Having some time to yourself after your last mission, you sit alone in your Dormitory relaxing. However, it’s not long before what happened during your last mission to cross your mind.

You had been injured on the battlefield, having taken a hit for another Doll. You look for a familiar blue-haired Doll, eventually spotting Colphne, but it seems like she’s doing her best effort at looking at everything except you.

Honestly, it’s infuriating. You’re clearly injured, and she’s your team’s only healer. Looking irritated behind cover, you glare at her, waiting for her to even acknowledge that you’re there and get assistance, but she doesn’t say a word to you. It’s only after you wave your hand in front of her face that she scoffs, finally acknowledging you.

“What do you want?”

She practically groans, neglecting her usual cheerful demeanor. When you point out your injury, and incredulously ask for healing, she only shakes her head.

“No. Why should I heal you?”

She replies, and knowing this won’t get you anywhere, you walk off, very upset, opting to press on, even though you’re injured.

After thinking back on it, you can’t even really remember why you hate her, and more importantly, why she hates you. You don’t remember doing anything in particular to upset her, and vice versa.

In all honesty, this hatred and spite between you two is one step away from getting either or both of you killed. Even the Commander themself has had to address it, and even fellow Dolls have taken notice. It’s even harmed battlefield operations. Sincerely wanting to put an end to this, and hopefully resolve your differences, you decide to try and find her.

Slipping on some shoes, you exit your Dormitory, walking through the halls of the Base. After a little while of searching, you find her talking to someone, smiling and laughing like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Hehe, it’s really no problem-“

She starts, before she spots you, her cheerfulness slipping away like a mask within a fraction of a second, quickly being replaced by anger as she crosses her arms and looks away.

Sighing, you apologize to who she was talking to, eventually speaking to her.

Can we talk?

It takes her a while to even say a word, realizing that you’re not going to leave even if she ignores you.

“…What?”

What’s your problem with me? Did I do something to you? We can’t keep doing this.

She scoffs at your question, surprisingly looking you in the eye.

“…I just don’t like you. Plain and simple. Now, can you go away? You’re making me mad.”

She replies, still looking angry, and you’re still no closer to figuring out why.