Inevitably though, things did change. Inevitably, they grew up.
Renji's gang were the lucky ones. They looked out for one another. Some of the other kids just disappeared, left the shack one day and never came up, but they were the survivors. Years passed and they watched the town change and grow, new roads flattening old houses, new dwellings engulfing the slum, creeping steadily upwards into the green hills of the Rukon.
They were no longer children, but nor were they adults. They were old enough and big enough to no longer be easy targets and, from the hill where they lived down to the edge of the river, they had earned their reputation and their territory.
It was late afternoon. Renji had spent the day carving a shaft of wood into something resembling a spear for fishing and now they were sloping along the edge of the river at the rolling pace of youths with nowhere to go and nothing better to do. Hayate was jumping in and out of the water, splashing the others who charged up and down the beach as if they were their own tide, while Renji, out in front, had his head down, dragging the spear, so that it drew a line in the mud behind him. He barely glanced back as Hayate capered past him, then chased the two youngest boys up the steep bank.
Their progress was impeded by a pile of debris on the bank. They all climbed up and over the detritus, like rats through garbage, except Renji who had paused at its pinnacle and was squatting, staring at something on the water's edge. Rukia paused and looked back:
"What is it, Renji?"
"A corpse, I think." Immediately, the youngest boys rushed back, overcome with macabre curiosity. Hayate remained, standing beside her. He yawned and wiped the sweat out of his eyes, disappointed to no longer be the centre of attention. And Renji was still squatting on his mountain of rubbish, carefully prodding his find with the butt end of the spear. That was how it was. They were not above stealing from the dead. Far from it, if it meant food or water for them, or something else they could trade for sustenance. Life in Rukongai was about being the one who was alive at the end of the day.
"She drowned!" Kenichi, the youngest, shouted back to them. He seemed thrilled. Rukia rolled her eyes:
"Who cares? We were going fishing!" As she finished speaking though, there was a ruckus amongst the boys and all but Renji sprang away, sprinting towards her through the mud. Renji had fallen backwards, nearly head over heels:
"It's alive!" he cried, causing an avalanche of rubbish and flotsam as he regained his feet and slip-slid down the pile of garbage to join the others. His corpse had sat up and was watching them resentfully. As Renji came bounding past, Rukia stared at the woman; just another soul, possibly one that was barely self-aware because how else would she have found her way out here to become just another piece of rubbish washed up by the river? Her eyes met Rukia's for a moment, making her wonder just what it would be like to live that way. Then Rukia turned and sprinted after her friends.