I'll take Swords for 500, Alex.
…when the white hand brushed through her hair that night, Rukia turned her eyes up.
“Fool you wake me--” she began. And stopped. And squinted. It was always a little bit cool Rukia’s quarters-she insisted on sleeping the door open a crack, no matter the weather, no matter the season. It was summer now, and a clear night. Yet Rukia’s skin rose in goosebumps and she felt a clatter in her teeth.
The girl was nearly her height, sitting next to her bedroll; her sleeves were long and highly embroidered. Her eyes were black and half hidden by the lank of frost colored hair.
“-now.” Rukia could see her breath. “Ah, you. You…”
The girl smiled softly, and ducked her head. She took her fingers from the shinigami’s hair.
“You’ve not changed,” said Rukia carefully, trying to hold back the break in her voice. She failed in a way that should have shamed her but did not.
“Would the Lady Rukia want me to?”
“No.” Rukia caught her by the wrist, as she began to draw away. “No. Do not. I--” She pulled her near. The body felt like a mass of whirling snowflakes, vaguely girl shaped. Rukia put her arms around her. Put her face into hair that stung her cheeks and made her eyes well up with a dampness that despite everything came cold down her face.
“I have changed,” she breathed, a confession that stung her throat in familiar way. She’d run in the winter, many, many times. “More so than I would have liked, I think.”
“Does the Lady Rukia regret this?”
“…it’s very annoying,” admitted Rukia, combing her own fingers through that white, white hair. When she felt the body shift in her arms, like the wind, the noise of protest sounded suspiciously like a whimper.
“Are you leaving?”
“Does the Lady Rukia want that?”
“Do not leave me.”
“The Lady Rukia does not want that.”
“I’ve missed you.”
Rukia felt the small hands, smaller than her own, curve along her cheeks, and beneath her that white, round face had turned up to look at her. Sharing a misty breath, the girl-she was laughing as she stroked back the woman’s hair, and touched noses with her.
“…my lady,” said Sodeno Shirayuki, in a fond jangle of ice on the wind chimes. “I know.”
...I think only Rukia can manage desperate femslashiness with a sword.