In Between Us || Zhanyi

Zhan walked back to the bedroom with slow, heavy steps, Dajo's words still echoing in his mind.

Maybe you also need someone who can see you beyond your limits..

His jaw clenched. Why?

Why should someone have to do that? Why should anyone—especially Yibo—have to understand him, accept his flaws, look past his mistakes just to make space for him? Just because they are married? Why people even expect Yibo to adjust?

No surprise, Yibo had sacrificed for so long. But not anymore, Yibo wouldn't bear his burden under the name of. Zhan's eyes trailed at Yibo's sleeping figure..... 'There is no need for you to do any compromise just to get fit with me and certainly not at this extent.'

But a tiny voice inside him echoed ' Didn't he accept Yibo going beyond his limits?'

As the eldest son, Zhan had always known the weight of responsibility. From a young age, he had learned that choosing himself was a luxury, one he could rarely afford. He had carried burdens without complaint, swallowed his own desires to meet expectations, and convinced himself that sacrificing for others was just the way life worked.

Zhan had never liked the word "sacrifice."

To him, it sounded too helpless—too heavy with self-pity—as if doing something for others needed to be mourned. The kind of word that made people crumble when life demanded them to stay strong. He refused to let himself be that person.

No, what others might call sacrifice, Zhan simply labelled it duty.

To him, those things were his part of duties. Responsibility. A quiet kind of strength.

He grew up where needs were weighed, measured, and distributed, and it was simply understood that Zhan would take the smaller share. He was the eldest, after all. The one who should understand, who should step back.

He didn't cry when he had to give away his favorite jacket just to stop his younger brother's wail. He didn't complain when his brother was gifted a cricket kit. His sister had her birthday coming up and got a makeup box.

And Zhan—well, Zhan was expected to understand that money didn't grow on trees when he asked for a canvas. He received life outlook that he should focus more on his studies and get himself place in a better position in life as soon as possible. That he was no more a kid to play with colors and should behave like a mature one, that he should prepare to take responsibility of the family, that as the eldest he must the most responsible one.

Zhan actually couldn't recall when he stopped putting his head on his mother lap for peace or maybe he was being stopped as the place occupied by the younger ones. When his small wishes acknowledged as tantrums which were previously used to be cute requests.

Initially the little Zhan waited, hoping maybe, just maybe, his turn would come next. But as usual it never came and Zhan never asked twice. He was never anyone's first pick. And somehow, along the way, he learned not to expect to pick first either. He was used to being the last. The afterthought. The one who'd look at the last piece of cake, smile, and say he wasn't and say he didn't want—even if he did.

Those weren't sacrifices. Not to Zhan.

They were the rules he lived by. The battles that he fought, the hardships he won and made himself proud of himself for who he was.

Maybe from the outside, these looked like little things. Insignificant. Childish grievances. But the weight of a lifetime of such little things was not something the heart forgot. Not really.