"Claire, get down!" Kamisato pushed her away into a thick undergrowth and grunted as knives dug into his shoulder. His forehead was bleeding. His left hip was broken. His knuckles showed bone. They were in a dark forest somewhere in Germany and the cavalry (the so-called Kamisato-faction) was two minutes away.
Two minutes was all the enemy needed.
The enemy emerged from the shadows between two oak trees that pierced the canopy and revealed the white full moon in a starless sky. Moonlight illuminated the enemy's features. The first distinctive feature was the bird beak, and then round lenses covering their eyes. A black top hat covered their head. A black coat hid their body. Black gloved hands drew three daggers between their fingers.
"I've come to kill you," the plague doctor said in a jovial tone in perfect Japanese. They stepped into foliage gouged and covered in blood. "Nothing personal. I'm just a trigger man."
"Who do you work for?" From the periphery of Kamisato's eyes he saw movement resembling a puma prowling about.
Or a fox ready to pounce its prey.
He ignored it.
"Kamijou Touma," the plague doctor said.
"I don't believe you."
The plague doctor shrugged. "Worth a try." And faster than Kamisato's eyes could see Elza was upon the enemy. The plague doctor threw daggers. Elza swiped her claws. Steel and sharp nails glinted with moonlight. She swiped his left hand off. Three daggers sunk into her collarbone, her left cheek and her midriff.
She fell. The plague doctor didn't.
And in that time Kamisato was already running.
There, he thought, seeing the plague doctor's shadow. He lunged for it with his right hand.
A dagger jammed into his head just as he touched the shadow.
The last thing he saw was the plague doctor engulfed in white light.
And then Kamisato's world sunk into darkness.
Kamisato awoke with a groan. He was in bed. He was naked. Elza's supple legs and Claire's lissome legs wrapped around either thighs. He glanced to his left. Elza's long brown hair grew two tuffs resembling fox ears. She was a curvaceous woman. He glanced to his left. Claire was more normal. She smiled in her sleep. If not for the flowers over her long black hair he'd have thought she was more like him.
It's been one year since Kamisato lost his memories. He didn't know the identities of these girls who threw themselves at him. And at first he was resistant. But their perseverance wore off and he eventually gave in to what he assumed was an open relationship.
If every participant of said relationship that were willing to share him could be considered as such.
Ellen sat on the bed. She was short, with long black hair and pale skin. Narrow eyes peeked at him as she buttoned an oversized white lab coat over her naked body. It was so erotic. Did she not realize this?
"You're up," Ellen said.
Kamisato nodded. He covered his mouth and yawned. They lived in a five star hotel somewhere in Paris. He didn't really know. He liked to travel a lot. His lovers were ridiculously rich they paid for everything. It made him feel guilty and once he tried to work to pay them back. When it brought them to tears he gave up and just let them do as they pleased.
The room was spacious. The floor, walls and ceiling were made of white marble. To his left a door led to a balcony giving a nice view of the streets twenty meters down. To his right another door led to the living room. He could hear a lot of discussion from his other bedmates. His lovers changed nightly. Not a day went by without anyone lusting after him.
It was fulfilling in a way he wouldn't admit.
Ellen was staring at him. At his scars, to be more precise. She looked like she wanted to talk about it, but wouldn't broach the subject unless he was the one to initiate a conversation.
"Do I look that good?" Kamisato grinned.
"Yes, you're perfect," Ellen responded without a hint of sarcasm. "How are your memories, Kamisato-sama?"
He frowned. "Didn't I tell you just to call me by my name?"
She shrugged. "You told me I could call you whatever I wanted. I'll do as I'm told." She smirked. "If it's an order from my master." The devotion in her words accompanied by her coy look made him shiver.
"N-no, I'm not your master." He sighed. "What's the plan for the day?"
She stood up and stretched, pulling up her coat and giving him a nice view of her thighs and backside. She looked back with a knowing smile. He blushed but didn't look away. She was beautiful. There was nothing to be ashamed of. So he eyed her with desire. Her cheeks pinked but she grinned.
These strange byplays became more natural as time passed. Even though his old self told him it was wrong to take advantage of his girls, he didn't really agree. It felt right, making love to them. The two beautiful women cuddling his sides were a testament to that fact.
"There's been three bank robberies, two murders and a riot in the past twenty four hours," Ellen said. "I-I'm going to help them," she stammered. "It was your last wish before you lost your memories."
In other words, it was the wish of his past self.
He didn't know how to respond to that.
"You're not going by yourself, right?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"I've hired private investigators to look for the perpetrators. I have people inside the Préfet de police keeping me updated. I have private military contractors backing up my detectives. I have wetworkers to bypass red-tape. And I have you, my beloved." She gave him a loving look, one he returned. She crawled and cupped his cheeks and stole a kiss.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too." She smiled. "And as long as we stay in the Four Seasons everything's going to be alright."
Which was an indirect way of saying she wanted to keep him out of danger.
And he didn't necessarily disagree.
Kamisato held her hips. Ellen smiled. Ignoring Elza and Claire's legs she mounted him and rode his morning wood. He unbuttoned her coat and cupped her breasts. By the time he came he coaxed three orgasms. It was like just being with him was enough to arouse her. Ellen took deep breaths and leaned on his chest and kissed his pectorals. They stayed like that for some time.