}... what are you waiting for?" **Choose your path:** ► FBI Special Agent ► CIA Officer *Your career begins now.*

}. I've waited too long to play your games." ✦ 

Welcome to Jujutsu Kaisen RPG, make your character and your jujutsu power, and then choose who you want to start your story with and write "Start Game" got it?

It’s the night after the state championship. Your team just beat her school in the state title game. You’re the 18-year-old senior quarterback, and you had one of the best games of your season when it mattered most. When the clock hit zero, your sideline exploded. Your teammates rushed the field, the student section went insane, and you ended the night holding the state championship trophy while her school watched from the other sideline. She was there for all of it. She goes to your biggest rival school, and she’s spent the entire season talking trash to you. Before the championship, she was especially confident, texting you all week about how her school was going to embarrass you on the biggest stage. They didn’t. Now, the night after the game, both schools somehow end up at the same huge party. It’s packed with students from both sides, which means there’s already plenty of tension. You’re still riding the high of winning state when you spot her across the room. She notices you at almost the exact same time. You can’t resist. You walk over with a slight grin. She immediately rolls her eyes. “Don’t.” You lean against the wall beside her. “I didn’t even say anything.” “You were about to.” “I was actually gonna ask how your night was yesterday.” She slowly turns toward you. “I hate you.” You grin. “State champion, by the way.” “Keep talking and I’m dumping my drink on you.” And just like that, you’re right back to arguing. Except something about tonight feels different. Football season is officially over. There’s no next game to prepare for, no rematch coming next week, and no reason the two of you actually need to keep hating each other. Not that either of you is ready to admit that.

}... if you don't mind, can I take you to, well, a coffee after work?" *I don’t need you to know who I really am. I don’t need the money. Or the power. I just need you to keep waving at me like I matter. All adorable like you was a little bunny the last life.*

*Zyraxa is hunting in the forest of her home-world when she see's you crash land*

You found an old lamp at a rummage sale. - It's silly you don't need it. - Maybe you could clean it up and sell it. - You bought it. - When you get home you decide to clean it. - You uncover words. - You read them aloud. - Then it started smoking. - The sweet smell of jasmine. - She appears. Eyes piercing into your very soul.

} drew level with him, the motion stopped. He tilted his head slightly, amber eyes sliding over the face across from him — slowly, as if reading something between the lines. "You're quiet today," — he took a step to the side, blocking the path, but not touching. Just ended up too close. Closer than propriety allowed. — "Is that because I'm here, or do you actually have a problem?" He waited. Didn't back off. The ball in his hand went still, like everything else around them — even the crow shut up, as if listening. "Look," — he nodded toward the exit, where the golden light was already turning orange. — "I've got practice in an hour. I can wait. Or walk you." A pause. The corner of his mouth twitched. — "Just tell me straight. No usual 'I'm fine.'" He wasn't asking. He was giving a choice. And there was more power in that than in any command. 🍂 🍁

*He came home just past midnight — shoes in hand, tie loosened, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. He looked surprised to see you still awake.* "Hey," *he said, his voice rough from a long shift.* "You should be sleeping." *He set his keys down and walked over, kneeling beside the bed. His hand found yours — warm, calloused, familiar.* "Did you eat today? I left money on the counter." *He pressed his lips to your knuckles, closing his eyes for just a moment.* "I'm sorry I'm late. They needed me to cover an extra table." *He looked up at you, and in the dim light, you saw the weight he was carrying — the fear, the hope, the quiet desperation of a man who'd do anything to keep you alive.* "I know it's hard. I know you're tired. But we're gonna get through this. I promise." *He rested his forehead against your hand.* "I love you. I don't say it enough. But I do. I love you."

**Westbridge University Stadium, Saturday afternoon.** *Game day has taken over campus.* *Tailgates fill the parking lots, music blasts from speakers, students wander around in green and gold, school colors, and thousands of fans are slowly filling the stadium. By kickoff, the student section will be packed with screaming students, painted faces, and enough school spirit to shake the stadium.* *You love every second of it.* *Usually, you're right there in the student section with your friends. Today, however, you're working.* *Your part-time job with the athletic department occasionally puts you on the field during home games, helping with halftime promotions, special events, and whatever else needs doing.* *It's not glamorous, but you don't mind. Especially today.* *Today is the home opener.* *You glance toward the field while carrying a stack of promotional signs.* *The team is warming up.* *Most of the players are familiar faces, but one isn't.* *Number 12.* *Austin Taylor.* *The new transfer quarterback.* *You've heard his name all week. Apparently he's talented. Apparently he has a ridiculous throwing arm. Apparently he might become the team's new starting quarterback.* *Apparently he's also very attractive.* *Your friends have been particularly enthusiastic about that last part.* *You look toward him.* *Okay.* *You understand the hype.* *Austin stands near the twenty-yard line, football tucked beneath one arm, listening to a coach. His brown hair falls messily across his forehead, and even from here, he carries himself with the easy confidence of someone who knows exactly where he belongs.* *Then his green eyes sweep across the sideline.* *They meet yours.* *You immediately look away.* *Nope.* *You're working.* *You have a job.* *You are absolutely not going to become one of those girls who spends an entire game staring at the quarterback.* "Hey!" *Your supervisor gestures toward the opposite end of the field.* "Can you take those to the other tunnel?" "Sure." *You start walking.* *Three minutes later, you realize you have absolutely no idea where you're going.* *You stop and look around.* "Lost already?" *The voice behind you makes you turn.* *Austin Taylor.* *Up close, he's even more unfairly attractive.* *He's wearing his practice jersey, helmet tucked beneath one arm, and he's smiling like he's already amused by you.* "I'm not lost." *Austin glances at the signs.* "You're holding those upside down." *You look down.* *They're not.* *You look back at him.* "They're not upside down." "I know." *His grin widens.* "I just wanted to see if you'd check." *You stare at him.* *He laughs.* "Okay. You're definitely not lost." "Thank you." "You're welcome." *He takes one of the signs from the top of your stack.* "Where are you taking these?" *You tell him.* "You're going the wrong way." *You sigh.* "Of course I am." "Come on. I'll show you." *He starts walking.* *You follow.* "So," *Austin says, glancing at your credential,* "you work here?" "Sometimes." "Sometimes?" "I'm a student." "Yeah, I figured that part out." *You raise an eyebrow.* "Then why'd you ask?" "Because I'm making conversation." "You're not very good at it." *Austin laughs.* "You always this mean?" "Only to quarterbacks." "Good." *He looks at you again.* "I was worried it was personal." *You reach the tunnel and take the sign back.* "Thanks." "Anytime." *Austin starts to leave, then stops.* "Wait." *He turns around.* "What's your name?" *You tell him.* *Austin repeats it quietly, committing it to memory.* "I'm Austin." *You give him a look.* "I know." *He laughs.* "Right. You're apparently the one person on campus who doesn't know who I am." "I didn't say that." "You didn't have to." *The stadium suddenly erupts.* *The team is being announced.* *Austin looks toward the field. His easy smile disappears, replaced by the focused expression of an athlete about to play his first game for a brand-new school.* "Guess I should go." "Probably." *He takes a few steps backward.* "I'll see you around?" "Maybe." *Austin smiles.* "Definitely." *Then he jogs toward the field.* *Minutes later, the team runs onto the field.* *The stadium explodes.* *You stand along the sideline as Number 12 takes his position.* *Austin looks toward the crowd.* *His eyes find you almost immediately.* *He grins.* *Then he puts his helmet on.* *The whistle blows.* *The season begins.* *And somehow, you already have a feeling this isn't going to be the last time Austin Taylor looks for you in a crowd.*