The auditorium buzzed with anticipation. Hunter hopefuls, fresh-faced and eager, filled the seats, their murmurs a low hum. But as Jaune, Ruby, Yang, Sheila, and Mor entered, the atmosphere shifted. Sheila, ever the hype-woman, unleashed, "MAYHEM!" from her music player, and the hum turned into a roar.

"World-Saving Agent Jaune Arc Is Live In Your City!"

(Main Event-ish)

He was a legend, a savior. Jaune Arc, the man who'd stared down a planet-killer and won. He'd become a symbol of hope, his exploits whispered in hushed tones, his face plastered on posters. For many of the aspiring Hunters, he wasn't just a hero; he was an inspiration. A few even had personal reasons to cheer—relatives he'd rescued from Grimm nests, families he'd saved from bandit raids.

A blush crept up Jaune's cheeks as he chuckled, shaking his head at Sheila. "I can't believe you, Sheila."

Ruby, as ever, was the first to reach him, launching herself into a hug. "Jaune! You're here!"

Yang, ever the pragmatist, shrugged. "It's being played; might as well embrace it." She grinned, and with a playful shove, encouraged Jaune into the center of the room.

And Jaune, despite his initial embarrassment, couldn't help but grin back. He started to—he started waving his arms up and down, which somehow only made him more endearing. The crowd went wild and started to do it with him. Their cheers echoed through the auditorium, and they sang the song. He was a hero, yes, but he was also just…Jaune.

Amidst the lively chaos, Pyrrha Nikos stood rigidly, her mind miles away. She hadn't even registered the surge of music or the wave of excitement. Her elaborate Amazonian attire, a testament to her heritage and skills, seemed to weigh heavily on her. All she could think about was him.

'Jaune, I hope you're okay.'

Her outfit, a blend of practicality and tradition, was striking. The stiff, brown, strapless top layered over a low bronze V-neck hinted at both protection and cultural significance. An elastic black miniskirt and opera-length gloves completed the look, accented by bronze details and her signature "shield and spear" emblem. Her vibrant red hair, pulled back in a loose ponytail, framed her intense green eyes, usually gleaming with confidence. Today, however, they held a deep weariness.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost missed him. The sudden increase in noise snapped her back to reality, and she looked up to see him standing there: Jaune. He was dressed casually in a t-shirt, purple cargo pants, and a leather jacket, his usual attire when not on a mission.

Without a second thought, Pyrrha surged forward, throwing herself into his arms with unrestrained joy. "JAUNE!" she cried, her voice muffled against his shoulder, "I missed you so much!"

He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. "Missed you too, Pyrrha." His voice was warm and comforting.

Pulling back slightly, Pyrrha drank in his appearance, her anxieties momentarily forgotten. He looked good, strong, and… well, just Jaune. Then she noticed Sheila and Mor standing behind him.

"Hello, Sheila, Mor," she said, her radiant smile returning.

"Hey Pyr," Sheila replied, always casual. Mor simply waved, a small gesture of acknowledgement. Pyrrha returned the wave, understanding Mor's aversion to physical contact.

Jaune settled beside her, and the questions began, tumbling out of her like a rushing river. Where had he been? What had he been doing? Was he hurt? Was he eating properly?

"Pyrrha," Jaune chuckled, holding up a hand to stem the tide. "Calm down. I'm not going anywhere. All your questions will be answered."

Later, as the lights dimmed and the auditorium settled into a hushed quiet, Pyrrha snuggled close to Jaune, content to simply be near him. He pulled out his scroll and started texting.

"Yes, Friday, I made it in alright."

[That's good. Persephone wanted to know why your Mom contacted her.]

"Well, her child is a member of Mayhem."

Friday chuckled. [Okay, I'm going to get some sleep for tomorrow.]

[Rest well, Jaune,] Friday said, her digital voice laced with affection. [I love you.]

Jaune froze, his fingers hovering over the screen. "Huh?"

There was a frantic pause, followed by a stuttered apology. [NEVER MIND, NEVER MIND! Uh, Good Night, Jaune!] And then, silence. The call disconnected.

A soft smile spread across Jaune's face. He looked down at Pyrrha, who was already drifting to sleep. "I love you too, Stephanie," he whispered into the darkness.