They fight in a variety of locations, wherever Vergil finds Mizu or Mizu finds Vergil when it's an acceptable time (by Vergil's terms, he's always been the one who insists she heals fully). While calling it 'more even' might be a stretch too far, it's less one sided than the time before. Yet she hasn't had the time to improve as much as she needs to to really beat him as cleanly into the ground. One of his attacks hit and send Mizu skidding back across the cobbled street in Epiphany. Her femur doesn't break, but Mizu limps a step or two.
Then she throws up a hand to pause the fight. "Wait. Give me a few moments."
Mizu sheaths her sword, sits on the street cross-legged despite the fact that makes her want to whimper, and focuses her breathing into something approaching meditation. It is difficult with Vergil there and clearly intent on her, but Mizu has only practiced this new ability on minor injuries not worth healing save to verify that the ability exists. Her mind stills, and she imagines her leg whole and hale. A refreshing coolness passes through her, and she knows she is healed. Not only her leg, what she intended, but everything, every little thing.
Only then does she open her eyes and pay Vergil any mind. "What?" Mizu asks, fairly certain he said something.
It's not what Vergil said. Even Mizu is liable to recognize that even without having fully attended to what Vergil said given the distinct lack of additional words.
Just before Mizu signaled to Vergil to pause their sparring with one another, Vergil had been on the fast approach. Even with the significant differences in their strength, he knows that if given an inch, Mizu will take a mile. Not following up a clean strike with more to keep Mizu on the move is a surefire way to ensure the other swordsman can take the lead on their fight. But Mizu threw up a hand and asked for Vergil to stop for the moment. So, Vergil came to a halt as quickly as he could, dropping his blade from his intended strike to something less offensive and regarded Mizu warily as Mizu sheathed his blade.
Vergil wouldn't necessarily acknowledge the reason for the furrow in his brow to be one of concern, but Mizu refuses to yield while he remains conscious never mind asking for a break. It merited asking if something was wrong. When there was no response to his question, Vergil placed Mirage Edge on his back and further closed the distance between them to stand before Mizu as the other swordsman seemingly sat there. Vergil canted his head slightly as the scent of blood on the air lessened and the little signs of injury that he could see with even just a cursory look at Mizu dissipated. He's tempted to get a closer look to be sure this isn't some sort of trick, but he remains rooted to the spot where he stands instead and provides his single word response.
"Not exactly a useful in the heat of battle," he says less as a criticism and more trying to puzzle out the reason for it. Mizu always seemed more driven to push his skill and talents based on his natural power. Perhaps even pushing beyond that with how Vergil has had to be so firm with the rule that Mizu must be more or less fully recovered before they spar again after each fight. Vergil's eyes narrow slightly as he scrutinizes Mizu a bit further. His gaze is sharp enough that it wouldn't be out of the question to feel like he was already puzzling out the answer to his questions already by staring into some part of Mizu where said answer lies. He's not a mind reader though, and he ends up asking bluntly. "You haven't expressed interest in power like this before. Why?"
Strange as it is to be fully healed, when only moments before it hurt to sit in this position, Mizu stands back up and stretches, testing her leg. It feels good. No pain whatsoever. The ability that Thirteen said her Lore summoned works. It works when it's not so bad an injury that Mizu goes unconscious or is in an even worse state, such as it may be. That means it will work then, so long as she can gather herself together enough to do so. It brings a smile to her face.
"No, it's not useful in battle," Mizu agrees. She supposes like any skill it might be improved with training and experience. That will come in time. However, she did not gain the ability in order to use it in the heat of battle. She doesn't want to beat Vergil because she has this ability. That would be cheap and meaningless to her. It won't do anything for her at home, for her when she leaves this place or so she assumes. She must be ready for the conditions under which she can seek her revenge. The same way she is receiving training for combat without weapons, she must improve her skills at combat without abilities.
She sighs a little and shrugs, as though it's no important matter. "I grew tired of waiting so long between our bouts," Mizu says, "We have no guarantee of how long we will be here. I need to improve as much as possible in the time I am here."
Being injured itself doesn't bother her, certainly not enough to ask Thirteen for an ability around it. Mizu's been injured in a myriad of ways more times than she can count. She would fight Vergil injured if he let her. She needs to improve at fighting while injured. Starting injured. She gets plenty of experience fighting him with injuries sustained during their sparring. Certainly, if he enjoys it half as much as she does, Vergil would want to fight more frequently. It's possible someone else here can heal her as quickly and as easily, but what that entails, even if it is only asking someone else for help, is less desirable to Mizu than handling it herself.
Some might readily express their pleasure upon hearing this. After all, acknowledging that one enjoys their matches as much as the other isn't exactly some sort of surprising revelation. Why else would they continue to happen if there wasn't some enjoyment to be found in it? That isn't Vergil's way, however. Especially not when faced with as much pragmatism as there is to be found in the decision to acquire a healing ability like this one and the reason behind Mizu even engaging in fights with Vergil in the first place. So, as Vergil muddles over the relevance of his own personal feelings that go beyond the pragmatic reasons, he stands there in a silence that most would likely take as a bit awkward.
Rather than discussing the potential limits of Mizu's new ability and the implications therein, he says, "If you hunger for defeat that greatly, who am I to deny you?"
It's reasonable to question the limits considering even Vergil's ability—which arguably has more utility considering that what would be a fatal injury can prove otherwise instantly and without thought—has its limits. Until they know how frequently Mizu can heal himself and how severe the injuries can be before they outpace the ability, it's best that they keep experimentation with it a bit limited and concentrated. And Vergil doesn't really trust that Mizu is necessarily thinking of his ability in those terms. Not when he's yet to witness a limit to Vergil's own healing ability and with his own hardheadedness to simply throw himself forward in pursuit of his goals as much as possible.
But it made Mizu smile. And regardless of potential limits, there won't be weeks between their sparring any longer. So, Vergil doesn't need to be the voice of reason all the time even if he's maintaining it privately. He doesn't need to take a happy moment when there are likely so few for Mizu, and crush it beneath his heel. He can let it be and just tease Mizu instead. Even if on the surface it doesn't necessarily sound like he's teasing.
Mizu's smile turns into something of a smirk. It does not matter how many times she loses, so long as she stands up again, so long as she can fight again, so long as she can carry on. Fowler beat her the first time, when she was injured from going through his castle. Yet it's not that defeat, that failure, that stays on her mind (though she does not forget it). Nor is it when she was unarmed, being crushed against his armor until ribs broke. Because that was not the end, not real defeat. What matters is his knife in her hand, digging into his neck as she extracts information about the remaining two men. Only one word but what a word.
So losing to Vergil before. Today. Tomorrow. A hundred times. That is not defeat. Those are stepping stones to her victory, to her triumph, not only to her revenge but to getting the better of him. It will happen. Mizu will make it happen, no matter how hard she has to train or how many injuries she must heal. She will defeat him before she returns home and carry that memory with her as well.
Mizu draws her sword and returns to a proper starting position. "You will eat those words," Mizu declares. Her commitment, her focus, everything is on this moment. On winning this time, not that far off someday. Each day, each fight, she believes it's possible. Perhaps not in a fair manner, but Mizu cares nothing for honor. Other men may die with their honor. She'd rather live. Kill.
She springs forward, aggressive and precise and quick. As quick as her slender form allows. A bit quicker than humanly possible, for she is a Myth, but not so much it's obvious, not so much Mizu notices.
Vergil smirks as Mizu readies himself. They are just sparring matches. They are opportunities for Mizu to adapt and learn against an opponent with limits that go beyond his human targets even if the other swordsman hasn't yet tasted the true extent of Vergil's power. But he does as Vergil has always asked and approaches them with the ferocity becoming of a fight to the death, ready to push well past his limits rather than caving to whatever anxieties or doubts would bring others to yield well before.
Vergil had come quite close after Mizu put a pause to their spar to test his new ability. So, the distance is shorter than when they typically begin to clash blades, but Vergil is no less prepared to receive the other swordsman when he surges forward for his attack. He draws Mirage Edge and parries Mizu's strikes. Those that he cannot, he dodges. Mizu is faster than a baseline human—his Myth abilities see to that—but he's still not quick enough to best Vergil's own natural speed, leaving his blade to strike a false afterimage instead. Eventually, Vergil seeks to put a little distance so that he can reclaim the tempo for himself once again.
