Winter is a disaster in the districts of South Rukongai. The freezing temperatures cause spiritual particles (Reishi) to dissipate more rapidly from wandering souls, and those with lower Reiatsu can no longer sustain their energy through breathing alone. They must rely on spirit‑rich food to survive. Shinji, Ichika, and Hiroshi grew visibly weaker day by day. Renji and Renya, at fourth‑class Reiatsu, also felt the chill, and Rukia's face appeared more pallid than usual.
Food is scarce. Prices in the slums skyrocket in winter, and these children have no currency to spare. As the cold deepened and snowfall blanketed the streets, even spirit‑strong souls began to feel the famine.
Renji watched the others and gritted his teeth. He gathered Renya and Rukia outside their shelter and addressed the group. "If we don't do something soon, Shinji and the others will starve."
Rukia frowned. "Where can we find food?"
Renji looked toward the rundown lane. "We have no choice: we must steal."
Renya's eyes widened. "Steal?"
Renji nodded. "We're dying here if we don't. Murata's house over there—they bake buns fresh every morning. We can try to take a few."
Rukia thought for a moment. "Maybe we could ask them for help?"
Renji shook his head. "Murata's family isn't cruel, but they only help their own. No leftovers come our way."
They glanced at the three weaker souls inside. "Then…" Rukia whispered.
Renji's face hardened. "We steal."
He outlined the plan: Renji would stall by pleading for food at the house gate. Renya would sneak in through a small side window to lift buns; Rukia would wait outside to help Renya and signal when to run.
Renya and Rukia exchanged determined looks. "Understood."
They crept toward the Murata home. Peering through the low window, Renya saw a woman bustling in the kitchen. He exchanged nods with Rukia.
Renji stepped to the gate and pounded softly. When a man appeared, Renji lowered his voice. "Please, sir—we have four who are starving… Could we have something to eat?"
The man sneered, "Go away. I don't tolerate beggars." Renji only pressed more—trying to buy time.
Inside, Renya squeezed through the narrow window. He vaulted in, closing sharply behind him to muffle the sound. The fragrant steam of freshly made buns filled the room. His hand hovered over cloth-wrapped trays.
His skin stung with heat when he reached for the first bun, but he bit his lip, slid away a few buns, and stuffed them against his chest. Using a small stool, he hoisted himself back toward the window. Rukia reached in, helping transfer the stolen buns into her arms. Renya tumbled out after her—just as a clatter sounded.
The hostess cried out, and the male owner rushed to Renji, yelling: "Stop harboring thieves!"
He shoved Renji violently. Renji took the hits without resisting, shouting only, "Run!"
Rukia grabbed Renya's hand. "Go!"
They bolted. Renji stayed behind, enduring blows as the owner railed at him.
Back at their shelter, Rukia spread the four buns before Shinji, Ichika, and Hiroshi. Their eyes brightened. They clutched the plain, warm buns—rich aroma filling the room. Rukia handed a bun to Renya, who shook his head.
"I don't need one," he said quietly. "These are for her."
Rukia scolded gently. "No—they're for all of us."
Renya eventually took one, giving the last to Renji. Shinji and the others ate gratefully; their faces softened with warmth and relief.
Rukia offered hers to Renji, who refused. Renji's injuries were minor, though his pride had more bruises.
Shinji and Ichika, who couldn't passively absorb ambient Reishi, leaned on the spiritual nourishment to stabilize their Reiatsu. Renya nodded at them, thinking: I will become strong. I owe it to them all.
Despite the oppressive cold, the small act of sharing gave Renya something he hadn't felt in months: hope. A sense of home. In this brutal district of South Rukongai, they were surviving—not alone, but together.