My National Boyfriend

Y/n continues…

"You know what… I have similar nightmares too."

Her voice was soft. Almost too quiet.

Rabin looked at her. Surprised, but listening.

"Do you… want to hear mine?"

He nodded, wordlessly.

She sat beside him on the couch. Her hands folded together tightly. Her breath wavered.

Then she began.

⸻

FLASHBACK — Y/n's POV

That day…

It was a little late when I was coming back from school.

I had detention. I don't even remember what for now—probably something silly.

But if only I had left earlier…

I took the shortcut—through that alley.

It was already getting dark.

At first, I just heard footsteps.

Then laughter.

Low, mocking.

Then… I was surrounded.

A group of guys. Probably older than me.

They started talking, joking—flirting, they called it.

But it wasn't funny. It wasn't innocent.

I tried to walk away. But before I could—

Someone grabbed my face. Tight. Rough.

His fingers dug into my cheeks.

I could smell alcohol. Cigarettes.

I screamed and pushed, kicked—but they were too strong. Too many.

I fought. I tried.

But my limbs… felt like paper against them.

One of them pulled on my hoodie, unzipping it halfway—

But I clung to it with everything I had.

Guy 1 sneered, "So… you're gonna play tough with us?"

Guy 2 scoffed, "This one's annoying already."

My hands were shaking, but my mind screamed move.

I didn't think—

I kicked one of them. Hard. Right where it hurt.

He howled in pain, stumbling back.

Then another voice growled, colder.

Guy 3 — "You think you're strong enough to fight us?"

SLAP.

My face whipped to the side.

The sting exploded across my cheek. My ears rang.

The world spun for a second.

I don't know what hurt more—the slap or the helplessness that followed.

I dropped to the ground.

Still clutching my hoodie.

Still trying to not cry.

screamed.

I screamed so loud my voice cracked—

But no one came.

My knees gave in, my arms weak. I dropped to the ground.

And then—One of them leaned over me..

hovering ..His shadow blocking what little light was left in the alley.

I turned my face away—disgusted—terrified.

But then— another slap.

Harder.

Worse.

A warm, bitter taste filled my mouth—

Blood.

My ears rang. My vision blurred.

But even in that moment—

I held onto the zipper of my hoodie with everything I had.

As if it was the last thing keeping me me.

My mind became blurry.

Everything spun. My heart thudded like it was going to burst.

Sweat soaked through my shirt, my limbs numb—

I couldn't scream anymore. I couldn't even cry.

My eyes fluttered… heavy…

And then—

Darkness.

But I opened them again, only for a second.

And this time—

Another guy was hovering over me.

His face—

It was the only thing clear in my spinning world, caught in the flickering glow of the streetlight above.

Sharp eyes.

Jaw clenched.

I closed my eyes again, surrendering to whatever was coming.

I thought— this is how I die.

Then—

Something heavy landed on my chest—

A weight.

A body? A fall?

I heard voices.

Yelling.

A name—

"Rabin!" 

Back to Present – Y/n's POV

I blinked slowly, tears quietly trailing the corner of my eyes.

Y/n (whispering):

"That's the name I remembered…

The one I never forgot…

Even when I didn't know whose face it was."

She turned to look at him.

His eyes wide.

Face pale.

It felt like the air had left the room.

The puzzle pieces that haunted my dreams—

The alley, the girl, the fear, the helplessness—

It all fit.

My breath caught…I was there…

Rabin's POV

"What?? Me?? Four years back?!"

The words hit me like a punch in the chest. My heart dropped.

I stared at her, eyes wide, throat tightening.

The memories—

They weren't just dreams.

They were real.

"I… I remember now."

My voice cracked, almost a whisper.

The alley.

The chaos.

The girl crying out.

That night I wandered off, angry after a fight with a senior trainee.

I heard something—saw shadows—and without thinking, I fought those guys off.

I looked at her—

Tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Y/n…"

"Rabin…" her voice trembled, pain shaking every syllable, "I really hate you…"

She broke down again, choking on her tears.