On Mizu's next strike, he locks their blades together and twists, driving their blades towards the ground with the intention of wedging Mizu's blade into the loose cobblestone. With his considerable strength, Vergil could leave Mizu without his blade entirely for the remainder of their sparring, but he's not interested in that fight today. Mizu should be able to yank it free with his own strength. He's more interested in creating leverage as he uses Mizu like a springboard, kicking off the other man to both free his blade and try to part Mizu from his own.
Vergil doesn't give Mizu the luxury of recovery time from the sudden foot to his gut, and even if he's not freeing Mizu of his blade for the remainder of the fight doesn't mean that he's simply going to allow the other swordsman to pluck it from the ground without any resistance. Summoned blades appear from above Mizu like a bed of nails, hanging in the air only long enough for them to form before they rain down upon him. Mizu should be familiar enough with them by now to know Vergil's formation of them is tight. Gaps between the blades are present, but the speed at which they fall makes purely dodging into those gaps without cutting a few of the out of the air as they fall near impossible. Being struck by them is also a poor outcome not just for their initial injuries but because they seem to cause whatever they strike to move so slowly they almost appear to come to a standstill. If they strike their target, Mizu is vulnerable to Vergil's follow-up swing of Mirage Edge.
There's no give to Mizu's attacks against Vergil, as he has plenty of advantages that any amount of time provides him the opportunity to use. In this environment, just the two of them, Mizu limits that as she can. As she can being the key word. Mizu growls at Vergil as their blades bend downward. He's not the first to use increased strength against her, and she's not so stubborn as to try to push his sword back up now they've started to go down. No, she needs a freed blade and to have it soon again at hand.
It's not graceful. Mizu moves to fling her sword backward. First, the tip travels between the gap of two stones. Vergil forces the breath out of her chest, and that movement speeds the sword with greater force. It releases from her hand and embeds into the wall of the building behind her. That leaves it stuck farther away from Vergil, but that's not what Mizu meant to do. Nor the first time her sword's gotten stuck somewhere. No time for frustration, however.
Bare handed, Mizu throws herself to the side, rolling and dodging away from the forest of blades. Even the castle she invaded didn't go to the expense of making so many swords and rods come out of the walls and ceilings, but those would have to be made, not summoned at their convenience. Quick to return to a standing position, Mizu blocks the follow up attack with her wrist. The sword slices through her sleeve, but it comes up against solid steel, not muscle and bone, beneath it. Yet Mizu wishes to hold that contest of strength even less than that with swords. She moves past Vergil, running right toward the wall, to spring up it, compress, and shoot back across the alley toward her sword. Which, supposing she gets it, allows her to return to balance and even attack.
It should perhaps be a bit frustrating that Mizu manages to dodge the heavy rain of swords even when it does foil his follow-up enough that his blade bites metal instead of flesh. Especially since it's likely Mizu wouldn't have been quite as capable of doing so if he still possessed a more baseline human speed relative to what he possesses in Folkmore. But it's difficult to feel all that frustrated when it's such a clear reflection of Mizu memorizing Vergil's patterns and retaining his lessons from previous times they've clashed with one another. Being pushed like that is what keeps it fresh for Vergil. Thus, there's no sign of frustration.
Mizu swiftly moves behind Vergil, and the half-demon tracks the other swordsman as he uses the wall to reach his destination. It's the safer option, of course. The alternative would be putting his back to Vergil, and that wouldn't end well for Mizu. Not that there isn't still the opportunity to cut Mizu down out of the air, but Vergil chooses not to go that route. Instead, he offers a minor complication to Mizu's landing.
As Mizu speeds toward his sword, Vergil reverses his grip on Mirage Edge. He slashes the air twice in rapid succession. Two vertical bands of energy emerge that would form an X if perfectly overlayed with one another, following the arc of Mirage Edge's strikes out forward and far beyond Vergil's reach. They travel significantly faster than the horizontal band that Vergil needs time to form, making them likewise significantly faster than Mizu in the air. But the point isn't for them to land upon the swordsman's person so much as to create some impediment to cleanly grabbing his blade. Thus, they tear at the cobblestone beneath, launching rock, earth, and gravel as they cut through the ground and eventually scar the wall beside Mizu's sword rather than on the blade itself. (The last thing Vergil needs or wants to do, after all, is break Mizu's blade and put an end to their contest so soon.) It's nothing that should truly hinder Mizu from collecting his blade, but there may be a few bumps and bruises for his troubles. With a skillful twirl of the blade in his hand, Vergil changes his grip back to normal.
Drawing back for a moment, Vergil meets Mizu's attack with a thrust of his own. In doing so, he covers the several feet of distance between them easily with the single motion rather than any steps. There's enough momentum behind it that regardless of whether Mirage Edge buries itself in Mizu or simply collides with Mizu's blade, the pair of them will likely find themselves moving in that same direction upon contact for a little while longer. Even with Mizu putting up resistance, there's little slowing Vergil's momentum, and Mizu may find it slightly disorienting with Vergil moving both of them at seemingly the same speed as his teleports as it's not just Vergil's afterimage that trails behind them. Which really was the point more than hoping for injury. His follow-up strike is with the intention of sending Mizu into the air. But rather than following Mizu up there himself if he's successful, Vergil will instead wind up and hurl Mirage Edge after him, the blade spinning like a potentially deadly top.
Mizu grits her teeth and bears the mild assault Vergil flings up toward regaining her sword. A small measure in a battle that can become a one-sided measure of attrition. That's as much of her own doing as Vergil's however, so Mizu accepts the her bumps with appreciation for the fact it's the kind of issue she's addressed again and again. It will continue to happen, so it's good not to lose practice facing someone as... fancy as Vergil.
It's one of those moments where time seems to slow, except time slowing doesn't even return their movements to a normal human speed. Mizu sets aside that issue as the facts of the matter. It shouldn't be surprising, and Mizu trusts instead that the sense of danger comes from something more than the reminder Vergil can move (them) very quickly. Her eyes run over her surroundings, and Mizu spots a chimney rising out of the opposite building. Her hand reaches inside to pull on a supply of thin solid rope that is part of her expanded inventory thanks to Thirteen's sense of whimsy. It also benefits her here.
The strike sends her upward, and Mizu throws the looped end of the rope across toward the chimney. It reaches it, barely large enough, and threatens to come back off. By that time, Mirage Edge whirls toward her, and Mizu sacrifices precious time to let the rope settle before jerking it to pull herself partly out of the way of the blade. There's little time to consider. Mizu curls up her body and holds her sword at a defensive angle. The sword scrapes against hers, and the power behind it reverberates up her arm. It continues to spin. The next spin it hits steel wrapped around her ankle. The third hits the bottom of her shoe, slicing through it and into her foot.
Mizu slams against the roof and forces herself into a standing position. Even if she could heal herself quickly then and there, she wouldn't. Blood stains the roof below her foot, and Mizu motions for Vergil to follow her. Come along. It's warmer than Mizu would prefer, but she ignores that, centers herself, and attacks Vergil the moment he comes up.
Vergil watches Mirage Edge carefully to see if it finds any purchase on Mizu. Sparks fly as their blades meet and the same cacophonous crash happens again when it digs into Mizu's ankle. It's the bottom of his foot where it finally strikes and the scent of blood mingles back into the air. Vergil extends his hand as Mizu lands on the roof and Mirage Edge ceases its circling in the air immediately. It pivots and flies towards Vergil at such speed and an angle that Mizu could be forgiven for thinking it may very well skewer Vergil. But similar to his control over the smaller blades, Vergil brings the blade up just in time for him to have a firm grasp on it once again. He waits a moment, expecting Mizu to take advantage of the height he has over Vergil now to launch another attack. Mizu surprises him, however. He doesn't seem to want to chance landing on his foot so soon. It's the wiser choice, but it's not like Mizu to give Vergil any time whatsoever. They both know better than to give the other the opportunity. Then the invitation to come to the roof. So, that's the play...
