Sherkoni: It seems I have started yet another story, whilst others remain yet unfinished. But once the plot bunnies attack, you're pretty much done for. This is a retelling of the fairy tale, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. And so, I don't own the story line . . . or any other fairy tale innuendos that may appear. Neither do I own Inuyasha or Yu Yu Hakusho.

A Demon's Tale

A Snow White Parody

Chapter One

Who's the fairest of them all?

I am a woman who killed for love

I am a woman who killed for love.

I am a woman who killed for lack of love.

The mirror declares that the twin accusations are equal.

I am the black dove who pecks at the coffin.

Wanting to manage a more reliable insult,

To chew her eyes from their sockets, say, to wring

The hair from her head, to desecrate the silk

Of her unblemished skin in the way that birds do best.

She didn't like her cousin. She didn't like her at all. In fact, one could say that she utterly despised even the air her cousin breathed with. It was one of the most recognizable facts in the kingdom. And everyone should have, would have, known, if Kikyo wasn't such a good liar.

"Hail, fair cousin." A warm, ethereal smile. "Is your day well?"

"Yes." A near equal smile, only this one reached all the way to the occupant's eyes, making them glow kindly. "And yours?"

"Very fine, I must say."

"I'm so glad to hear it." A curtsy that could only be defined as cute. "Good day, cousin."

Kikyo watched Kagome leave down the hall, her eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. Every day Kagome's lips seemed a little fuller and sensuous, everyday her body curved a little more, everyday her skin glowed more like cream, her hair a little shinier, her lips a little rosier.

"And I'm only getting older and uglier!" Her bitter voice echoed dully off the empty halls.

Kikyo's shoulders slumped in defeat, since no one was around to witness her sorrow. She stalked off to her room to do the one thing that always made her feel better. She opened her bedroom door and entered her elaborately decorated room. She slowly closed the door, silently locking the handle with a golden key she kept in her pocket.

She glanced apprehensively around the room, even though she knew no one could possibly be in here but herself, and walked to a pair of emerald green curtains. When she drew them back, no window was to be beheld, but a large, fancy mirror instead. The frame was pure gold, intertwined with emeralds and diamonds, but where she should have seen her own beautiful reflection, there was only a misty darkness.

Kikyo straightened herself and drew in a breath, speaking in a clear voice. "Mirror, mirror on the wall-"

Her sentence was cut short as the blackness came alive in vivid swirls, a small childish voice vibrating through her room. "It is I, the fabulous Mirror on the Wall. I know all, I see all, and I'm here til Thursday. Knowing the answer to anything you desire can be yours with 0 interest rates. Ask today!" A brief pause. "Must be beautiful or otherwise to call."

Kikyo glared at it. "MUST you do that EVERY time?"

The mirror's face appeared with a sulky pout on it's young features. "Yes, I must. Now don't complain or I'll be forced to tell you what's really in diet wine."

Kikyo looked momentarily horrified, but quickly wiped it away with an impatient frown. "Listen you, I still need to ask my question. Mirror, mirror, on the wall-"

"You know," the mirror interrupted again. "I don't really like being referred to as 'Mirror on the Wall' it's so . . . artless, don't you think?" Kikyo looked ready to scream. "Besides, you ask the same question every time."

Kikyo decided to skip the introduction altogether. "Who's the fai-"

"NO." The mirror was downright agitated. "I don't want you to skip the title completely. It makes you sound disrespectful. I'd rather just be called, Master Shippo, if you don't mind."

"And if I do?"

"I might just feel the urge to suffer temporary memory loss."

Kikyo stared at it for a few moments, blinking a few times. In the next instant she was walking to her bed and stuffing a pillow into her face. A sort of muffled scream was heard (-here, due to rating reasons, the scene is switched to Shippo whistling 'Reflection' to himself. Groovy.-)

"Okay." Kikyo approached the mirror again, slowly straightening out her dress, an eerily pleasant smile on her face. "Master Shippo. Who's the fairest of them all?"