"Why did you do that to me?!"

Her cry shattered me.

I felt it—physically.

"Y/n… you misunderstood me," I said, my voice almost breaking.

She stared at me, her body still trembling, tears leaving faint streaks on her flushed cheeks.

Y/n: "What's there to misunderstand?! You guys ganged up on me!"

Her voice cracked with the weight of the memory, her pain slicing straight through me.

I quickly shook my head.

"No… no, I wasn't part of them—I swear. I wasn't with them…"

I stepped closer, but she flinched.

That stopped me cold.

Y/n: "Then why were you hovering above me?! Huh?! Why did I see your face as the last one before I blacked out?"

She was yelling now, her voice shaking.

And I knew why.

She remembered me as the monster.

My heart thudded painfully.

"I… I came after hearing the noise," I said slowly, not moving closer. "I didn't know what was happening until I saw you—on the ground—bruised and bloodied. I—I lost it. I fought them off."

Her brows furrowed. Confused. Torn.

"Y/N, I have to show you something."

Rabin's voice was low—urgent—but not angry. His hand gripped her wrist, firm but not hurting. Before she could even respond, he pulled her out of the house.

"Rabin—hey! Let go!" she said, struggling a bit, but his hand only tightened.

He didn't speak.

He opened the car door and gently pushed her down onto the passenger seat, then closed it before she could protest more. Her brows furrowed in frustration, her heart pounding. What the hell was going on?

She watched him get into the driver's seat, his jaw clenched, eyes fixed ahead.

Y/N: "Where are we going?!"

Rabin (coldly): "Home."

"Home? What do you mean? Your home is in the city," she scoffed, folding her arms.

Rabin didn't answer. His eyes flicked to the road as he started the car, pulling out fast, the tires crunching over the small town dirt path.

"Rabin—stop the car if you're not going to tell me!" she raised her voice.

"I will show you," he said, glancing at her just once—his eyes filled with something unreadable. "And when I do, you'll finally understand everything."

Rabin starts the engine with a sharp turn of the key, the tires screeching as he pulls out of the quiet lane.

The headlights slice through the still night, illuminating the deserted road ahead.

It's already late—close to midnight.

The world outside the car is painted in darkness, shadows cast by streetlamps rushing past like memories trying to catch up.

Y/N sat stiffly, arms crossed, eyes flickering to him and then to the road.

She didn't understand. She wanted to. But right now, she only felt lost, confused, and angry.

Y/N: "Can you please slow down?"

Rabin's voice was calm, but distant.

"I will. Just not yet."

Silence sat between them for several minutes, heavier than the night itself.

The road they took wasn't the usual one—it curved deeper into the outskirts of the town, then further out, past the rice fields and scattered houses.

After hours of driving in near silence, the tires finally come to a halt in front of an upscale apartment building in the city. The clock read 2:14 AM.

Rabin scanned the surroundings carefully.

Empty sidewalks. No flashes. No whispers.

No paparazzi.

Still, out of habit, he pulled his hoodie up and fixed his mask tight over his face.

He glanced at Y/N.

Rabin: "Come."

She hesitated but followed him out.

The night air was cool, a soft breeze brushing past them as they crossed the parking lot.

They took the stairs—five floors up.

Y/N could hear her own footsteps echoing behind his, her heart racing though she didn't know why.

Finally, he stopped in front of a black door with a silver handle.

Apartment 508.

He unlocked it, pushed it open, and let her in first.

he grabbed her wrist again—not roughly, but with urgency—and led her straight down the short hallway.

Y/N: "Rabin…? Where are we going?"

He didn't reply. His grip tightened just slightly as he reached the end of the hallway.

 Y/N knew this door.

It was the one he told her not to be curious about.

The room she was never allowed to enter.

The room he once jokingly called "off-limits even to ghosts."

Her feet slowed.

Y/N: "…That room?"

Rabin paused in front of it, one hand on the doorknob.

He looked back at her. His voice low, hoarse.

Rabin: "Yeah. That room."

He turned the knob.