It's not just Vergil that lands on the roof. He leaps into the air higher than any man could on his own before jumping off the wall to give himself the additional height. It's enough to clear the building—it only a modest two-storey building—but he doesn't come to land down on the tiles just yet. Vergil teleports himself even higher and further out of reach, hanging in the air a moment before his clone manifests with a movement of his arm. With a nod of his head, Vergil sends the clone ahead of himself. The demonic spectre races forward, drawing its blade for an overhead attack to meet Mizu while Vergil safely lands on the roof.
It's two against one, but Vergil isn't a fool. He knows he won't win by numbers alone with Mizu. The swordsman has previous expertly handled contending with twin attacks from both Vergil and his doppelganger even if the spectral version of Vergil has come at his behest rather than Mizu's victory over it. And he wouldn't expect anything different. Even if Mizu were more dissimilar when it comes to his solitude during a fight, he is always mindful of his environment and that includes the presence of others.
Once again, Vergil surges forward with his blade. This time when he finds Mizu, he stabs rapidly again and again and again and again while his clone maintains the more practiced forms of cuts and slashes. If he was attacking in a more lethal manner, Vergil would be even faster with his stabs. It would likely be hundreds of wounds before Mizu could finish drawing and releasing a steady breath. But he holds himself back enough that Mizu still has a shot at defending himself from Vergil's attacks while not making it a guarantee with his attention needing to be split between two half-demon.
It is true to how they fight. The invitation gives Vergil the opportunity to set some of the tenor of this next stage of their engagement. The copy as predictable as Vergil's ability to leap far higher than this building all on his own. Mizu engages the ghostly version of Vergil while still keeping an eye on the original, the greater danger that. With practiced ease and habit, Mizu lengthens her sword into a naginata. Two opponents in most other circumstances would not call for it, but Vergil is a dangerous enough opponent that Mizu uses it to create more space around her and balance the two.
Based off the attacks they make, Mizu uses her weapon to force greater distance between her and the distraction. Were it only a guarantee she could steal Vergil's blade from him by anchoring it in her body, she would. However, that sword is no regular sword, and even should he lose his grip on it, he could call it back to himself and leave her with dreadful bleeding, worse than that coming from her foot, for the foolish move. Equally, buying space from Vergil is only a move that helps in a moment while sacrificing so much more.
Perhaps her choice is no less foolish. Mizu steps between them and thrusts the end of her naginata against the double to propel herself all the faster toward Vergil. She twists in the air to avoid his latest attack with only partial success as they move quickly together. Pain burns along her torso where she cuts herself against the edge. It doesn't matter. Mizu already pulls an explosive out, using her teeth to start the process. The wick burns down as she comes closer to Vergil. She stabs it into his armpit, set to use him to shield her from the worst of it. He may not be so large as the giant of a man she faced, but he's harder to kill. Though it's not like she's stabbing him in the neck with it.
As schooled as Vergil's expressions always are, the urgency of the moment leaves him no time to maintain his usual stoicism. His eyes widen at the explosive lodged in close to his person before he jerks his gaze to Mizu. There's no time to think, to analyze the risk. It's by pure animal instinct that Vergil's hand fists into the front of Mizu's shirt. He draws Mizu in close for just a moment, but it's not to ensure he also bears some of the blast. It's a windup before he hurls Mizu with all his strength before the explosive is detonated. Mizu is not left to fend for himself though once launched. Vergil's doppelganger—still manifested and still under the half-demon's control—catches Mizu clean out of the air. Its primary focus is to get Mizu safely on the ground, but still it draws the other swordsman in as tightly as it can and twists in midair to put its back to Vergil.
Once safely landed, Mizu is released and set down gently. The clone doesn't linger, however. By the time Mizu's on his feet, the blast has already come and gone, leaving dust and smoke in its wake. Having enacted the will of its master, the clone dissipates into wisps of its own blue smoke akin to Mirage Edge when it's dismissed.
Vergil's own landing is much less smooth than Mizu. The blast is blinding in both light and the pain it inspires and Vergil's world spins as he's lifted off the rooftop. Despite his grip, Mirage Edge falls from his hand somewhere along the way, although he couldn't rightly say where it ends up. He barely has any sense of where he is, only that he bounces and strikes and skids before he comes to wherever it is he's landed. He's only aware of the scent of burnt flesh and blood, his eyes stinging, and a maddening, deafening ring in his ears afterward.
His next breaths are raspy and wet, the taste of copper in the back of his throat. Vergil's vision swims as he sits up, the ground trying to become his walls and sky. The most he can make sense of is that the building stands between him and Mizu if his clone was successful, if he held onto his concentration for it long enough. It's of little consequence though if the shooting, hot pain in his side is any indication. Vergil blindly reaches around until his fingertips graze the chunk of shrapnel that's embedded itself into him. It takes a moment for him to get a proper grip. He has to close his eyes to shut out his still correcting vision before he can, but it at least gives him a moment to steady his breath first. Unlike removing the sword from his hand, Vergil isn't quite so quiet. A blade is a smooth edge. Shrapnel is significantly less so. What starts as a grunt and growl eventually tears out a howl of pain as it loosens and dislodges from the half-devil. He quiets down quickly enough though once it's removed.
Throwing it aside, Vergil tucks his legs beneath him and breaths through the discomfort as his body repairs the wound. Each breath is less raspy than the last and eventually, Vergil spits the blood from his mouth. He holds out a slightly shaky hand, and Mirage Edge returns to him from wherever it was sent. This time, the force of its return has a bit of an effect and Vergil must steady himself before he can use Mirage Edge as leverage.
Vergil rises once more to his feet. There's a slight sway for just a moment as he's still slightly hunched over, using the sword more as a cane than anything else. Like a newborn fawn or calf, he takes an unsteady half-step in his initial attempt to right himself. But after a pause, Vergil rights himself properly and he's firmly planted back to the ground once he does. Despite the cuts and scrapes, and the blossoming bruise to the side of his face, he would appear no worse for wear in the end.
With his significant injuries more or less done healing, he looks for Mizu, assuming that the swordsman went looking for Vergil for one reason or another.
When their eyes meet, he says, "I can still fight."
Though Mizu meant to use Vergil to block the worst of the blast from her, she cannot fault him for grabbing her and holding her close. She's survived it before, and she can survive it again. Probably. At least the explosion isn't happening within a contained space. Plus the fall is not nearly as far. Mizu prepares for the consequences—it was her choice to risk them—when suddenly she flies through the air. There's little time to stare at Vergil, less to ask him why, when the double comes for her. She readies herself to continue the fight, but again, no, it's anything but.
In the end, Mizu cannot see the explosion itself or what happens to Vergil. Her view is blocked, and Mizu struggles against the thing that looks like Vergil but isn't to do so. It doesn't work. They land, and it sets her down with gentleness she doesn't deserve. Mizu would demand answers of it except it disappears. Mizu's heart thumps hard in her chest. Did she get it wrong? Did she kill Vergil? Cross the single line they agreed not to cross, the line it's felt impossible for her to cross with what she's currently capable of. She did not strike it into his head or neck, for concern that might go too far, or use the wire she carries to try to decapitate him. Reasonable limits, Mizu thought.
Walking hurts, both because of the wound to her foot and the fresh slice into her flesh. It matters not at all. With her weapon to stabilize her, she moves quickly around the building they were just atop. Vergil did not land back in the street with her, so he must be somewhere else. She cannot easily reach the top, so she first will check the entire perimeter. Something releases in her when she sees him breathing. Little as Mizu generally cares about honor or lying to others, she's glad she hasn't made so much a mistake that Vergil pays for. He looks worse than she expected. In another moment, he straightens and looks much better, though Mizu cannot tell if that is his healing or his pride.
Other minor injuries remain, something Mizu expects of most people but not of Vergil. It should be a thrill of success, a mark of progress to wound him enough that something sticks. Though Mizu marks the knowledge, the way she remembers everything that could help her, she would call the fight there if—
A pleased smile crosses Mizu's face at his words, so similar to her own time and time again. Mizu returns her sword to its state and wraps herself in her steel guards, a quick movement despite the pain. "As can I," Mizu assures him.
