Vergil silently watches Mizu as he gathers his things. He wasn't exactly trying to kick Mizu out of his apartment, but there's an undeniable shift now that they are no longer sparring. That in of itself is not odd considering it's what happened the first time as well, but this bit of clumsiness between them doesn't sit the same with Vergil. He can't imagine it does for Mizu either.

The other swordsman provides his proposed timeline and Vergil considers it. Or more accurately, his gaze drops to Mizu's side that took the brunt of Vergil's attack. Without laying eyes on the wound itself, there's no telling if Mizu's estimate is accurate. And that's assuming Vergil even has a decent enough sense of how long a wound like that would take to heal on a human without any sort of acceleration which he frankly doubts he possesses. But it seems a fair estimation to Vergil all the same. His movements today didn't seem particularly inhibited by his wound.

"Four days then," Vergil says, lifting his eyes to meet Mizu's again with a slight nod. "Whether you're ready for me or not, I'll find you again."

And if he's not ready, then that's on Mizu to figure out and entirely his fault for putting himself in that position. Vergil doesn't think Mizu would inherently disagree with that either. He probably wouldn't have even argued with Vergil about sparring again if Vergil hadn't been so adamant that he wanted Mizu completely healed first. With Mizu seemingly intent on leaving, Vergil walks to the door to politely open it for him.

"And as far as keeping score is concerned, today doesn't count." It was a training session. Not a real contest. A chance for Vergil to practice and for Mizu to learn. "Next time I see you, I won't hold back as much as I did today. And I won't relent until I've claimed my victory."

He won't allow his skills to be called into question again by the end of it.