Petals and Peril: Daisy’s Last Spring

Every spring, Peach’s Castle hosted the Blossom Bash—a pastel-drenched event where every Mushroom Kingdom resident pretended not to loathe each other. Pink Yoshi did a DJ set, Bowser brought weird meat on sticks, and Princess Daisy? She tried not to commit homicide with a mimosa in hand.

Daisy hated cherry blossoms.

Not because they were pink. Not because they made Toadette cry about her dead hamster every year. Not even because every influencer from Rosalina to Waluigi posted #Blessed selfies under the trees like it was a cult recruitment drive. No—Daisy hated them because they were a lie.

Cherry blossoms looked beautiful. Ethereal. Delicate. But they lasted, what, a week? Maybe two? Then they fell apart like Koopa Troopa’s Wi-Fi. Just like her last three relationships.

That year’s Blossom Bash was worse than usual. Mario brought Peach an origami swan folded from a restraining order Bowser filed as a prank. Peach swooned. Luigi spilled orange soda on her dress. Toadsworth threw his back out trying to floss. The petals fell, dramatic as hell, and Daisy stood in the corner, sipping her drink like it owed her child support.

Then something… snapped.

It could’ve been the petals tickling her nose like judgment. Or the fact that no one acknowledged her stunning sunbeam yellow romper. Or maybe it was that Wario brought a bouquet of wilted dandelions and Peach called it “edgy.”

Daisy tossed her mimosa. “I’ve had it with the blossoms. I’ve had it with the brunch. And I’ve had it with being background flower filler in someone else’s side quest!”

Everyone froze. Even Bowser dropped his meat stick.

She climbed onto the podium (which was meant for an interpretive dance by Shy Guy) and stared out over the sea of mushroom heads and traumatized Yoshis. “You wanna know the truth about cherry blossoms?” she yelled. “They represent impermanence. You think that’s cute? It’s a metaphor for death, sweetie!”

Silence.

“And you know what else dies? Hope. Friendships. The third season of any Mario Party friendship!”

Suddenly, petals started swirling faster. The sky dimmed. A cold wind blew through. Lakitu stopped live-streaming.

“Daisy,” Peach said sweetly, “maybe you need a nap.”

“Oh, I’ll nap when I’m dead,” Daisy hissed, her eyes wide. “And guess what, Princess Sunshine? So will you.”

From her fanny pack, Daisy pulled out a Piranha Plant seed.

“Oh god, she brought the organic weapons,” Yoshi whispered.

She planted it in the center of the courtyard, right beneath the sacred Blossom Tree. “Let’s see how y’all like your aesthetic when this thing blooms,” she grinned.

The ground rumbled.

The Piranha Plant burst from the soil like it had been listening to Linkin Park underground. It snapped at party-goers, scarfed down a Blooper, and began flinging cherry blossom petals like deadly confetti.

Chaos erupted. Waluigi cried, “Not the skin—this is vintage!” before getting body-slammed by a rogue Goomba. Mario tried to stomp the Plant, only to get yeeted into the punch bowl. Peach screamed and threw her tiara, which ricocheted off Toadette and knocked over the charcuterie tower.

Through it all, Daisy stood perfectly still, arms crossed, as the cherry blossoms fluttered like funeral invitations around her. Engorged, she gives a slight sigh of satisfaction.

“This… is better,” she murmured.

Later, the Piranha Plant calmed down after being fed three croissants and a podcast about boundary-setting. It became the new mascot of Blossom Bash. People said it brought “edge” to the event.

As for Daisy?

She became a legend.

Not the hero they wanted. Not the villain they expected.

Just a girl… who finally snapped under a cherry tree.

And honestly?

Relatable.