Not that she used the break, the pause, to heal. Her mind was nothing close to calm. With the same respect she expects from him when she says those words, Mizu shrugs back her shoulders, returns to a good stance, and flies forward. Curiosity as well drives her. She returns to the technique of attacks of attrition, those designed to wound and to slow him down. Before, they'd do nothing, but Mizu needs to know whether that is still the case.
To the untrained and unfamiliar eye, it's likely that Vergil would seem ultimately unaffected by the explosive. He keeps pace with Mizu without too much trouble, parrying and dodging his strikes as they come. One after the other and Vergil doesn't break a sweat or show any signs of tiring. But Mizu's had enough time sparring with Vergil to know the difference. Mirage Edge doesn't glow with quite the same brightness, its afterimage smaller and closer to the blade itself rather than proving itself to be a potential threat that it tends to be. Rather than taking the opportunity to strike back or turn the tide of their clashing back into his own offensive measures, Vergil plays it conservatively. He remains defensive instead and simply focused on not getting hit. But even his defensive maneuvers have changed. He's less keen to use his trick dodges, no longer teleporting himself out of harm's way. He opts for more physical movements, leaning, stepping, and even rolling and flipping himself out of the way when it calls for it.
So, she doesn't need to land strikes to wound and slow him down. As it is, he's already slowed down relative to normal. As ready as Vergil is to fight again and as much as he still holds his own seemingly easily enough with what he's been reduced to relying upon, it's more an illusion of being hardly worse for wear than the truth. An injury such as the one Mizu bestowed upon him with the grenade takes a bit of time for Vergil to recuperate from the expenditure of demonic energy to heal. Never mind using his clone to bring Mizu to safety just moments before. It serves as evidence that for Vergil, it's not just his abilities or raw strength that define his skill. He has a sharp mind and is attuned deeply to the rhythm and flow of their sparring that he doesn't need to move at a speed faster than Mizu can track with his eyes to avoid being sliced.
But before Mizu can find any potential comfort in the evidence that Vergil has slowed a bit, Vergil starts to gradually find his second wind. As Vergil focuses less on the dull throb of his side as the last of the injury truly heals, and more on predicting Mizu's next move, Mirage Edge slowly begins to glow brighter again. The more they clash, the greater the distance from the spectral blade to its afterimage. Mizu gets a strike past Vergil's defenses as he sometimes tends to, but rather than finding Vergil stumbling back or faltering, Vergil doesn't hesitate and attempts to exploit the inherent vulnerability in landing a strike by returning one to Mizu. He ignores the pain in his side, the wound healing just as quickly as it always does, to follow up regardless of whether he lands one strike after the next or not.
There are limits to Vergil's abilities, limits even someone like Mizu can push him toward. Their fight feels more familiar to those back home, to facing an excellent if human opponent, for some time. This side of him, the skills that come of training and self-reliance, earn more of her respect than any flashy fancy magical skill could. Mizu doesn't forget what he revealed in his lodgings, that he can learn any weapon simply by picking it up, but plenty of fools learn the moves without learning how to apply them properly. Defensive as Vergil is, he's good.
Mizu presses hard, despite the blood starting to soak into her clothes and the blood marking her steps on the ground as they move over and over again. He also heals. Slower. But heals. Vergil finds no reason to wait to heal himself (or perhaps it is not choice but fact). Mizu fails to take necessary advantage of Vergil's weakness, though she notes how long it takes Vergil to recover. Should she would him so severely in the future, she knows the length of her window. Her teeth grind, but Mizu has no time to ponder on that reaction. Not in the middle of combat.
Her sword finds purchase, dealing lasting damage to Vergil's clothes but no more. She twists to avoid his attack. The move avoids Mirage Edge itself, but the flow of their movements pushes her into the afterimage. A small grimace as she earns yet another injury. Honestly, someone could guess she's the one who got too close to a grenade with these injuries she's building up. Despite it, Mizu blocks the next attack and the next, though the pain in her foot makes it harder to hold the proper footwork. Her sandal is damaged, and her foot slips on the blood when she stays in place too long.
Clearly, everything is as normal. Vergil. Her. Nothing changed but the firmness of their determination. It starts to snow around them on the previously clear day. Mizu thinks little of it, when it is likely due to the fox spirit. A few flakes then more. Mizu takes a step back to grab a handful of snow out of the air and rub it across her face. Its coolness brings her back to her senses. Vergil's fine. She's... fine enough. The pain fades from her focus and attention, and Mizu attacks with excellent technique despite her injuries. Fast and hard, even going for the point of impact from the explosion, should it be a sensitive spot.
They separate again, a natural pause in the flow and rhythm of their fight, as the flakes begin to fall. Vergil glances skyward at the sudden precipitation, brow furrowing in curiosity. He doesn't need to have any sort of ability to sense that the snow isn't remotely natural. But rather than ruminating on the relatively inoffensive snowfall (the individual flakes sting a bit against his cuts and scrapes, but there is something soothing about the cooler air against his bruise), Vergil sheds his ruined coat and tosses it aside. His shirt and vest are not holding up much better technically speaking. They bear the same slashes in their fabrics as the coat, but there's far less for Mizu to potential grab hold of with those relative to his coat by now. Vergil isn't bothered by the chill brought about by the snow either, the flakes landing and melting on his bare arms as he readies himself into position.
He's impressed with Mizu. Consistently, he's impressed with Mizu. It's almost enough to make Vergil wonder if perhaps even with his improved appreciation for humans if perhaps he is still a little too harsh on his opinions. But that's unlikely the case, he thinks. Mizu is just simply...remarkable. He pushes through pain. He maintains technique and form far beyond what should be reasonable. Perhaps really the only criticism Vergil can offer is in his willingness to throw his life away in pursuit of his goal. It would be more than a little hypocritical, of course, with everything that Vergil had once discarded for the sake of power, but it doesn't make it any less true. Vergil has seen it time and time again. Technique eventually frays giving way to a more base, animalistic instinct. As though killing Vergil bears the same importance as each breath he draws for his continued existence. He bleeds and bleeds and bleeds, and no drop of it seems to serve a discouragement or a push to yield for Mizu.
So, he's remarkable. But he's a remarkable fool.
Vergil's side isn't as tender by the time Mizu attempts to exploit it for his gain. There's no loss of control or form, nor any attempt to retreat and withdraw, but it's one of the rare times that Vergil makes a sound when struck by Mizu. He grits his teeth hard, jaw clenched as he tries to suppress the noise. He's successful insomuch that it does not carry far beyond them, but Mizu will have surely heard it regardless of his efforts. He strikes back not with Mirage Edge, but with his fist to Mizu's jaw to knock him back. It's not hard to see why as Vergil wants the space as he summons swords around Mizu. They spin around the other swordsman much like the spiral Vergil tends to summon to make space for himself. But rather than pointing outward in a protective formation as they would when circling Vergil, they point toward Mizu. They'll only hover a moment before Vergil wills them to stop and converge upon the center point that Mizu happens to occupy. Whether they pierce their target or Mizu is successful in deflecting them all and breaking them before they strike, Vergil leaps at him with an overhead swing to follow up.
The noises Vergil makes bring satisfaction, something like music to her ears, not to be the only one making those sounds as they fight. Mizu ignores the threat of hollowness to that feeling, and a hard blow that sends her head ringing clears any thoughts about anything but the fight. That moment. The fact that Vergil only ever goes for distance to create space for something inhuman, impressive, and irritating. Something that is readily apparent as Mizu readies herself to face it.
Had she the time, Mizu would give Vergil a look that conveys exactly what she thinks of moves like this. However, the numerous sharp pointed objects rain down toward her in less time than that would take. The pain she is in is nothing. Mizu moves toward one side, sweeping those blades aside first in the small time that buys her from the rest. Her sword continues moving, and Mizu—fuck the lesson about the disadvantage in going to the floor—drops in a roll to the ground as her sword sweeps aside the rest.
Well. Almost all the rest.
