Mizu waves a hand at Vergil when he insists she drink water. Yes, yes, water. She knows. She would have gotten there on her own in time, if he'd provide a modicum of patience. Still, she drains the glass quickly and pours herself some more. It would be easier to be flat, lying down, than vertical for the lightheadedness, but Mizu doesn't mean to monopolize Vergil's bed all day. Nor his time. She doesn't mind however much time they spend together on a sparring day. Together or apart, she sets aside a whole day for it, so there's nothing else, no other demands on her time. The library and the forge can wait.

Her breathing is a little better, and Mizu grins tiredly at Vergil for the compliment. A small nod. It is often easy in Japan to identify the school a swordsman trained in and know what techniques he will use. Those fights take little effort as she uses the techniques that best counter that style, and that is all. It takes a particularly skilled fighter and/or an unfamiliar one to demand that much of her. But oh, what fun it is to learn by fighting someone.

"I mean to defeat you," Mizu says, "I must know how to predict what you do, down to every detail, so I can more effectively create and utilize openings and advantages. It is even better practicing with Mirage Edge to understand the movements. Not as easy to incorporate for use with my sword, but can't have things be too easy. That'd be boring."

There's few people she's meant to defeat she gets along with well, none she's explained that she's doing that. Then again, no one's been interested in or paid attention to the fact she does it.

"You've seen only a sliver of the styles I know. So many of them are useless to outright foolish against you."