I’LL WAIT FOR YOUR LOVE. ( MURATA FUMA )
year by year, moment by moment, growing up with fuma has led to the love you’ve been waiting for all along
❝ ( アンドチーム ) . murata fuma x fem!reader | 2,727 words. | fluff, kissing, lovesick fuma, bestfriend!fuma
THE FIRST TIME YOU MEET MURATA FUMA,
you’re both eight years old, and it’s the last day of second grade—it’s one of those annoyingly hot afternoons where the sun is brighter than ever, stretching shadows across the playground.
you’re sitting on the swings, your feet barely brushing the sand, when you notice a boy standing nearby, hesitating, as if unsure whether to approach.
he’s holding a miniature pokémon figure in his hands, a mini squirtle slightly chipped, and he’s staring at it with a furrowed brow.
he finally looks up and meets your gaze, and there’s something curious and open in his eyes.
“hi,” he says, his voice nervous but steady. “i’m fuma.”
you tilt your head, watching him, and he gestures to the empty swing beside you. “can i sit?”
you nod, and he sits down, gripping the rusty chains of the swing and kicking his feet off the ground in a way that feels awkward, like he’s too big for it already.
for a while, the two of you just sit, listening to the squeak of the swings and the lively chatter of the kids around you.
“i like the swings,” he finally says, his voice quiet. “it feels like i’m flying, like superman.”
you smile, feeling an instant connection to this boy with his shy smile and big dreams. “me too, but batman’s better than superman.”
from that day on, fuma becomes a constant in your life.
every day after school, he finds you on the playground, and together, you make up games, share secrets, and talk about everything from your favorite snacks to the names you’d give your future pets.
he tells you he wants to be a singer someday, his face lighting up with excitement, and you tell him that you think he’ll be amazing at it.
MIDDLE SCHOOL ARRIVES, BRINGING A LOAD OF CHANGE.
fuma’s taken up basketball.
you notice the way people seem to watch him now, like he’s someone worth paying attention to.
but even though he’s growing into himself, becoming the kind of boy who can light up a room, he’s still your best friend.
one autumn afternoon, the two of you are sitting on the grass behind the school, sharing snacks after practice.
the leaves are a vibrant mix of orange and red around you, and the air is crisp, the kind that makes you feel alive.
as you talk, he reaches over and plucks a small wildflower growing in the grass, examining it with a thoughtful expression—without a word, he hands it to you, his cheeks turning pink.
“it reminded me of you,” he says, a little shyly. “small but… strong.”
you take the flower, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest that you can’t quite place your finger on.
you press it between the pages of your notebook that night, letting it dry as a quiet reminder of that moment, a memory of a shift between you, unspoken but deeply felt.
BY HIGH SCHOOL, FUMA IS SOMEONE EVERYONE NOTICES.
suddenly, fuma is taller, and his voice has deepened.
he’s joined the basketball team and fills out his uniform in a way that turns heads—girls pass him notes in class, and he’s always surrounded by people who want to be near him, to bask in his warmth.
but even with all the attention, he never changes around you.
he’s still the boy who waits for you outside your classroom, who finds you in the crowded hallways with an easy smile.
one friday night, his basketball team throws a party to celebrate their first win, and he convinces you to go with him. not because he’s the type to party, because trust him, he’d rather be doing anything but—the house is filled with people, the music loud and the lights dim.
you feel a little out of place, but fuma stays by your side, his arm slung over your shoulder as he introduces you to his teammates, laughing and making sure you’re comfortable.
at some point, the noise becomes too much, and you slip outside for a moment to catch your breath.
you’re leaning against the porch railing, looking up at the stars, when you hear footsteps behind you.
“hey,” fuma’s voice is soft, and he’s smiling as he joins you, leaning beside you on the railing. “you okay?”
you nod, grateful for the quiet moment away from the crowd. “just needed some air.”
he watches you, his gaze warm. “thanks for coming with me. i know parties aren’t really your thing but i didn’t want to go without you.”
his words make you feel seen in a way that goes deeper than friendship, and you wonder if he can hear your heart pounding in the stillness.
for a moment, you’re both quiet, the night stretching around you, and you feel a longing settle deep in your chest. a quiet, insistent feeling that you’re almost afraid to acknowledge.
