The near-smirk about earning Lore for his swordsmithing earns Mizu a flat look from Vergil over in the kitchen. They both know why he's smiling and what he's teasing about, but Vergil doesn't give him the satisfaction of getting a further rise out of Vergil than just a look. Looking at the dishes in his sink, Vergil opts to leave them for after Mizu leaves. He has, after all, more to clean than just their plates.

"And how exactly do you match a blade to a person?" he asks as he moves the pan, cutting board, and knife to the sink.

Vergil isn't ignorant to the idea of a blade matching its wielder. Yamato was his father's blade once and Vergil's own son has wielded it as well. But he would be lying if he attempted to deny he feels a stronger claim to it than anyone else in his bloodline, including his father. By now, Vergil has full command of the Yamato's power. When he wields it, the sword is an extension of him and his will. Vergil moves with grace and speed, the blade itself enhancing his own natural abilities further. And when he transforms, the blade and its scabbard become physical parts of him. There is, in some ways, no separating Vergil from Yamato or Yamato from Vergil. Not for long. But Yamato isn't an ordinary blade made purely of steel by the hands of everyday men, and it wasn't forged with Vergil in mind. When Sparda divided his power into the blade, it was so that the gate between worlds could be properly sealed, not with the intention of one passing the blade down to a son. Vergil's connection with the blade came far later and unintentionally.

So, the question and its associated curiosity is genuine. Vergil abandons the dishes for now to return to his spot on the bed.