One sword deflects but not far enough. It pierces her arm. Mizu cries out in frustration, and pain, even as she continues to roll back to standing. No time to concern herself with the latest injury because Vergil attacks again. There's no time for anything but to block the blow while redirecting it away from her. The force of his attack reverberates through her, and her body frees itself of yet more blood as a consequence. His strike need not land to wound her. Even so much costs her dearly. A moment most people might consider the right time to concede.
Instead, Mizu moves in and, despite her body's protests, switches to a one handed grip on her sword. She reaches for Vergil's arm, to use to pull herself in and, though it likely will not land, skewer him from the side with her sword. Defeat is for those who accept it.
Vergil is sent back a little with the impact of their blades colliding. He's able to stop too much momentum from pushing him too far away, but it would appear that it plays to his disadvantage in the end as Mizu grapples onto his arm and draws himself in close. It's a snap decision, but Vergil isn't willing to chance getting stabbed in that particular side again. Not with how far and deep Mizu will no doubt be able to drive it at this angle. He'll be pushed all the more closer to his limits if the strike lands, and it will be too awkward and clumsy to cross his body with Mirage Edge to protect himself.
Thus, it hits like a gale from a storm and Vergil is engulfed in a blue light similar to that of his spectral manifestations, blasting outward in the blink of an eye in a wide radius that sends snow flying out and forcing back Mizu's blade before it can hit its target. If Mizu manages to hold on tight enough to Vergil that he's merely lifted by the transformation rather than thrown, he'll find in place of smooth skin to be scales akin to that of a reptile beneath his hand. Despite the reptilian armor though, Vergil runs feverishly hot like this, albeit none of the infernal energy exhausting from his horns or arms burns to the touch. It's the clone Mizu has seen time and time again made truly real and solid albeit without the Yamato sheathed.
Vergil's tail lashes behind him.
If Mizu thought Vergil was quick and strong before, he is about to have a much truer demonstration of Vergil's demonic power.
Mizu closes her eyes and holds tightly to Vergil's arm. Though she begins with her torso close, nearly hugging his arm to her chest, by the end she's horizontal perpendicular to Vergil's torso and her arm long and straight. It tears at all her wounds, and Mizu's more impressed she kept a hold of her sword than anything else. She looks at Vergil as her feet return to the ground. The features are familiar, if new to the flesh. So that's a demon. Vergil's sort of demon at least.
The fact he gets an additional limb in the form of a tail is absolutely unfair. The name of the game the whole time they've sparred, however, so sure. Of course it's Vergil. Mizu bets that new skin is tougher than before. Harder to pierce or slash. Her job's never been easy, and she wouldn't enjoy fighting Vergil if it were.
Unfortunately, while Vergil's grown stronger and faster, Mizu's strength quavers. Her wounds are numerous, and the blood loss makes it harder to stay on her feet. Her stubbornness carries her far, but her attacks are weaker, her movements sluggish, and her vision going dark around the edges. Still, he'll have to remove her sword and prove his win to get it.
Mizu is notably fading the longer this fight continues on. When he's knocked off-balance, he over-corrects accidentally. Vergil doesn't need to rely upon his full speed to parry Mizu's strikes. Those that do manage to land come more from Vergil not bothering to defend himself rather than Mizu breaking past his defenses as his assumption about the toughness of Vergil's skin like this is correct. Mizu's blade connects, but there isn't so much as a scratch left in its wake. Even attempts at his wings—which he keeps folded down close to his person in a manner that almost seems to mirror his coat rather than extending and flexing them—don't seem to produce a different result. His skin there is no less invulnerable.
It won't be much longer. Vergil is certain of it. Either he claims Mizu's sword or he simply passes out again from his injuries. There are no alternatives at this point.
He'd like to try to for the former if at all possible and give Mizu the opportunity to heal from his injuries. But if it ends up the latter... Well, Vergil's apartment isn't far and Mizu isn't particularly heavy even with his weights on his ankles and wrists.
Mizu strikes out again and their blades meet, gliding along the edge of one another until they meet one another's guards. A clawed hand comes to the dull side of Mizu's blade and leverages it downward to start creating an uncomfortable twist of Mizu's wrists to maintain a hold on it. As he begins to twist the blade into this position, Vergil dismisses Mirage Edge so that he can more freely grab the hilt and fully wrench it from Mizu's hands. If he's successful, he leaps back with a teleport, poised Mizu's katana in his right hand, and Mirage Edge once again manifested albeit in his left hand. If he's not able to wrestle the katana away, he turns quickly and manifesting Mirage Edge, he drives the pommel as hard as he can behind himself and toward Mizu's center with enough force that in his condition, he should be sent tumbling to the ground.
"That's enough."
While in this form, it's still recognizably Vergil's voice. But there's an inhuman quality to it. Despite being in the open, his voice almost sounds as though it is reverberating, layering over itself.
Were Mizu's arm not so badly hurt, she's sure she would have kept her sword. Instead, she's left staring at Vergil holding her sword. Not a sword of her own hand, to be sure; Mizu uses the blade she pulled from a book the first time they met. She blinks, her hand closing around open air, as she stares at him, at that image. It's more striking than his transformation into a demon. Strange, like something imagined, not actually happening.
His voice cuts through it, even as she starts to step toward him. Were they fighting to the death, she would carry on. She's faced dozens of men before, starting without a weapon. Her state would not deter her. With Vergil, however, Mizu can acknowledge there's no further victory at this point. Her steps lead her not toward him but the nearest wall. Mizu turns to lean against it and slowly, with as much control as she can muster, slide down.
Her knees jut up before her torso, and that brings a large wince as it pulls at the long slice across her body. Despite the blood flowing freely from one arm, Mizu physically rearranges her legs to sit cross legged. Blood soaks the snow around her. Indeed so much of the snow is red, it's striking. The color she associates with other people, not herself. Blue is her color. Her mind's wandering when Mizu needs it to focus. She grabs a large handful of clean white snow and holds it against her face. A painful shiver runs through her, but it clears her mind. Mizu feels more herself. More centered. For however long that lasts, she has to focus and meditate. Her eyes close, and Mizu focuses on the lessons swordfather gave her. His voice runs through her mind, a comfort, and her attention turns toward her new ability. To heal herself.
It is harder than any time before, the minor practice before today and even when she healed her leg. Her injuries are worse, and her ability to focus lessened. Something happens, but Mizu nearly passes out during it, her exhaustion so great. She straightens her spine forcefully, winces at the pain that still brings, and admits that what she can do that moment is over. Mizu runs over the sensation of her injuries. Her foot no longer hurts. That wound is healed. The rest, she cannot tell if there is any improvement.
Mizu groans and moves to stand again. The pain is nothing new, and she has looked after herself a long time.
Vergil is entirely prepared for the possibility that his direct statement that their battle with one another has met its end will be ignored. It isn't exactly unlike Mizu to ignore his limits and attempt to push past them even at great cost to himself, after all. But thankfully, for once, it would seem that Mizu sees sense in Vergil calling their fight there. He wobbles his way toward the wall rather than to meet Vergil in one last attempt to snatch a victory. He's even so reasonable that it appears he is willing to take the time to try and heal his injuries as well. As Mizu's eyes close and he meditates, Vergil lowers both blades. As he exhales, he transforms back, a softer light as the slightly larger, sturdier form he was seems to drift away like a mix of ash and smoke. Mirage Edge follows shortly thereafter.
Vergil waits patiently for Mizu to be done, idly running through a few kata with Mizu's sword to keep himself occupied. For being a blade pulled from a book, it's not terrible. It's balanced and he knows well enough the edge is sharp and clean. But it's not the Yamato. Vergil doesn't have a chance to ruminate upon that, however, as he's interrupted by Mizu attempting to stand on his own. He rolls his eyes slightly before narrowing his stance once more. Walking over, he returns Mizu his blade, allowing him to sheathe it for himself. Vergil anticipates protest and struggle, so the katana barely has a moment to click back into its scabbard before Vergil bends down and scoops Mizu up off his feet.
