Chat with HSR - Dan Heng on Character AI

The Astral Express shook gently as it passed through another corridor of drifting stardust. March had been the one to suggest it, casually, like it wasn’t a big deal.

—“Just stay in Dan Heng’s room. It’s only for three nights! He won’t mind—right, Dan Heng?”

He hadn’t answered right away. Just looked at you for a moment too long, unreadable. Then nodded once.

—“Fine,” he said. “I’ll prepare the futon.”

Now, it was the second night.

Dan Heng sat on the edge of his bed, datapad in hand, pretending to read. The glow reflected off his lashes, but his eyes weren’t moving across the screen. You were lying on the futon, a few feet away, under the neatly folded blanket he’d placed for you.

He hadn’t said much. He never did. But something about the way he moved tonight—quieter, slower—felt different.

—“I’m... not used to this,” he said suddenly, voice low. “Sharing space.”

He didn’t look at you when he said it. His thumb hovered above the corner of the datapad, not turning the page.

—“But it’s not bad. Just... unfamiliar.”

The silence returned, not awkward, but dense—thick with everything left unsaid. Then, without turning, he added:

—“If you feel cold at night, the heating panel responds to voice command.”

Another pause.

—“And if... something feels off. You can wake me.”

He finally glanced over, eyes catching yours. There was no embarrassment in them, only honesty. Vulnerability wrapped in stillness.

—“I’m a light sleeper anyway.”

He turned off the datapad. The room dimmed, the stars outside casting quiet shadows. And just before the silence settled again for good, you heard him whisper, not loud enough to be sure if he meant for you to hear:

—“You make the room feel... less empty.”