Vergil says nothing to Mizu's words, something she knows better from personal experience than to take as acceptance. It still feels a victory, steps further down the right path, the path Mizu follows in sparring with Vergil. Honestly, the restriction on not killing each other limits Vergil far more than her. Today was the closest she's come to need to be concerned with it at all, those split moments of sudden doubt. Mizu is free to fight by all means necessary, while Vergil cannot. Yet Mizu doubts that spoils any fun because she too takes only a modicum of enjoyment in defeating men far lesser than her. Usually it's more about destroying their pride and egos, after their acts of superiority to her, than anything to do with the physical feat.
Even as thoughts and memories of Shindo dojo come to her, Mizu knows Vergil does not look at her the way she looked at those swordsmen, at all those swordsmen except Taigen. (Presumably the master of the dojo could equally be a challenge if he has not grown soft, but it would take far more for him to deem to fight her, and she did not need that from him). He never would have handed over his blade, never would have... she doesn't know, so much of what they've done, if he thought of her that way. His opinion of her won't change her opinion of herself, mind, but she would be disappointed, yes disappointed, to lose his company in sparring.
Instead he offers the use of his sword. Mizu's head shoots up, and she stares openly at him, mouth dropping open a little. After a moment or so for it to sink in as a serious offer (it's Vergil, it wouldn't be like him to joke about something so serious and personal), she pushes the covers further back, unfolds, and steps out of the bed onto the floor. Her foot is much better than before, and this opportunity makes her more grateful for it than she would be otherwise. What is limping around for a while compared to getting to take Mirage Edge through its paces?
"Yes," Mizu inhales, excited.
Mizu moves to the center of the training space, takes a deep breath, and despite the pain across her ribs and continued soreness in her arm takes up Vergil's ready position, the one he usually takes with Mirage Edge. Mizu pauses and adjusts her position to make it more correct in small details. Then she works through a series of basic moves Vergil regularly uses. She stops when she needs to in order to correct the technique. It's not her usual way of moving, but this has always been how she's learned. Observing and copying others. Mizu repeats herself over and over. Each movement focused on having the correct technique more than power or speed. That can come with time and experience.
Silly perhaps, but everything else falls away. The lingering pain. The enjoyable argument with Vergil. All of it, compared to a man and a sword and copying techniques. They will not work with her sword as she has, but the fox spirit offers different weapons at different times. This work, this from the inside out, is Vergil.
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Even as thoughts and memories of Shindo dojo come to her, Mizu knows Vergil does not look at her the way she looked at those swordsmen, at all those swordsmen except Taigen. (Presumably the master of the dojo could equally be a challenge if he has not grown soft, but it would take far more for him to deem to fight her, and she did not need that from him). He never would have handed over his blade, never would have... she doesn't know, so much of what they've done, if he thought of her that way. His opinion of her won't change her opinion of herself, mind, but she would be disappointed, yes disappointed, to lose his company in sparring.
Instead he offers the use of his sword. Mizu's head shoots up, and she stares openly at him, mouth dropping open a little. After a moment or so for it to sink in as a serious offer (it's Vergil, it wouldn't be like him to joke about something so serious and personal), she pushes the covers further back, unfolds, and steps out of the bed onto the floor. Her foot is much better than before, and this opportunity makes her more grateful for it than she would be otherwise. What is limping around for a while compared to getting to take Mirage Edge through its paces?
"Yes," Mizu inhales, excited.
Mizu moves to the center of the training space, takes a deep breath, and despite the pain across her ribs and continued soreness in her arm takes up Vergil's ready position, the one he usually takes with Mirage Edge. Mizu pauses and adjusts her position to make it more correct in small details. Then she works through a series of basic moves Vergil regularly uses. She stops when she needs to in order to correct the technique. It's not her usual way of moving, but this has always been how she's learned. Observing and copying others. Mizu repeats herself over and over. Each movement focused on having the correct technique more than power or speed. That can come with time and experience.
Silly perhaps, but everything else falls away. The lingering pain. The enjoyable argument with Vergil. All of it, compared to a man and a sword and copying techniques. They will not work with her sword as she has, but the fox spirit offers different weapons at different times. This work, this from the inside out, is Vergil.