The door creaked open—revealing a dimly lit room filled with scrapbooks, photographs, old stage props, and in the corner, a wall covered in sticky notes 

The room wasn't messy, but it was full. Full of everything Rabin never shared with the world.

Memories. Regrets. Scars.

Y/N froze.

Rabin turned to her.

Rabin:

"This is why I couldn't rest.

This is why that nightmare never left my dreams.

Because even when I tried to move on… this room kept pulling me back."

In the middle of the memory-laden room stood a canvas, tall and hidden beneath a white cloth.

Dust clung faintly to the fabric, as though it had been untouched for a while—but not forgotten.

Without saying a word, Rabin walked over and pulled the cloth down in one fluid motion.

The cloth crumpled to the floor.

Y/N's eyes followed it briefly, until her gaze lifted to the canvas—

And she froze.

Her breath hitched.

Her knees weakened just slightly.

It was her.

Y/N stood frozen, her breath uneven, eyes locked on the painting.

There she was—lying on the cold, grimy street, her white hoodie dirtied and ripped, her hair stuck to her skin with sweat, blood trickling from the corner of her lips.

It was her.

It was the exact same moment.

But the face was blank.

A smudge of shadows.

No eyes, no mouth—just a haunting absence.

Like a memory too painful to hold clearly.

She couldn't look away.

Rabin's voice, soft and raw, sliced through the silence behind her.

Rabin:

"I painted this… because this girl haunted me for three years.

Every night.

Same street, same breathless panic… same silence."

He took a shaky breath.

Rabin:

"But I never saw her face clearly.

No matter how hard I tried, it was always blank.

And that scared me more than the nightmare itself."

Y/N stayed quiet. Her arms were stiff, heart racing.

He stepped closer, eyes never leaving the painting.

He swallowed hard, his voice breaking slightly.

Rabin:

"And suddenly… the face in my dreams started to clear.

It was you.

It's always been you."

A tear rolled down Y/N's cheek, but she didn't wipe it away.

Rabin (his voice trembling, eyes still on the painting):

"Now I remember everything…"

He turns to face her—his expression raw, pained, as if he's just unlocked a door that had been rusted shut for years.

Rabin:

"I was a trainee at that time.

We were here to shoot a segment for a TV show. That day… I fought with one of the seniors—badly.

I stormed out of the hotel. Didn't care where I was going. I just… walked."

His hands curl into fists, remembering.

Rabin:

"I didn't even realise how far I'd gone until I found myself in that alley.

That same alley."

He looks at her now. Really looks.

Rabin:

"And I saw you.

You were surrounded.

Helpless.

Your hoodie was half torn, your face bruised—"

His voice breaks for a second, but he forces himself to continue.

Rabin:

"I didn't think. I just ran in.

It was one against three. But I fought anyway.

I don't remember how many punches I threw… or how many I got. 

Rabin:

"I tried to wake you up… you were unconscious. I panicked."

"I tried to wake you up… you were unconscious. I panicked."

He swallows hard, the next words heavier than anything he's said before.

Rabin:

"But before I could do anything else…

One of them—those bastards—hit me at the back of my head. I collapsed… right above you."

He slowly brings his hand to the side of his head, as if still feeling the phantom pain from that night.

Rabin:

"I remember the weight of my body falling on you…

Then everything went blurry. But before I blacked out, I heard a voice…

One of our crew members. He shouted my name.

Then I saw a few of them running toward me."

He takes a breath, almost afraid to look up, but forces himself to.

Rabin:

"When our team showed up, those guys—those animals—ran.

And me?

I was unconscious before I could even explain anything.

When I woke up in the hotel room… the agency was already covering everything up. They told me it was a street accident and that no one could ever know.

I didn't even remember the details… until now."

He steps closer, eyes desperate.

Rabin:

"Y/N, you weren't wrong to hate me.

But you were wrong about one thing."

He gently places a hand over his heart.

Rabin:

"I wasn't the monster that night.

I tried to save you."

Silence hangs between them.

The kind of silence that screams louder than any fight ever could.

