The next day, Paris awoke in a soft morning glow. Sunlight pierced through the mist, painting the city in a warm golden hue, signaling a clear and beautiful day ahead.
For most students at François Dupont High School, today's mood was one of excitement and novelty. A real battle between a superhero and a supervillain, unfolding before their eyes, was enough to be the hottest topic of conversation for the next month.
However, for the few individuals at the center of this storm, this morning tasted entirely different.
Jaden woke up very early. He stood on the balcony of his simple yet modern apartment, automatically arranged by the world, holding a steaming cup of black coffee.
He overlooked the gradually bustling street below, a subtle, contented smile on his face, like a hunter waiting for his prey to fall into a trap.
The news brought by Max and Nathaniel last night, far from disrupting his plans, acted like a perfect catalyst, filling him with anticipation for today.
Ivan's "love song" would be a grand gift he would present to Mylène.
On the other hand, Ivan had barely slept a wink. His room's wastebasket was already overflowing with crumpled paper balls.
He had heavy dark circles under his eyes, and in his hand, he clutched a piece of paper covered with scrawled lyrics and musical notes—his "masterpiece" created by exhausting all his literary and musical cells.
In the mirror, he looked pale, but his eyes were unusually bright due to nervousness and the false courage stirred up by his friends.
He repeatedly chanted in his mind: "Mylène will like it, she's definitely going to like it..."
Meanwhile, Marinette's mood on the way to school was a tangled mess.
Yesterday, Jaden's gentle yet firm comfort was like a ray of light illuminating her heart, which had been dark with self-blame.
She no longer felt like the culprit and even felt a tiny bit of anticipation for the new day.
But the thought of facing Ivan again at school filled her with an inexplicable tension.
She didn't know what expression to wear when she met him.
Should she thank him for liking her? Or should she feel sympathy for him turning into a monster yesterday?
As she walked through the school gate with her equally spirited Alya, she was immediately enveloped by the buzzing atmosphere of the campus.
"Hey, Alya! Your blog video was awesome! I watched it a dozen times!"
"Alya, is Ladybug really that beautiful?"
"Isn't Cat Noir a bit too frivolous?"
Alya was surrounded by a crowd of classmates, becoming the undisputed star.
Holding her phone, she excitedly recounted yesterday's events, her face beaming with the glow of a professional journalist.
"Quiet everyone! Quiet! For all the latest exclusive analyses and high-definition screenshots, please follow my 'Miraculous Blog'! Continuously updated, never miss a single detail!"
Marinette smiled, watching her friend's spirited demeanor.
She quietly retreated from the crowd, her gaze searching the campus.
Soon, she spotted that familiar figure.
Jaden leaned against a large tree, watching everything before him with a detached expression, as if the fervor surrounding superheroes was a dimension away from him.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a halo around him, giving him an indescribable, tranquil allure.
Just then, Max and Nathaniel approached him, looking worried.
"Jaden, Nathaniel's brows were tightly furrowed, "We... are still very worried. Ivan, he... he's really going to do it."
"Yeah," Max echoed, "I just saw Lino and Kim; they're going around promoting that a 'major event' is happening today, making it sound like a concert announcement."
Jaden looked at the identical worry on their faces, a barely perceptible curve forming at the corner of his lips.
He patted their shoulders and said in a profound, almost Zen-like tone, "Don't worry.
Sometimes, allowing things to follow their destined course leads to the best outcome.
We just need to... be good spectators.
Besides, everything will turn out for the best."
His words left Max and Nathaniel even more bewildered, but seeing Jaden's confident demeanor and his final remark, their anxiety seemed to inexplicably lessen.
Sure enough, before long, the center of the commotion formed.
In the most open space in the center of the school courtyard, Lino and Kim, like two Bodyguards, half-coaxed, half-dragged a pale-faced Ivan to the center.
"Students! Friends! Quiet down, please!" Lino jumped onto a flowerbed, waving his arms like a host, shouting with the rhythmic flair of a rapper, "Today!
Our François Dupont High School will witness a historic moment!
A brave soul will express his sincerest emotions through song!
Let's give a warm round of applause for—Ivan!"
Kim clapped vigorously beside him, even throwing what he thought was a cool wink at Chloé in the crowd, only to receive a disdainful eye-roll in return.
The students were drawn by this sudden spectacle, gathering around, curiously watching Ivan, who didn't know what to do with his hands and feet, in the center of the courtyard.
