When he had invited her to stay with him, Phoenix Wright had had no idea what an impact on his life little Trucy was going to make. Losing both her parents and having no other family, he'd have imagined it hard for her to continue on with a happy, normal life, even at the tender age of eight. Still, she came to call him "Daddy," smiled excitedly at the prospect of giving Wright and Co. Law Offices a magical face lift, and never looked back on her past with regret. In an otherwise painful and lonesome time, Phoenix had his little girl to keep him going.

Of course, the twenty-six-year-old attorney knew nothing about raising little girls.

Trucy was early.

Growing up, Phoenix had mostly kept to himself and dreamed of going off to art school someday. Even when the girls around him began to go through the change - something Larry was particularly observant about - he couldn't say he cared much. It wasn't that he didn't like girls - he did - but checking them out seemed to only result in getting a good sound slap across the face. The Butz proved his theory.

Still, when Maya Fey became his assistant at the law offices a dozen or so years later, Phoenix found he had much to learn. Every month or so, he found that Maya was far less forgiving of his inherent male stupidity ("Yeah, we've had burgers for dinner three times this week. So!") and would rather curl up pitifully on the couch and moan than help him with paperwork (Unlikely though it seemed, she was actually pretty good about making herself useful around the office.) Phoenix had once asked her - foolishly, as Franziska von Karma might correctly say - why she was so cranky.

So, he knew the basics. Girls got their periods and it was pretty gross. They felt sick, tired, cranky, and a whole slew of other unpleasant things all the time. It came every month unless they were pregnant. Then morning sickness took its place. They didn't care if you couldn't relate because you were a guy. In fact, they hated you for it.

Phoenix feared for his life when Maya added that girls could get their first periods as early as eight years old. Pearls was nine, after all, and she already smacked him around pretty regularly. He didn't think it would help his case. Pearls didn't get her first period until she was eleven, though, which was good; Maya had had time to prepare herself and to explain certain things to her younger cousin.

Phoenix did not have the same good fortune with his little nine-year-old girl.

He woke up at five o'clock in the morning one fateful Sunday to hear his little girl screaming at the top of her lungs.

"DADDDDDDDDDDDYYYYYYYYYYYY!"

In record time, Phoenix had flown to the bathroom door, wide awake, knocking on it rapidly.

"Trucy? You okay?" Stupid question. Still, he didn't know what to think after a shriek like that. Rustling was heard behind the door, then the doorknob turned, and his daughter's little face, tear streaked and frightened, popped out.

"Daddy, I'm dying," she wailed. Phoenix scooped her up into his arms for a big bear hug.

"No, Trucy, you're okay...what is it...?" he looked into her teary eyes and willed himself not to cry himself at the sheer sadness of the sight.

"I'm bleeding, Daddy! I'm dying!"

"Bleeding? Oh, it's probably just a cut," he smiled. "I'll get you a band-aid. One of those glow-in-the-dark ones you like." Which had cost him a dollar more than the good ol' plain band-aids. But that was beside the point.

"No, it's not a cut," the little magician whimpered, shaking her head. "It's bloody in the toilet."

Phoenix couldn't breathe. This wasn't happening. He wasn't ready for her to...no, there had to be a mistake. His panicked expression must have frightened her, because she started crying and wailing at top volume; Phoenix bolted into the bathroom and looked in the toilet.

...He really wasn't ready for this, and the sight of blood made him feel like throwing up a little. Just a little.

After a moment, when the former lawyer had composed himself, he turned back to Trucy with a brave smile.

"You're not dying, sweetie. It's...it's called your 'period'. All girls get it." Trucy's piteous sobs quieted.

"Really?"

"Y-Yeah," Phoenix steeled himself, feeling suddenly awkward. "Er...I'll...I'll explain it more when you're older." When he'd had enough time to not pass out while discussing this topic.

Trucy waved her little hand in front of her daddy's face. "Daddy?"

"Uh, yeah, right!" Phoenix jumped. "Um..." Maya had spent plenty of time at his apartment, and she was always leaving her junk around for him to find. She must have left something for this in the closet. "Let me check something..."

In the bathroom closet, Maya had left a little package of tampons, and he checked the back of the box to see how they worked. Oh. Nope. Phoenix wasn't even going there.

"I have to run to the store for a minute. Don't worry, I'll be right back!" he assured a slightly less panicked Trucy, running out the door. He took his bike down the street to the supermarket and flew through the doors. Phoenix looked around and found the aisle he was looking for - "feminine products," the sign hanging from the ceiling read. He turned the corner into the aisle and died a little.

There were shelves upon shelves upon shelves of "feminine products." This one claimed to be the most comfortable. This one was most absorbent (under different circumstances, he would have been thinking "Ew," but right now, he was preoccupied). This one had wings.

...Wings? What did they need wings for?

A worker walked up to him. "Can I help you?" she asked. He snapped his head in her direction, a deer-in-the-headlights expression plastered on his face.

"I- I need - you see, my Tru - my Trucy, she - and - first - I - help...!" Phoenix managed, flailing.

"Single dad, baby girl's first period?" the worker guessed with an amused smile.

"Uh-huh," Phoenix whimpered, nodding pitifully. She laughed and picked out a puffy pink package.

"These are good for first periods. Nothing super fancy, but convenient." Phoenix cried tears of appreciation. "Oh, and...you'll want to have pain killers on hand. And her favorite flavor of ice cream." He nodded rapidly, eyes wide. "You've never dealt with this before, have you?"

"Er, once, I guess," he admitted. "A girl I worked with...er...yeah."

"Were you close?" Nod. "So, what did you do when she had her period?"

"What I was told."

The worker clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Good man. You'll be fine."

Phoenix returned to his apartment five minutes later carrying shopping bags containing the "feminine products" (using any other word made him feel awkward and mildly nauseous), pain killers, and a gallon of strawberry swirl ice cream. Trucy had retreated to the bathroom. He knocked on the door and was allowed in, bearing the pink package. He pulled one of the...feminine products...out of the package and showed it to her. Phoenix pulled the sticky off the back and handed it to her, petrified; thankfully, she seemed to know what to do with it. She asked if he could bring her another pair of panties; these ones were all bloody. Phoenix took a deep breath.

Once he'd retrieved the panties, she asked him to leave, and he obliged with enthusiasm. No sooner had she shut the door, however, she opened it again.

"Daddy! What are these?" she pouted, holding up the panties he'd brought. They were pink and glittery, a cartoon unicorn printed on the front.

Phoenix wondered if this was a trick question.

"Panties?" he guessed after a moment. Trucy's cheeks puffed up indignantly.

"These are little girls' panties, Daddy! I've got my period now." The little nine-year-old puffed out her chest. "That makes me a woman."

Phoenix burst into tears.