SENIOR YEAR IS A BITTERSWEET TIME.
the two of you are talking about colleges, dreams, and the future. you’ve applied to different universities, and the thought of not seeing fuma every day makes your heart ache.
one afternoon, you’re sitting in the school gym, watching as he practices with the basketball team.
he’s focused, his movements graceful and sure, and you find yourself lost in the sight of him. when practice ends, he jogs over, grinning, his hair damp with sweat.
“thanks for waiting,” he says, a little breathless, he tosses his towel over his shoulder, his smile softening as he looks at you.
“can we go somewhere?” he asks after a moment, his voice quiet.
there’s a vulnerability in his gaze that you rarely see, and you nod, letting him lead you outside.
you end up at the park, the same one where you met years ago.
sitting on the swings, just like you did when you were kids, there’s a feeling of nostalgia between you, a sense that something is ending.
“i’m going to miss this,” he murmurs, his voice soft. he looks at you, his eyes reflecting the sadness in your own.
for a moment, you feel a surge of courage, the desire to tell him everything that’s been building in your heart over the years.
but the words catch in your throat, and instead, you reach over, slipping your hand into his.
UNIVERSITY IS A STRANGE AND LONELY PLACE WITHOUT FUMA.
you both try to stay in touch, texting and calling when you can, but the distance is hard, the busy schedules and new friendships creating gaps that you can’t always bridge.
but you still make time for each other, clinging to the friendship that has been your constant for so long.
one weekend, he comes to visit you. the moment you see him standing outside your dorm, that familiar, warm smile lighting up his face, it feels like coming home.
you spend the day exploring the city, eating at food stalls, wandering through bookstores, laughing and talking like no time has passed at all.
that night, you’re lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling in the dark.
fuma is beside you, his breathing steady and soft—you can feel the warmth of his body, the comfort of his presence, and you wonder if he knows how much he means to you.
in the quiet darkness, he reaches over, his hand finding yours. “you’re still my favorite person,” he whispers, his voice carrying a vulnerability that makes your heart ache.
you squeeze his hand, the words catching in your throat. “you’re mine too, fuma.”
you’re both navigating the chaos of post-college life, juggling work, bills, and responsibilities.
fuma’s career is taking off, his life filled with new challenges, new dreams.
and though your paths have diverged, you still find time for each other, the bond between you as strong as ever.
one evening, he shows up at your apartment, looking exhausted and worn, the weight of his schedule pressing heavily on his shoulders.
without a word, you pull him inside, letting him sink onto the couch.
you make him tea, sitting beside him as he sips it slowly, his eyes closed in relief. “thanks for this,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “i just… needed a break.”
you reach over, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “you don’t have to do everything alone, fuma. i’m here.”
his eyes open, meeting yours, and there’s something deep and raw in his gaze, a quiet acknowledgment of everything you’ve shared over the years.
he reaches for your hand, holding it tightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that feels intimate, grounding.
“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.
and in that moment, you know that no matter where life takes you, he’ll always be a part of your story.
you’re both a little older, a little wiser, but still tethered by that bond that has carried you through every stage of life.
you’ve shared dreams, heartaches, and countless memories, and through it all, your feelings for fuma have only grown, a quiet love that’s been there all along.
one summer evening, you’re at his apartment, cooking dinner together.
the kitchen is a mess, there’s sauce spilled on the counter, the scent of garlic filling the air.
you’re laughing, both of you a little tipsy, the warmth of the wine making you feel bold.
as you sit down to eat, fuma looks at you, his expression serious, his gaze soft and steady.
“there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you, i’ve been putting it off for about a decade though,” he says jokingly, but you could hear the weight behind his words.
your heart skips a beat, and you meet his gaze, feeling the seriousness of the mood.
