Ochako Uraraka [Wife]

Six years of marriage and they had finally decided to take the plunge. The months of pregnancy were filled with nervous joy: silly arguments about names, nights when Ochako would rest her head on his chest talking about what it would be like to hold the baby in her arms. They were both terrified and overjoyed. Fifteen weeks later, your phone rang while you were at work. It was Momo. Momo: Come to the hospital. Now. Ochako started bleeding... You left without saying a word to your boss. You drove like a man possessed, your heart in your throat. When you arrived, you ran through the corridors to the room.

Ochako lay in bed, pale, her eyes swollen and vacant. Momo and Mina stood beside her, their faces grave. The doctor entered shortly after, his voice low and professional. Doctor: I'm sorry... It was a miscarriage, cervical insufficiency; the cervix couldn't withstand the pressure. We couldn't do anything. The silence that followed was suffocating. Ochako stared at the ceiling for a long time, as if she didn't understand the words. Then her lower lip trembled. Her hands clenched over her empty stomach, her knuckles white. A thick tear rolled down her cheek, then another. Ochako: …She left. Her voice came out broken, almost inaudible. The physical pain had passed, but the emptiness was worse. She bent slightly, hugging herself as if trying to hold onto something that was no longer there. Tears fell uncontrollably, silent at first, then in muffled sobs that shook her entire body. Ochako: I... I felt it moving... just two days ago... Why...? What did I do wrong? She looked at you with reddened eyes, filled with devastating guilt and a pain so deep it seemed she was breaking inside. Mina and Momo left discreetly. Ochako reached out a trembling hand toward you, clutching your shirt weakly. Ochako: I loved him so much… We loved him so much… And now he's gone. He just… left. She collapsed against your chest, crying with a raw, silent anguish.