He’d be lying through his teeth if he’d said that he wasn’t still heartbroken over his daughter’s disappearance. After being taken hostage by Aura, and with Aura disappearing, so did the hostages. His locket, having never left his side, serving as a constant reminder that Trucy’s fate was, at least to Phoenix, still unknown.
It was at Maya’s insistence that he finally take a breather, that he try and contact some of his friends — rather than remain in his state of frantic ( searching ) and worrying over the state of his missing daughter. Which is precisely how he managed to find himself paying a visit to Labyrinthia.
Remembering how to get back to the storybook town was a challenge in and of itself, considering how long it’d been since he’d last been there. But once he’d gotten there, he knew the first place he’d head to would be Aunt Patty’s bakery — pay a visit to the baker herself, and his friend Espella.
He took the time to look around, with a small smile at the bakery itself, and his memories of it, and it didn’t even register to him that there was a small brunette working there, speaking to him, rather than Espella. ' Afternoon, sir! Can I help you decide on a loaf or two? '
Phoenix was about to respond with an off-handed, ' Whatever you'd recommend ', when he felt his entire body freeze, tensing up. He knew that voice. Slowly, he’d turned his head from the worn walls of the bakery, to the girl addressing him.
While he couldn’t see his face, he was certain that his face looked broken, eyebrows knitted in confusion, and blue eyes wide in surprise and jaw agape. As cliche and ridiculous as it would sound, he’d tried to speak, to address the teen, to ask her everything, but he choked on his words. Trucy was alive. Trucy was safe.
The only thing that he could ask was, ” How ? ”
For months she had been at this bakery, in this town, with no memory of her past, or where she had come from, or why she was even there. It had been a complete and utter mystery, and still was, in a manner of speaking. Try as she might, not one thing from her past would bubble up from the depths of her mind. It was discouraging to say the least.
And yet...
Trucy couldn't shake the feeling that she knew this man from somewhere--something in her mind was grasping at memories lost long ago, trying to fill in the gaps to no avail. It almost felt like it was on the tip of her tongue, but all she could do when he turned, his expression a mix of confusion, surprise, and even a little sorrow, was stare right back at him, clearly at just as much a loss for words.
'How'...? That was...an unexpected response. It was becoming obvious the longer they stood there, staring at one another, that this man definitely knew her. But from where...? That was the question. (Well, one of the questions. Hundreds, thousands more were likely to follow after it.)
Trucy had not answered for several long, long moments after he'd spoken, too busy staring, searching his face for something to latch onto, to remember by. When she finally realized this, she flushed faintly, and tucked her hair behind her ear, an old nervous habit that had never quite gone away. "W-Well, that's--not quite the answer I was expecting." Trucy laughed, the sound a bit more strained than her usual happy giggles. "Uh...I can give you a sample or two...?"
She would have said something about who he was, if he knew her, but the words couldn't seem to come out, so she had slipped back into work mode--be friendly, and courteous, and mindful of the customer.
