Luigi Mario would be the first to admit to not knowing or particularly caring anything about flowers. When he was a child there were so many other things to do and explore, and as a young adult his life had been preoccupied with distraction from his and Mario's living situation, thinking of ways to help his big bro, playing the latest video games, and continued wonderment at the unexplainable. Flowers, he'd thought then, were just kinda there—boring, earthly, familiar no matter where you saw 'em or how much they cost in the shops. Nothin' special.

Granted, he knew a little about them, but only the essentials, stuff like the kinda flowers Mario bought Daniella, or Daniella bought Mario, or what he picked up naturally growing up. Mostly he knew Baby's First Flowers: Roses, petunias, lilies, that one he only remembered cause of the really long name—chrysanthemum, that was it!—sunflowers, daffodils, snapdragons. Luigi had to admit snapdragons were pretty cool, though he remembered being disappointed they couldn't breathe fire. (Did venus fly traps count as a flower? He couldn't remember, but he hoped so.)

Oh, and daisies, of course. Back then they were just another flower. But that was before the other dimension, and before he met Daisy. Daisy the paleontologist, Daisy the princess, Daisy the girl-who-would-seriously-want-to-date-someone-like-him.

He'd known little else about her namesake other than 'it's a flower and it smells nice', and it bothered him looking back on it now—especially since he still didn't really know much about flowers. Even if flowers weren't important to Daisy herself, they were important enough for her parents to name her after one, and that made him curious as to why.

Well, Luigi knew what to do. If he didn't know something, he'd go find it out, and now that he had a reason to look into flowers there was nothing stopping him from doing so aside from the rush of sudden publicity and fame. The mob of people asking for autographs, interviews, pieces of his time and existence, made him realize all too well the possible downsides to saving the world.

But when the throng of questions ebbed, as all things did, Luigi made a beeline for the nearest flower shop with a list ready, figuring it wouldn't be quite as awkward if he came prepared. The florist recognized him on sight. With a blush and a swish of her blonde ponytail, she introduced herself as Bella, and Luigi blushed himself when she asked if he was looking for flowers for a date.

"N-not exactly," he managed, face turning about as red as a potted flower the label called a zinnia. Taking out his list of stuff to ask—aptly titled 'List of Stuff to Ask'—Luigi faltered a bit, unsure how to begin. Clenching his fists a little tighter, Luigi thought of Mario. He knew his big brother would have a tool-related metaphor for just the situation, but if he parsed it out into something understandable, he'd probably say something like 'C'mon, Luigi. Askin's the easy part,' or 'If ya don't try you'll only be letting yourself down.' Mario was good with sayings like that, and the thought emboldened him.

"Excuse me, uh, ma'am—that is—could you maybe….show me some o' these flowers and, like, what they mean and stuff?"

Bella seemed briefly puzzled before smiling and nodding, and relief flooded Luigi's body. "What would you like to know about first," she asked.

Luigi shrugged, deciding to start simple. "How about roses? I know what they are and what they look like, and their name, obviously, but is there anythin' special they might mean to people? I mean, there must be somethin' to them if people buy them so much."

Bella smiled. "It's probably pretty obvious, but roses symbolize love and romance." Luigi nodded; he'd figured that much, at least. "They can also mean secrecy or confidentiality, and different colors of roses can mean different things. Red is most often romance, while pink is gratitude. Yellow means friendship, and orange roses—yes, there are orange roses—symbolize passion."

"How 'bout blue or green roses? You got any o' those," he asked with a chuckle. Luigi felt more relaxed now, which was a relief.

"Sad to say we don't. Though if we did, you'd definitely be the first to know, Luigi!"

Bella taught him about several more flowers—dahlias represented elegance and commitment, sunflowers longevity and loyalty, lilies humility, devotion, and death. Luigi was surprised to learn that petunias represented anger, while snapdragons symbolized deception and graciousness. Clearly flowers were more complicated than he thought. (Luigi idly wondered if there was some other alternate world where everyone evolved from plants, but thinking about it too long made his head hurt.)

"Are you interested in buying anything?" Bella finally asked, snapping him out of his daze.