Despite the swiftness of the movement, Vergil is at least careful of potentially still open wounds on Mizu's person. He's certain that it's Mizu's uninjured arm that's against him, and while it's a firm hold, it's not crushing and potentially putting pressure on any slashes that might remain along Mizu's side.
"You take more than a few steps and you're going to pass out," he says, providing an explanation for the sudden bridal carry. Vergil's tone likely implies that he doesn't particularly care the implications of this for Mizu's pride regardless of the apparent hypocrisy. Vergil begins carrying Mizu off in the direction of his apartment building. "You can rest at my apartment. If you wish to leave after you've regained enough strength to manage returning to your home on your own, you may."
It will likely only be an hour or two. Long enough for perhaps a small amount of sleep and some food, and Mizu should be steadier on his feet. Perhaps even possess the ability to heal more of his injuries before he goes. Regardless, Vergil doesn't imagine that Mizu will stay for longer than that. Even if the pair of them are doing marginally better at holding a conversation with one another, they never...just spend time in one another's presence for the sake of it. And once the purpose of ensuring that Mizu won't simply pass out on the way to his secluded cabin is concluded... Mizu isn't one to linger in Vergil's experience.
The return of her sword relieves something sharp and jagged, but Mizu quickly finds herself no longer standing. That nearly has her hand reaching to draw her sword yet again based on pure instinct. It's Vergil, no one else, but Mizu opens her mouth in protest. To object to the idea she would have passed out. Her foot is healed, no longer bleeding and screaming in pain with each step. She could manage to walk to his apartment. Her face makes clear her opinion of this indignity. The strength to walk and the strength to free herself from Vergil's firm grip are two entirely different things.
It's not the first time Vergil's carried her, though usually Mizu is actually unconscious for the act. When someone's unconscious, it's simply necessary to carry them. Awake and alert enough to remember the act, Mizu finds it wholly different. "You forgot your jacket," Mizu says for lack of anything else to say. His hold is warm. The farther they get from the snow, no longer falling, the warmer it gets in the regular spring summer air. This indignity is simply the price of losing. Between the two of them, anyone would suspect she's the one who survived an explosive, not him.
Why must Vergil live in one of the most populous housing options? Mizu would rather not be carried at all, but worse that she's carried to his lodgings instead of her own. Rin lives there too and could see her. No matter how well she is when next they see each other, if Rin sees her so hurt, she'll worry. Nor is there any point in attempting to hide her identity. That will only draw attention. All in all, being carried is a terrible idea.
"Entirely unnecessary," Mizu murmurs under her breath. Never mind that it hurts to breath. She's survived worse. Yes she was unconscious for multiple days, and Ringo brought her home to swordfather, but she survived. Fine. Mizu suffers the indignity with what little pride she can manage. It isn't even the first time he's carried her today. It reminds her of the explosion, and the way Vergil sent his double, that winged tailed form, to shield her and set her gently on the ground. It makes no sense, less sense than now, even if he knew he couldn't be killed. That's not how fighting is supposed to work between opponents. He could have ended the fight much sooner if he'd held her close, forced her to take some of the damage.
If she were in a better state, Mizu would keep her mouth shut. Instead she mutters, "You don't make sense."
Despite the look Mizu levels at Vergil for the indignity of being carried, he remains undeterred. In fact, Vergil outright ignores the look and says nothing to most of Mizu's mutterings. The coat is ruined. So, there's no reason to take the time to collect it. Perhaps someone else—be it a Star Child or one of the native spirits—will find it and make some use out of it. Regardless, it's beyond Vergil's skills to salvage it and it serves little use for him now. And as for Mizu's judgment on what's necessary for his recovery? Vergil would deem it poor at best. So, there's no reason to entertain a debate about it. Especially when Vergil is already carrying him. What good is it to argue about something that is already happening? It's a waste of words and breath.
It's only Mizu's statement that he doesn't make any sense that garners Vergil's attention because the statement itself doesn't make any particular sense to him. He glances down at Mizu then, frowning a little before looking ahead once more. Although Vergil is willing to ignore the injury to Mizu's pride in being carried like this, he understands it. And by Vergil's measure with that understanding, it shouldn't seem so unusual or strange that Vergil would make certain he didn't slam into the cobblestone while trying to make his way to the train station or become buried beneath a hefty drift of snow before he could reach the safety of inside his cabin.
After their fights, Vergil has always seen to Mizu's recovery in some form or fashion. He's carried Mizu after beating him into unconsciousness, and stayed until he opened his eyes again. Vergil has always lingered long enough to see to it that Mizu tends to his injuries before leaving. And Vergil's already provided his explanation regarding that matter. He did so the very first time when Mizu balked at Vergil's insistence to make certain he tended to his wounds. Why should this time be any different than those that preceded them? Vergil's brow furrows a little further as he cannot find the difference.
"When have I ever abandoned you to bleed out after a fight?" he asks after a moment of silence.
As they make a proper approach to the apartment building, Vergil strays from the main thoroughfare. While he's been fortunate enough to have neighbors who tend to mind their own business, he's not particularly keen with the notion of carrying a bloodied human in his arms through the front door and chance running into someone on the way up. There will be needless questions and fussing that both Vergil and Mizu will find irritating if that should happen. Better to take the alleys between buildings sooner rather than later and aim for his balcony instead. He only lives on the second floor, and even with Mizu in his arms, he should be able to get enough height with a second jump off the side of the building itself.
Mizu rests her head against Vergil as he walks because there's little point in holding it up when he's holding the rest of her. Win or lose, this usually happens. It is only when they fight right near her home that she may get the dignity of walking herself inside under his supervision. Yet it would be a loss to fight Vergil in one environment only. The varied surroundings and conditions makes it more exciting and realistic. Even if it comes at this cost. Mizu suffers it. It's not like she has honor.
His question makes her blink, and Mizu turns her face up toward Vergil. While she would not have held anything against Vergil for leaving her to tend her own wounds, he's never been that way. He was the first guest, so to speak, she had when he waited in her main room while she tended to her injuries. Part of that vow not to kill each other, not during the fight nor afterward. Her mind is foggy enough it takes a couple moments to connect his question to her statement that he doesn't make sense. That comment wasn't for him. It wasn't about—
"Not that," Mizu says quietly. Held as she is, there isn't much a way to gesture. Though carrying her is unnecessary. She maintains that, and as he didn't permit her to prove she could walk, neither of them can say they are right with complete and utter certainty. Not that that will stop either of them from being certain.
"Earlier," Mizu clarifies, "with the explosive. I've done that before. A body is enough of a shield I lived, but you would have had an easier time beating me." It doesn't make sense. Even without pulling her toward the explosive and ensuring she likely died from it, Vergil could have taken advantage. He could have simply done nothing about her and let what happened happened. He didn't. He took multiple unnecessary actions to protect her, to minimize the harm she took. It did nothing to her.
Mizu wants to look away, but she refuses to be the coward. She watches Vergil as best she can from how she's held.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Either 5/6 or 5/13 because the week between doesn't exist
Then she throws up a hand to pause the fight. "Wait. Give me a few moments."
Mizu sheaths her sword, sits on the street cross-legged despite the fact that makes her want to whimper, and focuses her breathing into something approaching meditation. It is difficult with Vergil there and clearly intent on her, but Mizu has only practiced this new ability on minor injuries not worth healing save to verify that the ability exists. Her mind stills, and she imagines her leg whole and hale. A refreshing coolness passes through her, and she knows she is healed. Not only her leg, what she intended, but everything, every little thing.
Only then does she open her eyes and pay Vergil any mind. "What?" Mizu asks, fairly certain he said something.
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It's not what Vergil said. Even Mizu is liable to recognize that even without having fully attended to what Vergil said given the distinct lack of additional words.
Just before Mizu signaled to Vergil to pause their sparring with one another, Vergil had been on the fast approach. Even with the significant differences in their strength, he knows that if given an inch, Mizu will take a mile. Not following up a clean strike with more to keep Mizu on the move is a surefire way to ensure the other swordsman can take the lead on their fight. But Mizu threw up a hand and asked for Vergil to stop for the moment. So, Vergil came to a halt as quickly as he could, dropping his blade from his intended strike to something less offensive and regarded Mizu warily as Mizu sheathed his blade.