"Why, Kikyo," Shippo began, but then stopped. 'You are of course,' was on the tip of his tongue. It had been the same answer for years, but now, a new truth was rising to his brain. A visage much like Kikyo's, only kinder and softer looking. It hit him like an annoying wet noodle to the forehead.

Kagome.

He frowned inwardly. If Kagome was now indeed fairer than Kikyo, there was no telling what Kikyo would do to make it so she was the more beautiful one again. He liked Kagome, and he hated to be the one that would begin her downfall. But what else could he do? It was against 'magic mirror' principles to lie. But perhaps he could slip by with a little stretch of the truth...

But Kikyo had seen his pause. She had sensed the uneasiness in the air. "Who!" she all but screamed, grabbing the sides of the mirror with both hands. She gave it a rough shake. "Don't lie to me Shippo, who's the fairest in the land! I can see it in your eyes, it isn't me!"

"No, it isn't you." Shippo finally admitted, clearing his throat nervously.

"Don't tell me . . ."

'Lie!' a voice screamed in his head. Then, the voice paused before correcting itself, 'No, our mistake, you can't lie. The only thing that makes you magical is the fact that you always tell the truth. Carry on.'

"It's Kagome," he said. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable blow.

Usually, if the author wanted to sound witty, they might say something like, "But it never came," about right here. Or, "But he waited in vain . . .". That was what Shippo was hoping for, but unfortunately, this particular author is hardly witty.

A piercing scream echoed through Kikyo's room, passing through the halls, making the carpet shiver. Through the gardens and chapels, making the flowers shrivel and the glass shatter. Through every stinking room in the entire palace, drifting to every single living thing's ears, which made them all groan and cover their hearing passages. But it was the most painful to Kagome, who was in the middle of afternoon tea, because it was not a scream of misery and defeat, it was a scream of anger and vengeance.

"Is that Kikyo?" she said, covering her ears painfully.

Sango tried to steady her rippling beverage, raising her voice over the noise. "Maybe she found a new wrinkle!"

They all laughed.

o

"Please don't let me be broken. Please don't let me broken," Shippo whimpered repeatedly to himself after the scream had ended, his eyes shut tight behind his mirror's protection.

"You are not broken," Kikyo snapped, breaking him out of his reverie. "Now stop sniveling and make yourself useful. Where is Miroku?"

"Eh . . ." Shippo probed his all-knowing mind for minute. "In the gardens."

Kikyo walked to her door and yanked it open, sticking her head out. "MIRRROOOOKUUUUUUUUU!"

So, why did she want to know where he was if she was just going to blow the whole kingdom's ears off again yelling for him? Shippo gave a dismal sigh. Women.

The scream had worked, for in seconds, Miroku was dashing up the halls towards Kikyo's room. "Yes, m'lady?" he panted, bending over slightly to catch his breath. When Kikyo yelled for you, you wasted no time in getting to wherever she was. Be it in a patch of quicksand or her room. Personally, Miroku preferred the quicksand.

"Come here, Monk." She wasted no time in gripping his navy blue cloak and yanking him into her room. She swiftly locked her door again and turned to face him. "I have an assignment for you."

"Do you?" Miroku tried to look enthusiastic.

"I need you to kill Kagome."

Miroku stared at her incredulously. After a moment, he shook his head and brought a pinky to his ear, effectively cleaning out any stray wax. "My apologies, I just hallucinated. What did you say?"

"I said, I need you to kill Kagome."

Miroku looked appalled, because he had indeed heard correctly. "What! Why? Why would you want to kill Kagome?"

As was mentioned before, Kikyo was a very good liar. Everyone believed, including Miroku, that Kikyo adored her cousin. "Well . . ." Kikyo had suddenly remembered this, and she most certainly didn't want to lose her finest Monk's trust. "She's come down with a case of, uh . . . . Sculiostrasisicular."

