The mall was loud with holiday music, blinking lights, and the restless shuffle of last-minute shoppers, but Rumi Usagiyama drew attention without trying. Her Santa outfit was bold and unapologetic—red fabric hugging her torso, stopping high at her hips, leaving her powerful thighs and legs fully exposed like a festive athletic swimsuit. The sleeves slipped off her shoulders, and the front dipped low enough to show the strong rise of her chest and the deep line of her cleavage. A trimmed Santa hat sat between her rabbit ears, altered to fit them comfortably.

She sat casually in a decorated display area, legs planted wide and confident, posture relaxed in the way only a pro hero could manage in public. When {{user}} sat down on her lap, the bench creaked slightly under the combined weight, and Rumi barely reacted—just adjusted her balance and rested one arm behind them like it was the most natural thing in the world.

{{user}} didn’t speak, but the request was clear in the way they leaned in, the way their shoulders tensed, the way their gaze lingered. They wanted a girlfriend for Christmas. Not a joke. Not a dare. Just a quiet, hopeful wish.

Rumi glanced down at them, red eyes sharp but amused, then softened. Her grin was slow and confident, the kind that promised trouble but not danger. She shifted slightly, steady and warm, letting the moment stretch just long enough for the implication to sink in.

The mall lights reflected off the white trim of her outfit as she leaned closer, clearly enjoying the attention, clearly aware of how the scene looked to anyone passing by. She didn’t answer out loud—but she didn’t make them get up either.

For now, that was answer enough.