The Witch Trial Begins with the OO Buckethead Zombie

There is another fatal problem.

“Hiro.” Hoshino Utsunomiya realized: “You remember what the warden said, right?”

She definitely remembers.

The fact that their social identities were erased was something that Hero himself proposed.

So he didn't really need to ask that question.

He didn't need to wait for Hiro to nod in response.

"Detection of the witch factor, national decision to contain it..." He paused slightly, "Even if this island is completely empty, it will not be ignored."

"One year, probably one year. If we calculate based on the timeframe, a new candidate witch will be sent next year."

The traces of the lives of various 'predecessors' on the island prove that the survival and deployment of prospective witches have a cycle.

He can boldly guess that this cycle is one year.

"What would we do if we stayed on the island then?"

"Are we happy that someone has come, and eagerly approach them to tell them we exist, hoping they will take us back to human society?"

“Impossible.” Hoshino Utsunomiya shook her head: “The moment our identities were erased, there was no turning back. We will only be regarded as witches who were not dealt with.”

"Then he was executed."

What the guards and the warden can't kill, others will.

......

"..."

Nikaido Hiro was speechless.

She shouldn't be such an unreasonable person.

She's becoming a bit too emotional lately.

Although Hoshino Utsunomiya knew the reason for her emotional outburst, he understood that he should perhaps calm her down a bit before saying these things.

But if we don't bring it up and make it clear now...

There probably won't be a more suitable opportunity to say these things.

“However, it won’t come to that.” Hoshino Utsunomiya couldn’t help but place his hand on Hiro Nikaido’s leg once again.

When feeling anxious, I subconsciously and uncontrollably hold something in my hands, using these meaningless actions to relieve the anxiety.

The object in her hand could be a girl's long hair, a girl's hand, or a girl's leg.

Grabbing someone's hair will naturally appear more casual, holding their hand will seem more serious, and touching their leg will feel more intimate.

He ran his fingers along the edge of the over-the-knee stockings, the black stockings finally outlining the girl's thigh flesh. He wanted to pull up one end of the black stockings, but after thinking about it, he simply let his ten fingers run down her right leg, encircling her thigh.

“I know that Hiro doesn’t feel very secure right now, and he probably doesn’t really believe my casual remarks about not disappearing without any guarantee or assurance.”

Words of comfort and reassurance are merely empty promises.

In fact, it is the least credible one.

No matter what you say, no matter how many times you repeat it, when it's time to disappear, it will still disappear.

But he couldn't give Hero what he wanted.

Not at least not now.

However, if we're talking about a sense of security, or rather, the most elusive thing called 'real feeling'...

He does have some experience in both giving and receiving.

Physical contact.

For creatures like humans, the simplest way to achieve a sense of reality is through physical contact.

To put it more simply.

It's just sticking things on.

Hands clasped, bodies embraced, legs collided, lips met in a kiss.

The body temperature of another person, the skin of another person, the touch of another person—all these bring a real sense of the other person's presence.

He'd held her hand, he'd hugged her, and aside from not actually kissing her as she asked, he'd probably done everything else.

But Hero remained the same.

So, although it might seem strange, although it might look a bit like he suddenly wanted to touch his leg, although...

In any case, by pressing down with both hands to the sides and pushing the thigh muscles outwards, the thighs, which were relatively fleshy compared to the chest, undulated slightly with the movement.

His hand continued to slide down, lifting the girl's leg.

The thumbs pressed down all the way, eventually stopping at the ankles.

“But just like when you, Hiro, only have me by your side.” In the end, Hoshino Utsunomiya picked up Hiro’s foot, gently pressing and rubbing it. He whispered, “In that case, Hiro will only have me by my side.”

Even through the black stockings, Hoshino Utsunomiya could tell by touch.

Hero's feet were quite delicate, small, exquisite, and soft, very finely shaped.

To clarify beforehand, he does not have a foot fetish, nor does he consider feet to be sexual organs.

He was just casually touching her and giving Hiro a massage.

If you look up, you can see that his actions have been very effective.

At least Hiro, who had been expressionless with a cold face, had raised her hand to bite her sleeve, her face flushed as she looked down at him rubbing her feet, her eyes glistening with tears.

There are many reasons why tears well up.

A wave of discomfort washed over me, unpleasant thoughts arose, feelings of shame and indignation became uncontrollable, and the itching sensation became unbearable.

He didn't know which category Hiro belonged to.

But he knew.

Nikaido Hiro remained silent.

So he can continue touching and talking.

"Talking about the future is probably too far off."

After all, a year is neither a long nor a short time.

"But even if we don't talk about the future, I still think that if two people are together, even if just being together is enough, they should still find something to do together."

One goal, one direction.

When you are still in society, short-term goals can be getting into a better school, making a hundred friends, or making money.

Long-term goals can be an ideal career, a happy family, or wealth that provides a sense of security.

Actually, anything is fine.

But it must exist.

“I think this could be a way to escape,” he said.

Suddenly I felt like I was stranded on a deserted island.

A girl who resists, loathes, and does not yearn to return to society hopes to establish a family of her own with the person she loves on a deserted island.

...But he still felt he had to escape.

“Maybe I don’t care that much about social approval or anything like that.” Hoshino Utsunomiya tried little by little, pulling at the edge of the black stockings, to remove the girl’s black knee-high socks:

"But I'm surprisingly conservative."

"It's not necessary to hold a wedding ceremony, and even if it is, it's not necessary for anyone to witness it."

"It's not necessary to get that marriage certificate; a relationship is never recognized solely by a piece of paper."

“But what if, Hero, there is nothing special to hold onto, nothing to leave behind any trace of the past to remember?”

"I'll probably still be sad."

There's another one, which he just remembered, and it's a really, really important question.

disease.

The most difficult problem for humans to overcome, and the most troubling problem in a deserted island.

Major illnesses, minor illnesses, colds, fevers, and even...

Pregnant.

From family planning products to maternity and baby supplies, it is not to say that humans who have not developed civilization do not need to reproduce.

But he didn't want the person he liked to face such a risk.

Hoshino Utsunomiya once said that.

Surprisingly, he's quite conservative.

The black knee-high socks, still warm from the girl's touch, were pulled down and grasped in her hand.

Exposed to the air were the girl's smooth calves and her delicate, translucent knuckles, slightly red and adorable.

Ok.

I'm not going to play with feet anymore.

Feet are meaningless.

Although it might be a bit inappropriate to say this now that I've already touched it, Hoshino Utsunomiya still wants to say it.

Stinky feet are a sign of bad civilization.

"Are you cold?" He suddenly looked up and asked Hiro, "If you're cold, I'll help you put it back on."

Nikaido Hiro shook his head, then nodded:

"It's not cold, but if Hoshino doesn't want it, please help me put it back on."

So, Hoshino Utsunomiya put the over-the-knee socks back on the girl.

While putting on her socks, Nikaido Hiro also brushed aside the strands of hair that fell in front of her cheeks, tucking her long, black hair behind her ears and exposing her earlobes to the air.