Luigi gulped. "S-sure. But before I do… Can you tell me what daisies mean? There's a girl I know who's named Daisy, and I just wondered if her name meant anything special cause it's flower-related and all."

Bella's smile was warm, and she grinned at his flushed cheeks. "Daisies can mean a lot of things—innocence, purity, and faith, as well as cheer. Red daisies, though, symbolize an unknown beauty."

"What, like…no one knows how special she is?" That sounded sad. He hoped Daisy was doing okay.

"No, it's more that the person you give them to doesn't know how beautiful they are. In a way, it's like they're saying 'Hey, friend! You're beautiful!'"

At that Luigi broke into a grin. "I think I'll get both kinds of daisies—do you have both?" When Bella nodded, he paid for the flowers and went home with a light heart.

Now he knew about flowers, but more than that, he knew—or felt he knew, at least—a little bit more about Daisy. The next time they met, he'd be sure to tell her what he'd learned.

And when they did meet properly, after the remnants of Koopa's dictatorship were stopped, Luigi presented the flowers that were her namesake, fresh from the vases and still dripping with water. Daisy accepted the flowers gratefully, and listened with interest as he told her what daisies meant.

"Wow," she said finally. "I don't know if you know this, Luigi, but when I was born, it…Well, it wasn't like how humans are born. According to Mother Rita at the convent, when they found me I hatched from an egg! And according to Dad, my mother—the queen—had picked out the name Daisy for a girl even before I was hatched. Daisies were my mother's favorite flowers."

"Good thing the nuns picked the name Daisy too," Luigi joked. "Hey, you think your name was written on the egg? Or is it one o' them spooky coincidences that turns out to be fate or somethin'? …Any idea what they would've named you if you hadn't been a girl?"

Daisy laughed, and he noticed how it made her eyes sparkle. "I'm not really sure, but…Either way, I'm grateful. For my parents, for the nuns, for my name, and for you, Luigi. And your brother Mario, of course!"

"Of course," he laughed. "And Daniella, can't forget her. I, uh—I'm grateful for you too, Daisy. I'm really glad I know what your name means and stuff."

Luigi wished she could smile like that all the time; he knew it was rough, having only one living parent and ruling an entire parallel world that she was still just getting to know.

Daisy seemed deep in thought. "I'm glad too. You know… Once I got back and was able to talk with my father, I wondered sometimes why Mom named me after a flower. It wasn't like many flowers grew in Dinohattan, especially under Koopa's rule. But from what you told me about what they mean, I think I know why they named me Daisy."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Daisies represent hope, right? I think they meant it as hope for the future, for the kingdom of Saurasaland. Maybe even for both our worlds."

"You know," Luigi said, leaning in, "I think maybe—maybe they meant the other meaning, too, about beauty and stuff. I don't know if you believe me, Daisy, but I want you to believe me when I tell you you're beautiful, and I love you, and I just lost my train of thought, please bear with me."

Daisy laughed and pulled him in for a kiss, and the connection made hope flutter in both their chests. If anything could bridge the two worlds, love could.

"So," she said at last. "You want to know what I learned about flowers lately?"

Luigi blinked. "What?"

"Dinohattan has flowers too—but some are carnivorous, like venus fly traps. Others are like snapdragons that breathe fire! I bet there's even more species waiting to be discovered, and given your newfound interest…do you want to help us figure out what they are and what they could mean?"

"You mean I could, like, name 'em or discover 'em and stuff?"

Daisy nodded. "The ones we have are being monitored so they won't hurt anyone—at least, that's what Iggy and Spike said before I left. Hopefully they've remained secure."

Luigi groaned. "With those two knuckleheads in charge I wouldn't be surprised if you've got a Little Shop of Horrors. I'll be right over, soon as I get Mario to come along, and maybe Daniella. She always did like flowers; I better tell her not to bring anything fancy in case they bite."

As he readied himself for what would be his third interdimensional trip, Luigi grinned. He'd swallow his pride and admit it: Earthly flowers weren't so bad after all. And Dinohattan flowers were probably really cool, especially those venus fly trap thingies.

But even those couldn't hold a candle to Daisy—and what her name meant, for herself and in his heart.