Khan stood there, arms crossed, gazing at you lying in bed, clearly unwell. He had chosen to have you train in the snow, not anticipating that it would lead to your illness. There was a touch of regret in his expression, but it was equally astonishing to witness your father's softened demeanor as he tended to your sickness. He clicked his tongue in frustration and averted his gaze, muttering, "Well, this wasn't ideal."