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Trucy wasn't exactly sure when things started to feel this way. Ever since she was little Trucy felt the need to put on a performer's smile to make sure that she never had to worry anyone dear to her.
A small part of her wanted others to realize how bad things have gotten, but at the same time, she despised people worrying about her. It felt like a bat being swung against her head. Why worry about me when there's so many other important things to worry about?
She wasn’t too sure when things started to feel this badly. To the point where physical pain was better than mental. To the point where the sight of blood began to become more pleasing than the sight of herself.
The only thing that kept her from doing it for over a week is the fear of her daddy finding out. She’s already burdened him enough. If he knew, her whole world would come crashing down.
After all, it's all her fault that he’s in this state now.
Isn't it?
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It’s late at night and Trucy is watching some meaningless show on TV in the WAA, as she had just come back from a long show. She feels the couch sink next to her as she turns to find her daddy sitting next to her.
“How’d the show go Truce?”
“I messed up one of my lines, but other than that I feel like it went pretty well”
“That’s great!”
“Yup!”
“...”
They both sit in silence for a while, mindlessly watching whatever’s on TV. When suddenly, Trucy can feel her dad’s eyes on her leg.
“Hey Truce…what’re those scratches on your leg?”
Shit
Shit shit shit shit shit shit
“Ah…ahaha! Oh daddy!” She says, voice wavering slightly. “What are you talking about? You're definitely getting old! I think you need your eyes checked.”
It’s hopeless, she thinks. No magic trick can make the worried look on her dad's face go away, and denying it only makes it worse.
“Trucy…” he says, his voice heavy with concern.
One look says it all, and Trucy knows there's no way he believes her. She can feel her throat closing up, her sight becoming blurry with tears.
The one thing she didn't want daddy to worry about.
Before she could get any words out of her mouth, she found herself choking on sobs and tears rolling down her face, unable to speak.
The one thing she tried so hard to hide.
She feels her daddy wrap her in a hug as she sobs for what feels like hours, beating herself up for letting him find out, for letting him worry about the person that ruined his life, for letting him adopt her in the first place–
After a while, her tears subside, leaving her with just occasional hiccups as her dad rubs her back in an attempt to calm her down. Her daddy pulls back from the hug to look at Trucy, but she can only bear to look down at the couch beneath her cut legs. If she's being honest, she's happy he didn't see the worse ones further up her leg, but he doesn't need to know that.
Phoenix is the first of the two of them to speak up, “...If its because of me, please tell me. I won’t be upse-”
“No!” She shouts, but then quickly lowers her volume. “...no, I-I swear its not because of you, I just…I don't…” She trails off, struggling to find the words for anything right now.
Phoenix shifts around, giving her room to talk.
Trucy eventually speaks up just above a whisper, her voice slightly raspy from crying so much, “...I feel like…like your life would've been so much better if I was never there in the first place.” She says, her voice getting quieter the longer she spoke, hating herself for each word that came out of her mouth.
She risks a glance at her dad’s face, only to hate herself even more. He looks like he's about to cry, trying to grasp what she just said.
“I’m s-sorry I-”
“You don’t have to apologize for anything, Truce.” He says, voice coming out firm but still a little scratchy from holding back tears.
Trucy can’t physically understand how he could ever forgive her. She was the sole reason he was in this state, the reason why his beloved career came crashing down, the reason why he can never wear that nice blue suit again with the badge he loved to flaunt. It was all her fault.
Trucy straightens her back to try to get her point across. “B-But you…I’m the reason you're not an attorney anymore…*hic*...b-because I gave you t-that paper…”
Phoenix had considered that she felt guilty about this, but he thought that she would know she had no way of knowing it would put him out of a job. How foolish was he to think that a child could come to that conclusion all by herself.
“Trucy, you were eight, and who made that paper?” He asks, giving her time to answer.
“...I d-don't know-”
“Not you. You had no bad intentions, it was the man who gave you the paper, and whoever made it. I mean, who gives a little kid forged evidence? Someone who was out for *me*. You had no way of knowing anything about that.” He pauses for a minute to grab Trucy’s hands, which causes her to look him in the eyes.
“It wasn't your fault. It never was.”
Trucy begins to tear up again, having difficulty accepting the truth. The silent tears turning into loud sobs as she falls onto his chest while her daddy holds her and tries to calm her down.
Phoenix knows how hard it is for the girl to open up to him. The rare moments where her mask slips are ones he tries to hold onto, so he's just happy that she can cry in his arms.
He realizes that the magician has gotten surprisingly quiet, only to realize that she's fallen asleep. She must've tired herself out, and he can't really blame her. Phoenix pulls her in closer, wrapping her in a hug. At any rate, he’ll probably fall asleep next. He lets her sleep here as he would never think of disturbing her.
“Goodnight Truce, sleep well.”