"What's he going to do? Sing?"
"Oh my god, he looks like he's about to faint."
"Is this some new prank?"
The crowd whispered.
Mylène and her friends were also drawn over.
When Mylène saw Ivan's appearance and heard Lino's words, she immediately understood.
Her face instantly flushed, and she instinctively tried to hide behind Julie.
Ivan spotted Mylène in the crowd at a glance.
He took a deep breath, as if to brace himself.
Then, to everyone's astonishment, he actually... pulled out a somewhat worn-out wooden guitar from behind his back!
"My goodness, he's serious!" Alya excitedly raised her phone and started recording.
Ivan cradled the guitar, his fingers clumsily resting on the strings.
He closed his eyes, building up emotion for a full half-minute, and just as everyone was about to lose patience, he suddenly opened his eyes and, facing Mylène's direction, used all his strength—
"Zheng—!!!"
A sharp, ear-splitting guitar strum, like fingernails scraping glass, instantly pierced everyone's eardrums!
The sound was completely off-key, filled with a teeth-grinding, metallic friction, causing more than half of the people present to wince in pain.
Chloé was the first to shriek: "Ah! My ears! What is this noise attack!"
But this was just the beginning.
Ivan became completely immersed in his own world; he ignored the disastrous accompaniment, opened his mouth, and, with a voice that was a mix of a male duck's quack, a broken bellows, and metallic friction—a veritable wailing ghost—he roared out the lyrics he had been brewing all night:
"Mylène––––––––––––––––––––––!"
That elongated cry, off-key to outer space, was filled with a tragic, unsettling vibrato, as if not calling for a lover, but summoning some ancient evil deity.
"Don't be afraid––––––––––––––––––––––!"
He continued to roar, veins bulging in his neck.
He thought he was being deeply affectionate, but to others, the sound was like a wild cat whose tail had been stepped on, cursing with the last vestiges of its life.
The entire courtyard fell into an eerie, deathly silence at this moment.
Everyone was stunned by this sudden noise, which surpassed the limits of human imagination, their mouths agape, their expressions frozen.
Mylène, at the center of this auditory storm, was the most severely affected.
She trembled with fright, her face instantly turning paler than Ivan's.
That terrible singing was not an expression of love to her at all, but the most direct, most terrifying fright!
She instinctively took two steps back, covering her ears tightly with her hands, her body trembling violently with fear.
However, Ivan's performance continued.
He was completely oblivious to the strangeness around him; instead, he mistook the momentary silence for everyone being captivated by his "talent."
He strummed the strings even harder, emitting a series of even more grating noises, and then, with an even more heart-wrenching tone, as if to tear his vocal cords, he roared out the next line of lyrics:
"Mylène––––––––––––––––––––––!"
"Don't be heart––––––––––––––––––––––less ah ah ah ah ah––––––––––––––––––––––!"
The final "ah" was dragged out in a distorted, breathless long note, full of cracks and gasps, its destructive power comparable to ten fingernails scraping a blackboard simultaneously.
"Enough! Make him stop!"
"Help! My ears are bleeding!"
"Is this the latest form of torture?"
The crowd finally reacted from their petrified state, erupting into an uncontrollable commotion; some were groaning in pain, others were quietly laughing.
Lino and Kim, the instigators, their smiles had long since frozen, replaced by a horrified expression of "we seem to have caused a huge disaster."
Chloé, on the other hand, burst into unbridled laughter: "Hahahahaha! How absurd! This is absolutely the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my life!
Does he think he's a rock star? I think he's a noise tyrant!"
Sabrina, beside her, stifled a laugh and chimed in: "Exactly, exactly, Chloé is right!"
In the midst of this chaos, Mylène's psychological defenses completely collapsed.
She looked at the still roaring, menacing Ivan, and the childhood fears of being dominated by various frights surged into her heart like a tide.
Her eyes were filled with tears, not of emotion, but of pure, physiological terror.
Just then.
A figure quickly moved through the chaotic and noisy crowd.
Everyone's gaze was involuntarily drawn to him.
It was Jaden.
There was no superfluous expression on his face; neither the mockery of Chloé nor the pain or astonishment of others.
He ran to Ivan, who was still "passionately" singing.
He didn't rudely interrupt, but simply reached out and gently placed his hand on Ivan's guitar, which was still emitting its demonic sound.
The guitar sound stopped abruptly.