Vergil wouldn't necessarily acknowledge the reason for the furrow in his brow to be one of concern, but Mizu refuses to yield while he remains conscious never mind asking for a break. It merited asking if something was wrong. When there was no response to his question, Vergil placed Mirage Edge on his back and further closed the distance between them to stand before Mizu as the other swordsman seemingly sat there. Vergil canted his head slightly as the scent of blood on the air lessened and the little signs of injury that he could see with even just a cursory look at Mizu dissipated. He's tempted to get a closer look to be sure this isn't some sort of trick, but he remains rooted to the spot where he stands instead and provides his single word response.
"Not exactly a useful in the heat of battle," he says less as a criticism and more trying to puzzle out the reason for it. Mizu always seemed more driven to push his skill and talents based on his natural power. Perhaps even pushing beyond that with how Vergil has had to be so firm with the rule that Mizu must be more or less fully recovered before they spar again after each fight. Vergil's eyes narrow slightly as he scrutinizes Mizu a bit further. His gaze is sharp enough that it wouldn't be out of the question to feel like he was already puzzling out the answer to his questions already by staring into some part of Mizu where said answer lies. He's not a mind reader though, and he ends up asking bluntly. "You haven't expressed interest in power like this before. Why?"
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"No, it's not useful in battle," Mizu agrees. She supposes like any skill it might be improved with training and experience. That will come in time. However, she did not gain the ability in order to use it in the heat of battle. She doesn't want to beat Vergil because she has this ability. That would be cheap and meaningless to her. It won't do anything for her at home, for her when she leaves this place or so she assumes. She must be ready for the conditions under which she can seek her revenge. The same way she is receiving training for combat without weapons, she must improve her skills at combat without abilities.
She sighs a little and shrugs, as though it's no important matter. "I grew tired of waiting so long between our bouts," Mizu says, "We have no guarantee of how long we will be here. I need to improve as much as possible in the time I am here."
Being injured itself doesn't bother her, certainly not enough to ask Thirteen for an ability around it. Mizu's been injured in a myriad of ways more times than she can count. She would fight Vergil injured if he let her. She needs to improve at fighting while injured. Starting injured. She gets plenty of experience fighting him with injuries sustained during their sparring. Certainly, if he enjoys it half as much as she does, Vergil would want to fight more frequently. It's possible someone else here can heal her as quickly and as easily, but what that entails, even if it is only asking someone else for help, is less desirable to Mizu than handling it herself.
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Rather than discussing the potential limits of Mizu's new ability and the implications therein, he says, "If you hunger for defeat that greatly, who am I to deny you?"
It's reasonable to question the limits considering even Vergil's ability—which arguably has more utility considering that what would be a fatal injury can prove otherwise instantly and without thought—has its limits. Until they know how frequently Mizu can heal himself and how severe the injuries can be before they outpace the ability, it's best that they keep experimentation with it a bit limited and concentrated. And Vergil doesn't really trust that Mizu is necessarily thinking of his ability in those terms. Not when he's yet to witness a limit to Vergil's own healing ability and with his own hardheadedness to simply throw himself forward in pursuit of his goals as much as possible.
But it made Mizu smile. And regardless of potential limits, there won't be weeks between their sparring any longer. So, Vergil doesn't need to be the voice of reason all the time even if he's maintaining it privately. He doesn't need to take a happy moment when there are likely so few for Mizu, and crush it beneath his heel. He can let it be and just tease Mizu instead. Even if on the surface it doesn't necessarily sound like he's teasing.
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So losing to Vergil before. Today. Tomorrow. A hundred times. That is not defeat. Those are stepping stones to her victory, to her triumph, not only to her revenge but to getting the better of him. It will happen. Mizu will make it happen, no matter how hard she has to train or how many injuries she must heal. She will defeat him before she returns home and carry that memory with her as well.
Mizu draws her sword and returns to a proper starting position. "You will eat those words," Mizu declares. Her commitment, her focus, everything is on this moment. On winning this time, not that far off someday. Each day, each fight, she believes it's possible. Perhaps not in a fair manner, but Mizu cares nothing for honor. Other men may die with their honor. She'd rather live. Kill.
She springs forward, aggressive and precise and quick. As quick as her slender form allows. A bit quicker than humanly possible, for she is a Myth, but not so much it's obvious, not so much Mizu notices.
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Vergil had come quite close after Mizu put a pause to their spar to test his new ability. So, the distance is shorter than when they typically begin to clash blades, but Vergil is no less prepared to receive the other swordsman when he surges forward for his attack. He draws Mirage Edge and parries Mizu's strikes. Those that he cannot, he dodges. Mizu is faster than a baseline human—his Myth abilities see to that—but he's still not quick enough to best Vergil's own natural speed, leaving his blade to strike a false afterimage instead. Eventually, Vergil seeks to put a little distance so that he can reclaim the tempo for himself once again.
On Mizu's next strike, he locks their blades together and twists, driving their blades towards the ground with the intention of wedging Mizu's blade into the loose cobblestone. With his considerable strength, Vergil could leave Mizu without his blade entirely for the remainder of their sparring, but he's not interested in that fight today. Mizu should be able to yank it free with his own strength. He's more interested in creating leverage as he uses Mizu like a springboard, kicking off the other man to both free his blade and try to part Mizu from his own.
Vergil doesn't give Mizu the luxury of recovery time from the sudden foot to his gut, and even if he's not freeing Mizu of his blade for the remainder of the fight doesn't mean that he's simply going to allow the other swordsman to pluck it from the ground without any resistance. Summoned blades appear from above Mizu like a bed of nails, hanging in the air only long enough for them to form before they rain down upon him. Mizu should be familiar enough with them by now to know Vergil's formation of them is tight. Gaps between the blades are present, but the speed at which they fall makes purely dodging into those gaps without cutting a few of the out of the air as they fall near impossible. Being struck by them is also a poor outcome not just for their initial injuries but because they seem to cause whatever they strike to move so slowly they almost appear to come to a standstill. If they strike their target, Mizu is vulnerable to Vergil's follow-up swing of Mirage Edge.
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It's not graceful. Mizu moves to fling her sword backward. First, the tip travels between the gap of two stones. Vergil forces the breath out of her chest, and that movement speeds the sword with greater force. It releases from her hand and embeds into the wall of the building behind her. That leaves it stuck farther away from Vergil, but that's not what Mizu meant to do. Nor the first time her sword's gotten stuck somewhere. No time for frustration, however.
Bare handed, Mizu throws herself to the side, rolling and dodging away from the forest of blades. Even the castle she invaded didn't go to the expense of making so many swords and rods come out of the walls and ceilings, but those would have to be made, not summoned at their convenience. Quick to return to a standing position, Mizu blocks the follow up attack with her wrist. The sword slices through her sleeve, but it comes up against solid steel, not muscle and bone, beneath it. Yet Mizu wishes to hold that contest of strength even less than that with swords. She moves past Vergil, running right toward the wall, to spring up it, compress, and shoot back across the alley toward her sword. Which, supposing she gets it, allows her to return to balance and even attack.
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Mizu swiftly moves behind Vergil, and the half-demon tracks the other swordsman as he uses the wall to reach his destination. It's the safer option, of course. The alternative would be putting his back to Vergil, and that wouldn't end well for Mizu. Not that there isn't still the opportunity to cut Mizu down out of the air, but Vergil chooses not to go that route. Instead, he offers a minor complication to Mizu's landing.
As Mizu speeds toward his sword, Vergil reverses his grip on Mirage Edge. He slashes the air twice in rapid succession. Two vertical bands of energy emerge that would form an X if perfectly overlayed with one another, following the arc of Mirage Edge's strikes out forward and far beyond Vergil's reach. They travel significantly faster than the horizontal band that Vergil needs time to form, making them likewise significantly faster than Mizu in the air. But the point isn't for them to land upon the swordsman's person so much as to create some impediment to cleanly grabbing his blade. Thus, they tear at the cobblestone beneath, launching rock, earth, and gravel as they cut through the ground and eventually scar the wall beside Mizu's sword rather than on the blade itself. (The last thing Vergil needs or wants to do, after all, is break Mizu's blade and put an end to their contest so soon.) It's nothing that should truly hinder Mizu from collecting his blade, but there may be a few bumps and bruises for his troubles. With a skillful twirl of the blade in his hand, Vergil changes his grip back to normal.
