Journals
By A.R. Taloff

cassette tape recording from resurrected lab in L1 colony

". . . Yuy demonstrates skilled abilities in reconnaissance. Unfortunately, his humanity is seen as a disability. Barton wishes me to destroy all traces of it. I've come up with a different idea though . . ."

Later discovered as the voice of Doctor Richard Jameson, or the rebel known as Dr. J.

Excerpt from a Journal found in the Safe Box of the Yuy Mansion after it was destroyed in an arson raid

Data Journal One:

I have now reached the Earth. It seems far different from the world that I imagined or saw from my vantage point on Space Colony L1. I seem to miss the dark side of the moon, though seeing this reminds me of the destruction that I caused in the last town.

The last town. It is always the last town. The last city. The last place that I turned into a graveyard. Every time I kill, I remember what I am capable of doing. Every time that I do it, I relish how I can come back and hide myself away in a closet and type this.

Psychologist readings of Relena Peacecraft/Darlian/Yuy at age four, circa AC185

". . . Relena seems to have . . . moved on from previous . . . actions. Her amnesia is causing . . . problems, the wall is too thick, then seems thin . . . I am trying to delve deeper . . . Her father was a key figure in her life, yet I cannot . . . get past her wall. It seems that she . . . is prone to boughts
of forgetfulness of the event . . . is more interested in going her own way. Mr. and Mrs. Darlian feel that that may be the best . . ."

Excerpt from a Journal found in the Safe Box of the Yuy Mansion after it was destroyed in an arson raid

Data Journal Two:

Today I walked into St. Gabriel and stared at the class that stared back at me with curiosity. They wanted to know who I was; if I was worth knowing.

I don't think they really want to know. I don't even know.

I saw the girl. And she saw me. She invited me to her party. Her birthday party.

I've never been invited to a party before.

I wanted to rip it open and read it, and then read it again. An invitation.

She didn't even know me, the real me. She had met the Assassin who had just destroyed three OZ MS. She met the guy who drove off in an ambulance. I don't think she wanted to pick my brain, but I don't know. She could be like the rest, who were curious and mean.

I ripped it in twain.

The first and most assuredly last invitation to a party I'd ever get fluttered like tired and lonely butterflies to the ground, then danced away on the breeze that picked up. I made her cry, the salty drops pooling in her sea blue eyes, threatening to spill over. I watched her try to gather herself, restrain them from falling. How strong she must be, to hold herself up in front of such
embarrassment and humiliation.

Humiliation caused by me.

I stepped in front of her, wiping a tear away. A softness appeared in her eyes, and instinct pulled out the big guns.

I told her I'd kill her.

And walked away, praying that I wouldn't turn around to see if she still cried, if the invitation was caught errantly in some bush, so that I might pluck it and hide it in my suitcase.

My first invitation.

I'll kill you.
I'll kill me.