't want to fight anymore.
I don't want kill anymore.
I don't want to be dubbed a murderer.
I don't want the deaths of fellow humans on my concience.
I don't want it to be my fault.
I don't want to know there's a person in the mobile suit.
I don't want to that I've broken somebody's heart.
I don't want to see scrap metal.
I just want to live in peace.
I wish I could just walk up to the world and say : I'm Kira Yamato, and I hate the sight of scrap metal.
But I can't.