The Bronx definitely isn’t over Juan Soto. And the Mets’ $765 million rightfielder seemed to enjoy every minute of his twisted, rage-filled homecoming in Friday night’s Subway Series opener.

For nearly six months, from the moment Soto defected to the Mets, everyone imagined what this reunion would look like. Sure, the boos were a given. But how loud? Could the decibel levels possibly rival those for the despised Jose Altuve, the pint-size provocateur the Bronx holds personally responsible for the stolen 2017 World Series?

Soto’s response was just as much a subject of curiosity. Would he wilt from the weight of that constant harassment? Never before has such a high-profile Yankee willingly ditched his pinstripes for the orange-and-blue kit across town — and for an extra $5 million, no less — making Soto a modern-day stress test for the pressure this bitter rivalry could unleash.

We didn’t have to wait very long for an answer.

After Francisco Lindor led off the game by grounding out to third base, the boos erupted before Soto could leave the on-deck circle. Moments later, the ferocity of the vocal attack had drowned out his name from being heard over the PA system.

The Bronx boobirds had unleashed everything they had at Soto. But through it all, he calmly walked to the plate, exchanged hellos with Yankees catcher Austin Wells, then paused a moment before digging into the batter’s box. There was something else he needed to do.

Soto took off his helmet and raised it high above his head, saluting the furious fans, making sure no one among the sellout crowd of 47,700 felt ignored.

No one could have seen that coming. It was as bold, as brash a move as any opponent has dared to try in the Bronx, and it signaled that Soto wasn’t returning to cower in his former home (he cooked up the idea beforehand with his new teammates).

“You gotta embrace it,” Soto said after the Mets’ 6-2 loss, which finished with the fans cheering his game-ending flyout off Yankees closer Luke Weaver. “Whatever they give you, it is what it is. You got to be a professional. You got to take it as a man. I was just enjoying the moment.”

Soto, who went 0-for-2 with three walks, figured to be a little nervous about going back to the Bronx hornet’s nest, this time as the player wearing a honeycomb suit. But as Soto moved around Yankee Stadium in enemy colors, he couldn’t have looked more comfortable.

During batting practice — Yankees BP, mind you — Soto stood behind the cage, sharing laughs with his former hitting coaches, James Rowson and Pat Roessler. There were bro hugs with Jazz Chisholm Jr. and a chat with Yankees manager Aaron Boone, and Soto never stopped smiling.

“I’m just happy to see those guys and see them doing well,” Soto said. “They really have a lot of respect for me and I have a lot of respect for them.”

The first signs of a hostile homecoming didn’t surface until about 5:30 p.m., when Soto — shagging fly balls in rightfield during BP — had one kick off his glove. Suddenly, the hundreds of fans camped in the nearby seats, only a few feet away from Soto’s gaffe, exploded in cheers. He didn’t seem to mind, though.

Soto not only endured the negative attention, he savored it. The most inventive display of the evening, however, took place as Soto headed toward his rightfield post for the bottom of the first inning. The entire population of Bleacher Creatures turned their backs on him rather than face their former hero of only a year ago. Just as Soto shunned them after a World Series run together, the Bronx returned the favor.

“I didn’t realize that,” Soto said. “I would just listen to the boos and stuff. I try not to have any eye contact [with fans].”

Said Mets manager Carlos Mendoza: “I thought they were very respectful, and that’s what you want, right? You could boo all you want, but as long as they’re not crossing the line.”

Fortunately, this is a different generation. No longer do batteries, golf balls or even headphones rain down from the upper deck as they once did. The worst Soto apparently had to face was a relentless stream of expletives mixed with a variety of chants from “O-ver-rat-ed!” to “We want Grisham!”

When Soto flipped the baseball to the fans after his warning-track catch to end the eighth, they threw it right back onto the field — a rejection of his goodwill gift.

Not that it seemed to bother Soto any. He walked in each of his first three trips to the plate as Carlos Rodon pitched him carefully. Soto also stole a base in the first inning and later scored the Mets’ first run in a fourth-inning rally that eventually fizzled.

It was hardly the spectacular Soto who finished third in the MVP voting for the Yankees last season, so in that sense, early on, Yankees fans got what they wanted Friday in his highly anticipated return.

Soto didn’t hurt the Yankees, and the jilted fans were able to vent their hurt feelings.

They still can’t accept being outbid by a Mets owner, and they’ll never be OK with a star player taking his talents to Flushing over them.

So consider Friday’s verbal volleys at Soto a form of therapy, with two more sessions scheduled for this weekend — and another 14 years to work through the debris of a short-term fling that is happier (and richer) playing in Queens now.