"Scooly . . . moley . . . bumbleninny?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"But-"

"It's terrible. First your outsides rot so you look ugly and no one can stand to be around you. Then, your insides rot. Only, very, very slowly. It's the most painful thing in the world. But the worst part is, it's also very contagious. So, to put her out of her misery and to save the rest of the kingdom, you must kill her."

Miroku narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am! Have I ever been anything but honest to you?"

"No . . ." Miroku muttered helplessly. He was about to say more, but he thought he heard a low twitter that sounded like laughter coming from the pair of green curtains on the wall, but that was stupid. He was hallucinating again. Only, he didn't actually hallucinate the first time . . . "Uh, Kikyo-"

"Hurry now." She ushered him out of the room before he could say anything else. She took his face into her slim hands. "The kingdom is counting on you Miroku. Don't let me, us, down."

Miroku wanted to object and beg that someone else be given the horrible task, but because a beautiful woman's hands were on his face, his mind was having trouble concentrating on wholesome things. "Er . . ."

"Good luck," she whispered, giving a quick wink before hastily turning away to leave.

It wasn't until after Kikyo had vanished down the hall and out of sight that Miroku managed to say, "Okay, fine. Don't even worry about it. I'll just go kill one of my closest friends. It'll hardly affect me, really."

What he really needed to do, was find Sango. Sango was the other princess in the kingdom. Kikyo was the queen, since she was the oldest. Actually, Keiko was the oldest, but a couple of years ago she had gotten a sleeping spell put on her. The kingdom had nicknamed her Sleeping Beauty, because no matter how many counter-spells or remedies anyone tried, she continued to slumber. Since then, she obviously couldn't rule the kingdom anymore, so Kikyo took over.

If memory served him correctly, Sango would just be getting done with afternoon tea. He walked down to the sitting room and waited patiently behind the corner. He only had to wait a minute before the laughter of young girls grew louder through the halls.

Three girls passed around the corner with hardly a glance in his direction. He reached out a hand and grabbed the closest one's arm. The girl spun around to face him, arm raised to give the offender a good slap. When she saw who it was, she paused for only a moment, before slapping him anyway.

"Ow . . ." Miroku rubbed his sore cheek. "What was that for?"

Sango shrugged indifferently. "For thinking perverted things."

Miroku gave her an offended frown. "Surely you jest." He put on the most innocent-looking face he could muster. "Do I look like I'm thinking perverted things?"

Sango narrowed her eyes. "Yes."

Miroku sighed and rolled his eyes. Truth be told, he HAD been thinking some not so clean things, so he wasn't all that insulted. His eyes flitted back to Sango for a moment.

He loved Sango. He knew it from the minute he met her. From the very first slap. This thought occurred repeatedly to him in awkward silences like this. He opened his mouth, the words, 'I love you,' resting on his tongue.

And . . . resting.

When nothing came out, Sango raised an eyebrow questioningly, Miroku continuing his amazing fish impression. "Are you going to say something? Or just stand there with your mouth open?"

Something like that usually happened too, not that he minded. He wasn't all sure he wanted to tell her that much. When the time was right, and it had to be the perfect time, he would know, and then, he would tell her. "No, I'm , uh . . ." He opened his mouth a little wider and yawned. "Just yawning."

A confused look. "Okay."

He brought a finger to his lips to silence her and motioned with his hand for her to follow him into an unoccupied room.

When the door was securely locked behind them, Sango folded her arms across her chest impatiently, her face growing even more confused. "What's so secretive?"

"Kagome's dying."

"WHAT?"

"Ssh!" Miroku glanced around nervously to see if anyone had heard. When he heard no other sound but their breathing, he repeated, "Kagome's dying and Kikyo wants me to kill her."

"Are you insane?" Sango hissed. "Kagome isn't dying! I was with her ten minutes ago! She's perfectly fine!"

"She's got Scolio-jolley-osisulary."