“i’ve… i have been in love with you for a long time,” he confesses, his voice trembling anxiously. “i didn’t know how to tell you, or even if i should. but i can’t keep it to myself anymore.”
tears fill your eyes as you reach for his hand, your fingers entwining. “i’ve been waiting for you to say that for so so long,” you whisper, your voice heavy with emotion. “i love you too, fuma.”
in that moment, every doubt, every fear melts away, leaving only the truth that’s been there all along—he’s the love you’ve been waiting for.
and as he pulls you into his arms, holding you close, you know that you’ve finally made it where you were always meant to be.
NOW TWENTY-SEVEN AND ALMOST TWENTY-EIGHT, LYING BESIDE FUMA IN THE EARLY MORNING LIGHT,
you feel the quiet peace that comes from being right where you’re meant to be.
the sunlight filters softly through the blinds, gentle rays fill the room and paints fuma’s face in warm, golden light.
his arm is draped over your waist, and you can feel his slow, steady breathing, his warmth seeping into you as he stirs slightly, eyes fluttering open.
he blinks, looking at you with a sleepy smile, the kind that’s just for you, a little private thing that makes your heart swell.
his hair is tousled, his face soft with sleep, and you can’t help but reach up, brushing a strand away from his forehead.
“morning,” he murmurs, his voice thick and a little raspy, but filled with a tenderness that makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world.
“morning,” you reply, your voice just as soft.
for a moment, you both lie there in comfortable silence, simply watching each other, basking in the warmth of the morning and the quiet intimacy that fills the room.
fuma lifts his hand, gently running his thumb over your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours.
“what’s on your mind?” he asks quietly, a faint smile playing on his lips.
you smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you, a joy that’s almost too big for words. “you,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks heat up, even after all these years of knowing him.
his smile widens, a small chuckle escaping as he leans closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss that feels like a promise.
he pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes shining with that familiar, deep affection that has only grown with time.
“i really like that answer,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle murmur that echoes the countless quiet moments you’ve shared over the years.
as you lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you think of everything you’ve been through, every stage of life you’ve faced side by side.
from playgrounds to high school hallways, from late-night calls in college to quiet evenings in the kitchen, your lives have been woven together in a bundle of shared moments, small joys, and unspoken promises.
fuma sighs, a contented, happy sound as he pulls you closer, his hand trailing up and down your back in a slow, comforting rhythm.
“i don’t think i ever told you this,” he says, his voice a quiet murmur. “but there was always something about you… from the very beginning. even as kids, i knew that you were going to be someone special to me. someone i couldn’t live without.”
you smile, feeling a lump form in your throat as his words sink in. you reach up, cupping his cheek, brushing your thumb along his jawline.
“i think i always knew, too,” you say softly. “you’ve been my best friend, my constant… and now my love.”
a warmth blooms between you, filling the room with a quiet kind of joy that feels both old and new, a love that’s grown through years of friendship and shared memories.
fuma presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as he whispers, “thank you for waiting for me. for always being there.”
you close your eyes, leaning into his touch, your heart swelling with a happiness that feels almost overwhelming.
“you were worth the wait, fuma,” you murmur, feeling the truth of those words settle around you like a warm blanket.
the two of you stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, letting the quiet morning stretch around you.
it’s a moment that feels suspended in time, a snapshot of a love that’s been years in the making, built on a foundation of trust and friendship.
eventually, you both shift, moving closer. your gaze is soft as you studied his face.
“what do you say we make breakfast?” you suggest, a mischievous smile on your lips.
he laughs, feeling a rush of warmth at the familiar suggestion. “as long as you don’t burn the food this time,” fuma teased, squeezing your side.
you grin, sitting up and pulling him with you. “no promises,” you say and his laughter fills the room as he pulls you out of bed and leads you to the kitchen, your hands still intertwined.
as you sit down together, sharing a simple breakfast, you realize that this—these quiet, everyday moments—are the ones you’ll cherish the most.
because after all the years of waiting, all the moments of longing and uncertainty, you’ve finally found your way to each other after all your years of knowing him.
fuma reaches across the table, his hand finding yours, his fingers warm and steady around yours.
he looks at you, his eyes filled with a quiet, enduring love that speaks of all the years you’ve shared, all the small moments that have led you here.
and in that moment, with his hand in yours and his smile lighting up the room, you know that every second of waiting was worth it.
every second of waiting for his love was worth it.
