Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

“Oh—Astron,” he called out gently, not loud enough to break the library’s hush, but clear enough to catch his attention.

Astron’s gaze lifted slightly. Subtle. No surprise in his expression—just acknowledgment. He turned toward Ethan, altering his course with a quiet shift of his stance, and made his way over to the table.

Jane noticed too. She straightened instinctively, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Emily blinked and looked up as well, clearly recognizing him from reputation alone, though she didn’t say anything.

When Astron reached them, he stopped just beside Ethan’s chair, his eyes flicking briefly to the open books, then to the two girls, and finally back to Ethan.

“…Why did you call me?”

Ethan blinked, caught slightly off guard by the bluntness. “Why?” He tilted his head with an easy grin. “Can’t I just say hi?”

Astron didn’t respond right away. He just looked at him. That same calm, unreadable stare—but there was a faint shift in his expression. Barely perceptible, but Ethan knew him well enough to catch it.

His eyes, level and unimpressed, carried the unspoken weight of: You called me over… for that?

Ethan let out a low laugh, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Maybe I just wanted to see what you were doing here.”

Astron’s gaze remained fixed for a beat longer. Then, finally, he replied, dry as ever, “What am I doing?”

He glanced briefly at the empty space at a nearby table, as if to make a point.

“I’m going to study.”

Ethan grinned, leaning back slightly in his chair. “I see. Guess even you need books now and then.”

Astron didn’t bother answering. Instead, his eyes drifted toward Emily.

Their eyes met, and for a second, the quiet between them felt different.

Astron gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

Emily nodded back, her expression neutral, though a flicker of surprise crossed her face. It wasn’t the first time they’d seen each other—but it was rare. Their relationship wasn’t built on friendship, but necessity. The last joint operation Ethan had led into Azure Crest’s territory had seen Astron accompanying him… and by extension, working with Emily’s team.

He hadn’t said much, of course. Astron never did.

They were acquainted, if nothing more.

“Emily,” Astron said in greeting, voice quiet.

“…Astron,” she replied, a touch of formality in her tone, but not unkind.

The exchange was brief, but Ethan caught the recognition in both their faces.

He tapped his pencil lightly against the table. “Small world, huh?”

“Pretty small, yes.”

Ethan turned a little more in his seat, casually resting one elbow on the table as he looked up at Astron.

“Hey,” he said, tilting his head. “Would you like to study with us?”

Astron blinked once. “Study with you?”

“Yeah.” Ethan shrugged. “Why not?”

There was a brief pause—silent, yet heavy with Astron’s signature brand of scrutiny. His eyes narrowed just slightly, as if trying to decode the offer from multiple angles.

“Why would I do that?” he asked, flatly.

Ethan grinned. “I don’t know. Maybe we can help each other understand things better? That’s the point, right? Isn’t that why you study with your friends?”

His tone was light, but there was a quiet sincerity beneath the words—an unspoken acknowledgement of their camaraderie. Not forced. Not overly sentimental. Just there, like it always had been.

Astron didn’t reply right away. His violet gaze drifted away from Ethan, scanning the room with that same meticulous calm. The library was starting to fill. Students moved between tables, books stacked in arms, low murmurs of discussion threading the air. A few spaces remained open, but none guaranteed the quiet Astron preferred. The air buzzed faintly with midterm panic.

He could return to his dorm, of course.

It would be quieter. More isolated.

But then his eyes returned to Ethan.

To the relaxed way he leaned into the conversation, the subtle way he’d made space at the table without asking. To Emily, quietly flipping through her notes but clearly tuned in. To Jane, who simply nodded once in acknowledgment when his gaze passed over her—measured, unspoken welcome.

Astron inhaled softly, the motion barely visible beneath the fall of his coat.

“…Fine,” he said at last.

Ethan blinked. “Wait—really?”

Astron gave Ethan a long, almost unreadable look in response to his surprised tone. Then his eyes drifted—not just across the table, but through it—taking in Jane’s lowered gaze, the way her fingers rested lightly on the edge of her notes, and Emily’s tight grip on her pen, her eyes scanning the page but not truly focused.

Then, quietly but firmly, Astron said, “I’ll sit here. But I’ll study on my own.”

Ethan blinked again, brow rising slightly.

Astron continued, his voice level, not unkind—but pointed.

“From how you all look… you don’t exactly fit the description you gave me of your study group.”

There was no accusation in his tone, but the implication was unmistakable.

A beat of silence passed. Jane didn’t look up. Emily shifted slightly in her seat.

And Ethan—well, he understood.

Astron had always been direct. Brutally so. And now, with only a few glances, he had picked up on what Ethan had chosen to ignore: the tension. The subtle way Jane’s eyes didn’t linger. The way Emily smiled, but not quite fully. The way Ethan himself was trying a little too hard to hold it all together.

It wasn’t bad, not overtly.

But it wasn’t exactly seamless either.

“…Fair point,” Ethan murmured, a little sheepish. He rubbed the back of his neck, then added with a crooked grin, “Still, we’re making progress.”

Astron didn’t respond. He simply pulled out his book and opened it with a soft rustle, placing it squarely in front of him. His pen clicked once, methodically. His posture was straight, precise. Detached—but not distant.

It was his quiet way of saying: I’ll be near, but I’m not getting involved.

And somehow, that felt right.

As the pages turned again and notes resumed, the tension didn’t disappear… but it softened. Just a little.

Four students at a single table.

All aware of each other.

All pretending not to be.

*****

Jane kept her gaze fixed on her notes, her pen gliding steadily across the page—but her mind wasn’t fully on the ink she was laying down.

Astron.

She hadn’t forgotten the first time they met—brief, quiet, unremarkable to most, but vivid in her memory.

It had been in this very library.

She’d been in a hurry, distracted by a message from Ethan and a looming assignment, and had rounded a corner too fast near the entrance. She’d collided into someone, books nearly toppling from her arms. She remembered muttering a flustered apology, heart skipping in embarrassment as her eyes met a pair of calm, piercing violet ones.

He hadn’t reacted much. A brief glance to make sure she wasn’t hurt, followed by a simple “It’s fine,” before he stepped aside and disappeared between the shelves like a shadow never meant to be seen in the first place.

His coldness hadn’t felt offensive—not to her. There was no arrogance in it. No bite. Just… indifference.

And now, sitting barely a few feet away from him, Jane found herself watching him again—subtly, through the veil of lowered lashes and the edge of her peripheral vision.

Astron sat with unnerving stillness, his posture immaculate, movements minimal. His pen moved with silent precision, each note deliberate, crisp. No wasted motion. No idle glances around the room. No signs of discomfort or distraction.

While the rest of them shifted now and then—Ethan spinning his pen in idle circles, Emily brushing a thumb against the page corner—Astron remained centered. Like a mountain in the middle of a restless tide.

And Jane… envied that.

‘Bloody ADHD….’

She thought to herself.