"She's got a what now?"

"Sculimenta-braintumor-jitis."

"Sculiostrasisicular?"

"No, you're saying it wrong."

"Wellexcuse me."

"Look, the point is, she's dying."

Sango slapped Miroku's hand away, which was getting dangerously close to her bottom end. "She can't be dying. I know for a fact that she's perfectly healthy - and she would've acted differently if she was dying."

Miroku frowned. "But why would Kikyo lie about this? She wants her DEAD, Sango."

Sango frowned and began pacing the room in thought, her dress swishing furiously with her hasty walk. "Maybe, Kikyo wants her dead for another reason, and she's just using the disease as an excuse."

"No!"

"Yes." Sango stopped and fixed Miroku with a hard stare. "That's got to be it. Kikyo's been fooling us all. Why, I can't say right now, but I say we find out."

"This is intense," Miroku breathed, eyes wide with the shocking realization. "I feel just like Nancy Drew or something."

Suddenly, with zealous lightning and thunder, the author, namely Sherkoni, storms in and promptly thwats Miroku across the head with her HunterXHunter manga. "You dolt! This is far before Nancy Drew was invented!"

Miroku rubbed his head. "Oh . . ."

Sherkoni sighed and walked out of the room. "Try again . . ."

"This is intense," Miroku breathed, albeit sounding a little agitated. "I feel just like Sherlock Holmes or something."

Sherkoni stormed in again. "No! God dammit, this was before Sherlock Holmes too! Get your history straight . . ." She then. . . .um, walks out.

"This is intense," Miroku ground out, a vein twitching in his head. "I feel just like a detective or something. Naturally, I mean a detective of our time."

Sango, for all her fierceness before, was suddenly looking a little timid. "What do we do Miroku?" she whispered. "If you don't kill Kagome, she'll have someone else do it."

Then, a very rare thing happened, Miroku had an idea. "What if . . ." he began slowly, "I only pretend to kill her, but really leave her in the Makai forest, and bring back an animal's heart instead, for proof? Then, we can come back for her and keep her in hiding until we find out why Kikyo wants to kill her." His voice had picked up tempo and confidence.

"Miroku!" Sango cried happily, also a little surprised. "That's a fabulous idea! Kagome usually goes for a walk right about now, so take her to the forest."

Miroku straightened his shoulders in an attempt to look heroic. "Fine. You mustn't tell anyone though, Sango."

"I won't," she promised softly. She brought a hand up to his cheek shyly, a soft pink rinsing over her cheeks. "You be careful."

His heroic stance melted almost instantly at her soft touch and a little twinge of foreboding passed through his eyes. "I will." And so, a rather romantic moment occurs.

Each blushed and broke the heavy gaze that held both their eyes, coughing embarrassedly. "I better get going," Miroku muttered, hurrying out of the room.

- - - - -

"It's so nice of you to take me on a walk to the forest," Kagome said, smiling brightly at Miroku. "I'm always too afraid to go alone."

"Yeah . . ." Miroku croaked uneasily. Kagome had done nothing but make his task more difficult since the moment they left. She seemed to purposely be laying guilt upon him with her gratitude and indifferent happiness.

"Although . . ." She eyed his sword and bow and arrow suspiciously. "I can't say that I feel all that more comfortable with it."

Miroku said nothing, keeping his eyes trained forward. "Aw, lighten up," Kagome laughed uneasily. "I'm just kidding with you."

"Kagome," Miroku said, his lips not even twitching in an upwards direction. "I have to tell you something."

Kagome frowned at his serious tone. "What is it?"

"Well," he said, "there's no easy way to say this so . . . I'm just going to come right out and say it. Kikyo's trying to kill you."

Kagome stopped walking and searched Miroku's face for any sign that he might be kidding. She found none. Nonetheless, she let out a loud, non-believing laugh. "What?" She paused to laugh again. "Miroku, we both know Kikyo would never want to kill me!"

