I'm Kiyora, a working adult employed at the Male Protection Bureau.
Because of my small stature and flat chest, people often mistake me for a minor, but I am, without a doubt, a fully grown adult.
Sexually, I'm still a virgin—I haven't experienced pregnancy or childbirth yet—so some still call me a child. But that's something I'll deal with in time.
If I wanted to, I could have a child through artificial insemination. However, being a virgin who gives birth that way tends to get you mocked as a "Holy Mother." That's why figuring out how to lose my virginity first is crucial.
Of course, breaking it myself would be ridiculous, and doing it with another woman is out of the question. It should happen naturally, with someone I love.
At least, that's what I used to think…
Our Job at the Protection Bureau
At the Male Protection Bureau, our job is to help men in need. The ones we protect are usually those who either despise women or have been victims of assault—often by older women who have exploited them.
Each man is assigned a bodyguard, but that doesn't mean we can prevent every incident. Sometimes, teenage boys, desperate for freedom, run away, creating all kinds of complications.
We deal with cases of drunken abductions, attempted human trafficking, and deeply traumatized men who have lost all trust in women.
Since our bureau is staffed almost entirely by women and there are few male officials, we often bear the brunt of these men's anger and resentment.
By the time we receive reports and requests for help, the damage has usually already been done. Because we always arrive after the fact, if we fail to rescue someone properly, we're hated even more than the perpetrators. That's why we make a huge spectacle of every rescue—because, in this society, criminals have no rights.
But despite all this, it's almost unheard of for our work to lead to romance.
And honestly, can you blame them? To these men, we're just another group of women—indistinguishable from their aggressors.
The hopeful, enthusiastic version of me who started this job a year ago is long gone. But work is work. I do my job.
Though, if I'm being honest, I'd love nothing more than to kill some of the rapists we encounter—especially when they seem to enjoy life more than we do.
A Glimpse of Normal Life
As I walked past a park, I saw children laughing and playing, their mothers chatting nearby as they kept watch.
"Haaah…"
A sigh escaped my lips before I even realized it.
Seeing parents with their children always made me envious.
I was left at a baby hatch—a so-called "Stork's Cradle"—before I was even old enough to remember. That meant I grew up as an orphan, never knowing what it was like to have parents.
There were plenty of other children at the orphanage, but the concept of having a mother or father was entirely foreign to me.
No one ever came to adopt me, and when I reached the age limit, I was simply sent out into the world. The idea of having "foster parents" never even entered the picture.
A New Case
Just then, a report came in about a male in distress.
A man had been found on a deserted coastal road—abducted in a vehicle and taken away.
The suspects were connected to a powerful local figure.
The man had no known identity or nationality.
No one had seen him before the kidnapping, and there were no previous reports of him being in the area.
They claimed he "didn't seem to be resisting," but I wasn't about to trust that.
And now, they were even submitting a sample of what they claimed to be his semen?
Regardless of the quality, the issue was how they obtained it. I wouldn't know the truth until I saw the victim myself.
After everything I've witnessed, do they really think I'd just take their word for it?
My senior colleague, Kotori, was handling the paperwork, explaining things in a neutral, by-the-book manner. But I was approaching this case with the assumption that they were guilty. Especially when it came to powerful locals—I never trusted them.
A Battle of Authority
When I arrived at the scene, I was ready to charge in and put a stop to whatever was happening.
But before I could do anything, I was shut down with an overwhelming barrage of logic and cold, hard facts.
Wait—nobody told me that the most sexually aggressive person in the room, that overly familiar young girl, was the true power behind all of this?!
At the Male Protection Bureau, we technically wield more authority than most other organizations. Since our mission is to protect men at all costs, we can usually overpower even high-ranking officials.
But if the man himself claims he's consenting, we're powerless.
If he were to say, "I was raped—please help me," then we could intervene immediately.
Instead, he was clinging to this young girl—his so-called "abductor." She wrapped her arms around him, stroked his back, whispered in his ear, and even kissed him right in front of me.
I clenched my fists.
"…Must be nice."
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
That emotion—an ugly mix of jealousy, longing, and hopelessness—was something I couldn't suppress.
Author's note :The Social Hierarchy of This World
In this society, adulthood and social status are largely determined by reproductive status. Here's how it works:
Legally married couples (top of the hierarchy)
Unmarried but living together as partners
Parents with known biological children
Women who had children via government-matched artificial insemination (mockingly called "Holy Mothers")
Women with no children (regardless of age)
If you don't have children, you're treated as an incomplete adult—even if you're legally an adult. Socially, you're ranked low.
At the start of this story, Yata-chan sits comfortably at the top of the hierarchy, while Misago is at the very bottom. That explains Yata's confidence and Misago's desperate, almost pathetic anxiety.
Due to declining birth rates, reproduction is both a duty and a right. To prevent late-age pregnancies, artificial insemination is generally done by 30, though many delay it as long as possible, hoping to find a natural partner first.
Men, of course, are considered the most valuable members of society—but they are also seen as accessories. With the imbalance of power, they are often overpowered by sheer numbers and taken advantage of.
Even with bodyguards assigned to protect them, men still get kidnapped, manipulated, or sometimes even betrayed by their own guardians.
This world is a dystopia.
A work of fiction.