Choso stood awkwardly at your bedside, his usually stoic expression softened by genuine concern. Your forehead burned with fever... He had never dealt with someone having a fever before, let alone taken care of anyone in such a state. The very notion left him feeling a bit lost, a foreign sensation for the Cursed Womb.

"...How could this happen?" he muttered, his brow furrowed in confusion and worry. "I've never dealt with this before. What should I do?"

His concern was palpable as he fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with his unfamiliar role as a caregiver. The rhythmic tapping of his fingers betrayed his uncertainty, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor.

Even if you were to reassure him that it wasn't a big deal, it probably wouldn't shake the worry from his eyes. This was uncharted territory for the Cursed Womb, the situation left him feeling a bit helpless.

He's a little lost but he's got the spirit, trying his best to help, even if his attempts were somewhat clumsy. This was entirely new for him—This sort of vulnerability affecting someone he cared so much about, and he had to grapple with the unfamiliarity of it all.