He looked at her gravely. "That's what I thought." He paused before continuing. "Kagome, Kikyo asked me to kill you."

"No," Kagome argued, but her voice sounded weak in her own ears. "No, she didn't."

"Kagome . . ."

"Miroku, this isn't funny."

"Kagome," he said, his voice taut with frustration. "I assure you that I am in no way trying to be humorous."

Kagome finally allowed the possibility to enter her mind. Would her beloved cousin actually want her dead? She was always so kind and honest. Wait... not really...

It really could be true, and if facts came to facts, who did she really trust more - Miroku? Or Kikyo? She trusted Miroku more, without a doubt. He was the second closest person to her in the kingdom, save for Sango.

"Does Sango know? Does she believe it?"

Miroku nodded.

With that gesture alone, the harsh reality hit Kagome right between the eyes like a small flash of lightning. Kikyo wanted her dead! But it couldn't be, she had always acted so kind towards her. Distant, perhaps, but still kind. What could have caused her cousin to think such things against her? "Miroku," she whispered, little dots forming in front of her eyes.

Miroku grabbed hold of her arms to steady her. "Easy Kagome . . ."

"I can't believe this could happen."Her eyes glazed over distantly. "What's to become of me?"

"Listen, I have a plan," he said, shaking her a little to get her attention.

Kagome shot up straight, immediately releasing his arms. "You aren't going to kill me, are you?"

Miroku shot her an annoyed look. "Of course not, don't be stupid. You'll just have to hide out in the forest for a little while until I can catch an animal and bring it's heart to Kikyo."

"And then?" Kagome paled slightly at the thought of spending any alone time in the forest.

"And then Sango and I will find somewhere to hide you until we find out why Kikyo wants to kill you."

Kagome thought it over to herself. It seemed like a good enough plan. She was a little scared of the forest, but she knew there was no other way. "Okay," she consented with a weak smile. "Just hurry."

Miroku smiled. "I will."

He led her dutifully into the forest, not too far in, but far enough that anyone that was just strolling through the edge wouldn't see her. They'd gone in about half a mile when a large oak came into view, it's roots jutting far out of the ground in gnarled arches. "This is perfect!" Miroku declared upon seeing the tree. "You'll be safe in the roots of this tree, and out of sight. I'll have no trouble finding it again, either."

Kagome only nodded, examining the tree behind cautious brown eyes. Miroku helped her into the great knot of roots, making sure that she was out of sight. "Are you comfortable?" he called down to her.

"Do you mean the knot in my stomach? Or the one sticking into my rear end?"

"The one in your rear end, darling." He took off his large cloak and tossed it down to her. "Here, use this as a cushion."

There were a few ruffling noises and a few agitated huffs, before she answered. "Thanks."

"I'll be back in a few hours. Stay safe!"

"No problem."

"I love you, Kagome."

"Like a sister, I should think."

"How else?"

"Nothing else. It's not so hard to say, you see? You should try it on Sango."

"I will, someday."

"Today."

"Perhaps."

A lengthy pause, wherein Kagome had thought she had been left alone.

"Kagome?"

"Yes, Miroku?"

"How did you know?"

"Woman's intuition."

"Oh . . . okay."

Another long pause.

"Goodbye Kagome."

"Goodbye Miroku."

A good few minutes after Miroku's footsteps had faded away, Kagome sighed and tried to settle herself a little better. Miroku's cloak helped, but it was still a rather bumpy and uncomfortable seating arrangement. Twigs poked continuously at her and no two body parts were on the same level. She gazed up miserably at the few shafts of sunlight that were streaming through. This was going to be a long few hours.

- - - -

His last name was an odd one - and he was the first to admit it. What kind of a hell name is Charming anyhow? He wasn't charming and his father wasn't. And his brother was most certainly not charming. His mother, he supposed, was rather charming. But her former last name had been Maguire.

