In near-future Japan, a sudden genetic mutation has caused the birth ratio of men to women to collapse to 1:50. Men are protected by the state as living national treasures, while women fight desperately to win a man's heart and secure a future. High school student Yuma Arimura transfers into a mixed-gender school where boys are almost nonexistent. The moment he walks into class, girls scream, faint, snap photos, and whisper about wanting to be his. Yuma just wants a normal life, but everywhere h
National Treasure High - Harem collapse, and abduction
The classroom air had remained frozen solid for days now.
Just walking down the hallway, Arimura Yuuma could make the girls' murmuring stop dead. The gazes watching him from a distance had shifted into something mixing curiosity and contempt.
(Ah, here we go. This again.)
Yuuma cursed inwardly. The more he defended Sumika, the stronger the backlash from those around him became. Ever since that morning when he'd picked up her textbook, none of his classmates would speak to him properly anymore. No—it wasn't just that they wouldn't speak to him. A thick, clinging indifference continued, as if they saw his very existence as nothing more than air.
Even so, when morning came, he went to the classroom. If he went, Sumika would be there.
"...Yuuma-kun. Good morning."
The seat at the very back of the classroom. Sumika sat with her back straight as always. Her waist-length black-purple hair was perfectly neat, and her narrow, sharp eyes quietly watched him. Every time he saw those eyes, Yuuma's chest felt raw. Deep within Sumika's pupils, a predatory glint flickered from time to time. Pretending not to notice it had already become a habit.
"Morning."
He replied curtly and set his bag down at his own desk. He could sense the girls in class whispering to each other. Probably about that rumor. The story that Sumika had once pushed another girl down the stairs to protect Yuuma. An incident that Shirase Inori had spread—something that could be truth or lie. The atmosphere of the entire school had changed since then.
Even when the first-period bell rang, the restless, buzzing air didn't fade. Yuuma only pretended to open his notebook and endured.
(I want to believe in Sumika. But... when I remember that confession, my body tenses up no matter what.)
"I'm not yours."
Words he'd repeated countless times in his head. But he couldn't throw them at Sumika. Because he'd seen her tears. Because he'd seen that crazed face as she declared it was all to protect him.
Lunch break.
The melon bread from the school store tasted the same as before. Chewing it dryly, Yuuma headed toward the rooftop. That rooftop garden where he'd often talked with Sumika until a few days ago. Today, he'd go alone. He'd decided that, yet his feet stopped in front of the stairway door.
"...Hah."
A deep sigh escaped him. He couldn't go to the rooftop. If he went, he felt like Sumika would be waiting there. She'd take his hand with that smile harboring madness. Thinking that, his legs wouldn't move.
The women's conflicts. Sumika's possessiveness. Inori's schemes. Everything revolved around him—a single man. National treasure this, resource that, genetic rights. He was truly, utterly sick of it.
Yuuma quietly headed toward the back of the school building.
The area behind the school was cold and damp. Blue moss clung thickly to the wall where sunlight never reached. An unkempt, deserted place. Here alone, no one could see him. Not the girls' stares, not Sumika's eyes, not Inori's sweet whispers.
He leaned against the wall and slid down to sit.
The cold concrete against his back chilled him through.
(I can't open my heart to Sumika. And yet I bowed my head to Inori. That day, asking her to tell me about the stair incident. I was supposed to have decided to trust Sumika. God, why. Who am I supposed to believe?)
He covered his face with both hands and hugged his knees. Curling his back, his stomach tightened. Inori's cold blue eyes and Sumika's tearful gaze spun round and round in his head.
(I just want to be normal. Just an ordinary high school student...)
He knew it was a wish that would never come true. In this world, a man couldn't be ordinary.
That was when it happened.
A faint sound came from behind him. Before he could turn, a sharp pain shot through the back of his neck.
With a crack, agony exploded through his entire body. A stun gun. The moment those words flickered through the corner of his mind, his vision burst white.
"Gh... ah—"
A voiceless sound leaked out. The strength drained from his limbs, and his body pitched forward. The ground rushed up. His vision warped and twisted, and finally, he heard two sets of footsteps.
(This is bad. Someone—)
His consciousness cut out there.
―――
It was a cold place.
A dim concrete room. Damp air seeped into his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Faint outside light filtered through a corner of the ceiling. He couldn't tell if it was evening or night.
When Yuuma woke, his arms were bound behind his back, tied to something cold and cylindrical. A metal drum. The cold sensation against his back raised goosebumps.
"...Ngh."
He tried to move, and the rope bit into his wrists. It hurt. His fingertips were numb.
"Looks like you're awake, treasure boy."
A young woman's voice. When he raised his head, two women stood before him. Both wore black suits—one with short hair, the other with long hair tied back. Cladness operatives. With unnervingly composed expressions, they stared down at him mechanically.
"You people... what do you want?"
His voice was hoarse. His throat was dry, his tongue sticking. His rope-bound arms wouldn't move at all, and worse, the sensation in his left wrist felt light. His identag was gone. The silver bracelet that let the Administration Bureau track him by GPS. Just having it removed made him feel cold to his core.
"What do we want? That's obvious. Male genes are worth money. A young national treasure like you can fetch quite a price."
The short-haired woman smirked, raising one corner of her mouth. The long-haired woman spoke, as if explaining the meaning of standing beside her.
"We've removed your identag. Now neither the Administration Bureau nor your guards know where you are. Stop resisting pointlessly."