Ivan's singing also caught in his throat due to this sudden action, and he turned his head blankly to look at Jaden.
Jaden's gaze held no reproach, but rather a strange, understanding calmness.
He spoke to Ivan, his voice not loud, yet clearly reaching everyone's ears around them:
"Ivan."
"Your passion... your feelings..." He paused, then used a brilliant word, "...are too immense."
"I think," he turned his head, his gaze gently falling upon the still trembling Mylène, "perhaps, Mylène... needs a little time to digest your love, which is as fierce as a storm.
Your singing is full of power, but sometimes, too much power can make people afraid."
These words were absolutely flawless.
He didn't say Ivan sang badly; instead, he attributed it to "too immense feelings" and "too much power," instantly ending the auditory disaster while, in an incredible way, preserving Ivan's last, insignificant, tottering shred of dignity.
Ivan was stunned.
He looked at Jaden, then at Mylène in the distance, whose face was pale as if she might faint at any moment, and the fervor in his mind finally cooled down.
He... he messed up.
Jaden paid him no further attention.
His mission had shifted from "stopping the noise" to "hero saving the beauty."
He quickly walked to Mylène, and before the girls could react, he took off his light jacket and gently draped it over Mylène's shoulders, which were cold with fear.
"It's alright now."
His voice was a world apart from Ivan's earlier wailing.
It was a deep, steady voice, full of soothing power, like a warm stream, instantly flowing into Mylène's chaotic heart.
"This isn't your fault." He looked into Mylène's tear-filled eyes and continued softly, "It's my fault; I should have come out to stop it sooner.
You don't need to be afraid, and don't feel any pressure.
He just... used a rather... rather special way to express his thoughts.
Shall we leave here first, okay?"
As he spoke, he very naturally reached out and gently supported Mylène's arm.
His movements were so gentlemanly, so natural, that it was impossible to even think of refusing.
Mylène's brain had completely stopped functioning at this moment; all her senses were enveloped by the warm aura emanating from Jaden and his gentle, steady voice.
Like a drowning person clutching driftwood, she instinctively nodded, allowing Jaden to half-support, half-escort her away from that troubled place.
The surrounding students automatically made way for them.
Everyone watched Jaden's retreating figure with complex gazes, mixed with admiration, awe, and curiosity.
He not only resolved an extremely awkward farce and comforted the two people at the center of the storm, but the entire process... was as elegant as a romantic movie.
"Wow..." Rose and Allie couldn't help but exclaim as they watched the scene.
"He... he's amazing..." Julie whispered to herself, her eyes filled with an unusual sparkle.
Marinette and Alya also witnessed everything.
Alya forgot to record, just gaping and murmuring, "This guy... is definitely not ordinary..."
A more complex emotion surged in Marinette's heart.
She watched Jaden drape his jacket over Mylène, watched him lead Mylène away with such a gentle demeanor, and in her heart, there was actually... a hint of an inexplicable... envy.
Ivan, left behind, was completely petrified.
He watched Jaden and Mylène's receding figures, then looked at the sympathetic, mocking, or disdainful glances of his classmates around him, and finally, he heard Chloé's merciless, courtyard-shattering sneer.
"Hahahahaha! What a huge joke! I dare say this will definitely top our school's list of the most foolish events of the year!
'Immense'? I think 'useless' is more like it! Hahahahaha!"
Humiliation, embarrassment, despair, heartbreak... countless negative emotions, like the fiercest tsunami, instantly engulfed Ivan's sanity.
He felt his heart being brutally crushed, then thrown to the ground and mercilessly trampled underfoot.
He was wrong.
Everyone was wrong.
Lino, Kim, Max... they were all liars! They pushed him into the abyss.
Just then, at the top floor of the Agreste Mansion.
Hawk Moth felt this negative emotion, stronger than yesterday's, and filled with extreme humiliation and heartbreak.
He was so excited he almost trembled.
"Ah... a true heart publicly shattered, then trampled by merciless mockery... What a... what a beautiful despair!"
He elegantly extended his hand, and a pure white butterfly landed on his palm.
Purple-black energy surged wildly into the white butterfly's body.
"Go! Little Akuma Butterfly!" He released his hand, and the Akuma Butterfly, carrying the resentment of revenge, flew like a black lightning bolt towards François Dupont High School, "Go comfort that heart, wounded a second time!
This time, I will grant him true, unrivaled power!
Let him turn all of Paris into his stage of sorrow!"