She didn't speak a word.

Her lips slightly parted, her breath shallow.

But her eyes — they didn't waver.

Locked with his, frozen in time.

Those eyes that once saw him as the villain… were now shaking at the truth.

Rabin's voice was softer now, almost broken.

He took a step back, not wanting to overwhelm her anymore.

Rabin:

"…Anyway…"

He forced a bitter smile, one that didn't reach his tired eyes.

"I'm sorry."

He bowed his head slightly.

"I'm so sorry that I became the shadow in your nightmares…

For four years…

Restless… haunting…

It was never supposed to be like that."

A silence stretched between them like a scar too deep to mend in seconds.

Y/N's fists clenched at her side, her heart pounding in her ears.

Because now…

She wasn't sure if she should cry for herself…

Or for him.

The air between them still hung heavy—

Not with anger anymore, but with the weight of truths finally unearthed.

They stepped out of the room slowly, quietly, like stepping out of a grave.

Both settled down on the couch in the living room.

The silence was no longer sharp… just solemn.

Breaths exchanged, glances avoided.

The clock ticked toward 3:30 a.m.

Then—

Rabin's stomach betrayed him.

A low growl echoed in the stillness.

Y/N turned to him with a blink.

No words.

Just a small exhale—like a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Then, without saying anything,

She stood up and walked toward the kitchen.

Rabin didn't stop her.

He just followed her with his eyes—

The same eyes that had seen her without knowing it for years.

After a few minutes, the aroma of warm spices drifted through the air.

She returned—quietly, like always—holding a steaming bowl of ramyeon.

Without a word, she placed it in front of him on the low table.

Rabin: (softly)

"Where's yours?"

Y/N: (sitting down beside him but not too close)

"I'm not hungry."

Rabin: (pouting slightly)

"Let's eat together."

Y/N: (shaking her head)

"It's okay."

Rabin: (leaning closer, teasing tone creeping in)

"Not fair… you get to serve trauma and noodles, and I'm left alone with both?"

She gave him a dry glance, lips twitching—almost smiling.

Y/N:

"You're unbelievable."

Rabin:

"Then believe this—if you don't eat, I won't either."

He picked up the chopsticks dramatically and… paused.

She stared at him for a moment… then sighed, standing up again.

A minute later, she returned with a second bowl—this one for her.

Rabin: (grinning like a kid)

"See? Now it's fair."

And just like that, between the quiet clinks of chopsticks and steam rising between them,

the weight in the room lessened… just a little.

After finishing the midnight snack, the bowls now empty and warmth lingering in their fingers, they both leaned back slightly on the couch—full, tired, but somehow… at ease.

Rabin glanced at her, hesitant but still playful.

Rabin:

"Shall we go back to the town now?"

Y/N: (not even looking at him, eyes half-closed)

"No… Let's just stay over."

Rabin: (blinking)

"Huh?"

Y/N: (exhaling deeply)

"I'm tired… And it's almost 4 AM. If you wanna go, suit yourself."

Rabin raised an eyebrow, watching her settle stubbornly onto the couch.

Rabin:

"The blankets are in my wardrobe, Y/N. You can take them and sleep in my room."

Y/N: (adjusting a cushion, already making herself comfortable)

"I can sleep on the couch. It's not my first time sleeping here, remember?"

He stared at her for a second, lips parting like he wanted to argue… but then, he just sighed.

Rabin:

"Stubborn as always."

He ran a hand through his hair and turned away toward his bedroom.

A few moments passed.

Y/N laid there, eyes open in the dim glow of the living room. The moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, bathing the space in a quiet silver.

She whispered softly to herself,

"Why does it feel… different now?"

Meanwhile, in the room, Rabin stood in front of the wardrobe, but didn't pull the blankets out. He was lost in thought, her voice from earlier echoing in his ears.

"Rabin… I really hate you."

His hand clenched slightly—but he didn't feel the pain of those words anymore. He felt her tears. Her fear. Her past.

And somehow, all he wanted to do now… was protect her from it all.