Honkai Star: Rail x Reader Oneshots

To be known and loved is to be truly seen | Dan Heng, AE!Sunday, Jiaoqiu

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Jiaoqiu x Reader, AE!Sunday x Reader, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Conversations, Gender Identity Exploration, Non-Binary Reader Insert, Acceptance and Support, Soft Relationships, Found Family Themes, Light Angst

Warnings: Discussions of gender dysphoria (brief), Mild emotional distress, Anxiety themes, Supportive yet sensitive handling of identity issues(?), Comfort after emotional vulnerability.

Dan Heng

Dan Heng stood at his post on the Astral Express, his usual calm demeanor betraying no sign of emotion. His fingers lightly gripped the hilt of his spear as his sharp gaze scanned the horizon through the train’s viewport. It was a quiet, tranquil moment—the kind he often sought in the midst of his hectic duties. Yet, there was a quiet tension in his chest, an unease he couldn’t quite place.

It had been several weeks now since he’d first met you, a quiet, introspective soul who had quickly become an integral part of his world. You were always there, by his side, whether he was patrolling, meditating, or simply walking the halls of the train. Dan Heng couldn’t deny the subtle warmth he felt when you were near—something about your presence put his mind at ease. But recently, a subtle shift had occurred. He noticed you fidgeting, speaking less, as though burdened by a weight you refused to share.

“Is something wrong?” he asked one evening when you found yourselves alone in the train’s quiet corridor.

Your gaze flitted to the floor, a hand nervously tugging at the edge of your sleeve. “It’s nothing, Dan Heng. Don’t worry about me.”

He didn’t press further, but something in your voice felt off. There was something you weren’t saying, something that hung between you like an unspoken truth. He had a feeling that it wasn’t nothing at all.

Days passed, and the quiet unease gnawed at him. He’d seen you hide it behind your smiles and soft laughter, but your unease was palpable to him. For all his stoic nature, Dan Heng had always been able to sense when something was wrong—when people around him needed something they weren’t saying. But this? This was different. His mind wandered through the possibilities. Was it something to do with your past? Or perhaps you were frustrated with your role on the Express?

It wasn’t until a late-night conversation in the dimly lit cabin that the truth came to light.

“I—I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while,” you began, your voice almost a whisper. Your hands trembled as you clasped them tightly in your lap, a nervous habit Dan Heng had come to recognize. “It’s just… it’s hard.”

Dan Heng’s expression softened, and he turned toward you fully, his attention fixed entirely on you. “You don’t have to explain everything at once. Take your time.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, the only sound was the soft hum of the train. Finally, you spoke again, your words slow but deliberate. “I’m non-binary. I don’t fit into either the role of a man or a woman, and… I’ve been struggling with how to tell you.”

The words hung in the air, fragile as glass. Dan Heng remained silent for a moment, his gaze searching your face, trying to read the emotions beneath the words. He could see the uncertainty in your eyes, the vulnerability in your posture. Slowly, he reached out, gently placing a hand on yours.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” he said quietly. “You are you. And I am honored to stand by your side, no matter what.”

A quiet relief washed over you, and you looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time. A faint smile tugged at your lips, and Dan Heng felt a warmth fill his chest.