Father listened to Orochimaru recount his life.
When Orochimaru wasn't paying attention, he dabbed at the corners of his eyes with his sleeve.
He had lost his parents at six, and the rest of his life had been spent amid turmoil.
War, theft, and killing had become the theme of his life.
Although he had made friends, in the end they had gone their separate ways.
It could be said that, so far, nothing in Orochimaru's life had ever come to a satisfying end.
Things always ended in tragedy.
Father had so much he wanted to say—words of comfort, advice, encouragement, and wisdom.
But in the end, he said none of it. A thousand words became just one sentence.
"Son, you've had such a hard time all these years..."
Father was heartbroken by everything Orochimaru had been through.
If he were young, he would certainly have done everything in his power to bring Orochimaru over from the Other World.
But now, he was just an old man. His Jonin strength had long since dwindled to almost nothing.
He couldn't help at all and could only fret helplessly by himself.
"Father, things have gotten better now."
Orochimaru understood his father's helplessness, and he knew how his father felt.
"My life used to be bleak and loathsome, but Lord Torifu's arrival changed everything. I discovered how vast this world is, and how small I am."
"My outlook has changed a lot, and I feel more at ease. My plans for the future will change too. I owe all of this to Lord Torifu."
Hearing this, Father's troubled face finally broke into a faint smile. "I see. That's wonderful. I can't do much to help you, but with Lord Torifu by your side, your mother and I can rest easy."
Conversations between men