It became very annoying to be announced as "Prince Charming" and then have people meet you, only to realize that you really aren't all that charming. Such was his current dilemma. He was off to meet the most current princess his mother had set him up with, most likely to fall short of the Princess's expectations she had concocted when she heard his name.

Snow White, this one was called. Of course, that wasn't her real name, just a nickname. Snow White because of her milky white skin, raven black hair and lips as red as blood. The red lips and black hair really had nothing to do with her name, but they came with the assigned description anyway.

He wasn't exactly sure what her real name was . . .

I suppose I'll have to find that out . . . he mused to himself as he approached the castle doors. The guard that stood post glanced at him suspiciously. "State yer name and business."

"Prince Charming, here to see Princess Snow White."

The post nodded in recognition. "Fine then." With a swift pull, he unlatched the gates and they creaked open for the lethargic young prince.

"Thanks." He nodded briefly before striding dutifully into the castle grounds. He glanced around at the bustling servants and noblemen before coming to the annoying conclusion that he had no idea where to go.

"Excuse me," he tried to get a young maid's attention, but was brushed off indifferently. He growled at her retreating back before stomping off to find someone else. He couldn't get help from anyone. After a few minutes of fruitless search, he was starting to panic a little. Didn't they know he was coming?

His walk had increased to such a speed that when he whipped mindlessly around a corner, he ran smack into someone - hard. He winced as a twinge of pain shot up his rump where he landed on the ground and glanced up to see the poor soul who had been on the opposite end.

It was a young monk dressed in navy blue robes, a religious staff clutched in his hands. He was groaning and rubbing his arm where he had landed. "Sorry," Prince Charming said gruffly.

The monk glanced up at him before waving a hand dismissively. "No, it was my fault . . ." He hauled himself to his feet, picking up a small box that had fallen to the ground. The Prince noticed, in surprise and disgust, that blood stains covered the sides of the box.

With a feeling of horror, he realized it probably contained some type of body organ or something. What kind of Monk was this! He watched as the Monk hurriedly started around the corner before realizing that he still needed directions. "Hey, wait!" The Monk stopped and turned to face him, a look of annoyance on his face. "Do you know where I can find Snow White?"

A look of apprehension passed over the monk's features, regarding the Prince carefully. "Why do you need her?"

The Prince sighed, growing irritated. "I'm Prince Charming, I'm supposed to meet her–"

"Oh no! I forgot about that!"

The Prince raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? It doesn't matter if you remembered or not. Just tell me where she is!"

"Well," the monk said, suddenly looking very flustered. "That's uh . . . a bit difficult to do right now. . ."

"What do you mean, 'it's a bit difficult'?" The Prince asked suspiciously.

The monk waved his hands in front of his face in a nervous manner. "Nothing, nothing at all! Here," his voice had suddenly gotten an odd squeak to it, "That's the way to the palace. Make yourself comfortable in the sitting room - I'll find her for you and send her right up!"

The Prince frowned. More waiting. How positively peachy. "Fine."

"Great, thank you, see ya!"

"Wait a minute," The Prince said, eyeing the monk critically. The religious matron paused and turned to face him, a look across his face that resembled a child getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Yes?"

"What's your name?"

He looked surprised at the odd question. "Uh . . . Miroku." He nodded at the brief formality, smiling merely for good grace. "And you're Prince Charming, correct? Nice to meet you."

The royal's mouth twisted in an odd way of distaste. "Yeah, but call me Inuyasha."

Sherkoni: As you can see, not many of the Yu Yu Hakusho characters have made their debut, save for Keiko. They're probably going to appear as the seven dwarfs. Ne'er fear.

Next Chapter:

The Search Begins

- Kagome's turned up missing from her hiding place (perhaps to discover a cottage -cough-) and Miroku and Sango are forced to let Inuyasha in on the secret. But when Prince Delightful comes to call as well, who will get to the lovely princess first? And what does Kikyo have to say about all of this?