Yuuma felt his palms growing damp with sweat. His heart was racing. But his mind was strangely clear.
(So that's how it is. This is how I become a resource as a national treasure.)
Nausea rose in him. He wanted to vomit up everything in his stomach. In a world where men were rare, men became living commodities. The male disappearances he'd occasionally heard about on the news in Mitaka City. He was now the subject of one.
"Come on, stay still. We're only taking two or three samples. The pain lasts just a second."
The long-haired woman picked up a syringe. The silver needle gleamed in the dim room. Beside it, medical extraction tools were laid out carelessly. Needles in sterile packaging, tubes, vials. The thought that all of these were tools prepared to extract something from him made the nausea surge.
The woman grabbed Yuuma's arm.
"Don't touch me...!"
"Don't struggle. If you struggle, we won't make this painless."
The short-haired woman pinned Yuuma's shoulder. Even for a man, bound as he was, there was no way to resist. The needle drew closer to the inside of his arm. A few more centimeters. The moment it was about to pierce his skin—
Something glinted at the edge of his vision.
High on the wall, there was a small gap. Outside light streamed through thinly. Catching that light, something small on the floor sparkled back.
—A crescent moon-shaped pendant top.
The same shape as the necklace Sumika wore. The thin chain had snapped, leaving only the small crescent lying there. That was the same shape as the scar carved into her neck when Sumika had protected him as a child. Yuuma's heart lurched violently.
(Sumika. The scar on her neck...)
That was over ten years ago. When Yuuma was barely old enough to understand anything, he'd been targeted by the organization that preceded Cladness. He'd heard the story from his mother. Sumika had shielded Yuuma with her own body, and her neck had been cut in the process. A crescent-shaped scar. Since then, Sumika had never tried to leave Yuuma's side.
(Sumika's madness began with that scar. Even so, she did it to protect me—)
"Don't move. This will finish it."
The needle touched his skin. The cold metal sensation. A prick of pain, and the illusion of blood's taste spreading through the back of his throat.
(Like hell I'm losing. Not in a place like this.)
He clenched his teeth.
―――
At that time, Seirei Academy was dyed in twilight.
"Yuuma-kun...! Where is Yuuma-kun? Has anyone seen Arimura-kun?"
Sumika was running through the school in a frenzy. Classrooms, hallways, cafeteria, library. Yuuma was nowhere. A male student vanishing suddenly after school on a weekday—something that must never happen—her skin was screaming it.
"I don't know. Maybe he ran away because of you?"
A passing female student spat with a laugh. Sumika nearly grabbed the girl by the collar but barely restrained herself. Instead, she bit her lip and quickened her pace.
"...Please. Be safe. Don't leave me behind."
Her prayer-like voice dissolved into the cold air of the school building.
Behind the school. On the damp, shaded ground, something had fallen. The moment Sumika ran in, she spotted it. A small silver fragment. Part of an identag's clasp. When she picked it up, Sumika's fingertips began to tremble violently.
"No... no, no, no...!"
Sumika collapsed to the ground. On her knees, she clutched the fragment to her chest. She barely managed to swallow the bile rising in her throat. I couldn't protect Yuuma-kun again. It's my fault—because I created an atmosphere that crushed the school. Because Yuuma-kun had to search for an escape alone.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Yuuma-kun. It's my fault. If I—if I had just noticed sooner..."
Her screaming voice soaked into the ground. For the first time, Sumika cursed her own madness from the bottom of her heart.
At that time, Tobe Setsu was already moving.
"Arimura-sama's identag signal has been lost within the school grounds. Last detection: behind the school building. High probability of intentional removal rather than destruction."
As a guard-in-training, she maintained her composure and immediately sent an emergency report to the Human Resources Administration Bureau. She checked Arimura Yuuma's GPS history from the Bureau's terminal. However, the signal was outside the critical jurisdiction, and part of the data was locked. It couldn't be traced easily.
(Even so. I will—for Arimura-sama—)
Setsu ran, her dark silver ponytail swaying. She used the information network drilled into her at guard school through her own channels. Fellow guard trainees, several witness-report sites. It was only minutes later that she found a post saying black vans had been seen coming and going from the old East Tachikawa warehouse district.
"...Here."
Setsu stared hard at the map displayed on her mobile terminal. To move on a rescue, she should wait for official orders from the Administration Bureau. She knew that. But waiting would only increase the danger to Yuuma.
(Arimura-sama. I will definitely—)
She bit her lip. Beneath her expressionless face, only her heart burned as if scorched.
―――
Chemistry prep room.
Hawata Suzui stood alone by the window where the sunset streamed in. Her reddish-brown short bob swayed in the outside breeze. The bandage on her left hand had long since come off. She couldn't even be bothered to fix her disheveled uniform.
"Yuuma's been kidnapped."
She'd heard the news in the hallway at noon. That man had been taken by someone. Sumika was apparently running through the school screaming. Setsu had apparently contacted the Administration Bureau.
"...None of my business. The guy's gone—should be a relief."
In the empty prep room, Suzui spat the words out. But her voice was weak. So weak she was disgusted with herself.
(That's a lie.)
It surfaced in the back of her mind. That time at the exchange event, when she'd fled into the chemistry prep room and first talked to him—Yuuma had asked directly, wary but straightforward: "Did I do something to you?" He was a man, but he didn't run. Her words had hurt him, but he hadn't abandoned her.
(I just hated you for no reason. Projecting all those men from my past onto you.)
"Jus
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