Ten years.
Ten years since he'd last been in Kyoto. Ten years spent traveling the islands of his home and beyond. Ten years spent searching, judging for himself whether to look at the world for what it was or for what it could be.
In the end he did come to his own path, one that wound through the vast grey between his mentor's darkness and the light of the man who'd defeated him. The weak did not always deserve to die, neither did they always deserve rescue. Now, it was his own judgment he would trust.
Now, it was time to move forward; time to wield his sword for his own vision.