Drawing back for a moment, Vergil meets Mizu's attack with a thrust of his own. In doing so, he covers the several feet of distance between them easily with the single motion rather than any steps. There's enough momentum behind it that regardless of whether Mirage Edge buries itself in Mizu or simply collides with Mizu's blade, the pair of them will likely find themselves moving in that same direction upon contact for a little while longer. Even with Mizu putting up resistance, there's little slowing Vergil's momentum, and Mizu may find it slightly disorienting with Vergil moving both of them at seemingly the same speed as his teleports as it's not just Vergil's afterimage that trails behind them. Which really was the point more than hoping for injury. His follow-up strike is with the intention of sending Mizu into the air. But rather than following Mizu up there himself if he's successful, Vergil will instead wind up and hurl Mirage Edge after him, the blade spinning like a potentially deadly top.
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It's one of those moments where time seems to slow, except time slowing doesn't even return their movements to a normal human speed. Mizu sets aside that issue as the facts of the matter. It shouldn't be surprising, and Mizu trusts instead that the sense of danger comes from something more than the reminder Vergil can move (them) very quickly. Her eyes run over her surroundings, and Mizu spots a chimney rising out of the opposite building. Her hand reaches inside to pull on a supply of thin solid rope that is part of her expanded inventory thanks to Thirteen's sense of whimsy. It also benefits her here.
The strike sends her upward, and Mizu throws the looped end of the rope across toward the chimney. It reaches it, barely large enough, and threatens to come back off. By that time, Mirage Edge whirls toward her, and Mizu sacrifices precious time to let the rope settle before jerking it to pull herself partly out of the way of the blade. There's little time to consider. Mizu curls up her body and holds her sword at a defensive angle. The sword scrapes against hers, and the power behind it reverberates up her arm. It continues to spin. The next spin it hits steel wrapped around her ankle. The third hits the bottom of her shoe, slicing through it and into her foot.
Mizu slams against the roof and forces herself into a standing position. Even if she could heal herself quickly then and there, she wouldn't. Blood stains the roof below her foot, and Mizu motions for Vergil to follow her. Come along. It's warmer than Mizu would prefer, but she ignores that, centers herself, and attacks Vergil the moment he comes up.
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It's not just Vergil that lands on the roof. He leaps into the air higher than any man could on his own before jumping off the wall to give himself the additional height. It's enough to clear the building—it only a modest two-storey building—but he doesn't come to land down on the tiles just yet. Vergil teleports himself even higher and further out of reach, hanging in the air a moment before his clone manifests with a movement of his arm. With a nod of his head, Vergil sends the clone ahead of himself. The demonic spectre races forward, drawing its blade for an overhead attack to meet Mizu while Vergil safely lands on the roof.
It's two against one, but Vergil isn't a fool. He knows he won't win by numbers alone with Mizu. The swordsman has previous expertly handled contending with twin attacks from both Vergil and his doppelganger even if the spectral version of Vergil has come at his behest rather than Mizu's victory over it. And he wouldn't expect anything different. Even if Mizu were more dissimilar when it comes to his solitude during a fight, he is always mindful of his environment and that includes the presence of others.
Once again, Vergil surges forward with his blade. This time when he finds Mizu, he stabs rapidly again and again and again and again while his clone maintains the more practiced forms of cuts and slashes. If he was attacking in a more lethal manner, Vergil would be even faster with his stabs. It would likely be hundreds of wounds before Mizu could finish drawing and releasing a steady breath. But he holds himself back enough that Mizu still has a shot at defending himself from Vergil's attacks while not making it a guarantee with his attention needing to be split between two half-demon.
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Based off the attacks they make, Mizu uses her weapon to force greater distance between her and the distraction. Were it only a guarantee she could steal Vergil's blade from him by anchoring it in her body, she would. However, that sword is no regular sword, and even should he lose his grip on it, he could call it back to himself and leave her with dreadful bleeding, worse than that coming from her foot, for the foolish move. Equally, buying space from Vergil is only a move that helps in a moment while sacrificing so much more.
Perhaps her choice is no less foolish. Mizu steps between them and thrusts the end of her naginata against the double to propel herself all the faster toward Vergil. She twists in the air to avoid his latest attack with only partial success as they move quickly together. Pain burns along her torso where she cuts herself against the edge. It doesn't matter. Mizu already pulls an explosive out, using her teeth to start the process. The wick burns down as she comes closer to Vergil. She stabs it into his armpit, set to use him to shield her from the worst of it. He may not be so large as the giant of a man she faced, but he's harder to kill. Though it's not like she's stabbing him in the neck with it.
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Once safely landed, Mizu is released and set down gently. The clone doesn't linger, however. By the time Mizu's on his feet, the blast has already come and gone, leaving dust and smoke in its wake. Having enacted the will of its master, the clone dissipates into wisps of its own blue smoke akin to Mirage Edge when it's dismissed.
Vergil's own landing is much less smooth than Mizu. The blast is blinding in both light and the pain it inspires and Vergil's world spins as he's lifted off the rooftop. Despite his grip, Mirage Edge falls from his hand somewhere along the way, although he couldn't rightly say where it ends up. He barely has any sense of where he is, only that he bounces and strikes and skids before he comes to wherever it is he's landed. He's only aware of the scent of burnt flesh and blood, his eyes stinging, and a maddening, deafening ring in his ears afterward.
His next breaths are raspy and wet, the taste of copper in the back of his throat. Vergil's vision swims as he sits up, the ground trying to become his walls and sky. The most he can make sense of is that the building stands between him and Mizu if his clone was successful, if he held onto his concentration for it long enough. It's of little consequence though if the shooting, hot pain in his side is any indication. Vergil blindly reaches around until his fingertips graze the chunk of shrapnel that's embedded itself into him. It takes a moment for him to get a proper grip. He has to close his eyes to shut out his still correcting vision before he can, but it at least gives him a moment to steady his breath first. Unlike removing the sword from his hand, Vergil isn't quite so quiet. A blade is a smooth edge. Shrapnel is significantly less so. What starts as a grunt and growl eventually tears out a howl of pain as it loosens and dislodges from the half-devil. He quiets down quickly enough though once it's removed.
Throwing it aside, Vergil tucks his legs beneath him and breaths through the discomfort as his body repairs the wound. Each breath is less raspy than the last and eventually, Vergil spits the blood from his mouth. He holds out a slightly shaky hand, and Mirage Edge returns to him from wherever it was sent. This time, the force of its return has a bit of an effect and Vergil must steady himself before he can use Mirage Edge as leverage.
Vergil rises once more to his feet. There's a slight sway for just a moment as he's still slightly hunched over, using the sword more as a cane than anything else. Like a newborn fawn or calf, he takes an unsteady half-step in his initial attempt to right himself. But after a pause, Vergil rights himself properly and he's firmly planted back to the ground once he does. Despite the cuts and scrapes, and the blossoming bruise to the side of his face, he would appear no worse for wear in the end.
With his significant injuries more or less done healing, he looks for Mizu, assuming that the swordsman went looking for Vergil for one reason or another.
When their eyes meet, he says, "I can still fight."
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In the end, Mizu cannot see the explosion itself or what happens to Vergil. Her view is blocked, and Mizu struggles against the thing that looks like Vergil but isn't to do so. It doesn't work. They land, and it sets her down with gentleness she doesn't deserve. Mizu would demand answers of it except it disappears. Mizu's heart thumps hard in her chest. Did she get it wrong? Did she kill Vergil? Cross the single line they agreed not to cross, the line it's felt impossible for her to cross with what she's currently capable of. She did not strike it into his head or neck, for concern that might go too far, or use the wire she carries to try to decapitate him. Reasonable limits, Mizu thought.
Walking hurts, both because of the wound to her foot and the fresh slice into her flesh. It matters not at all. With her weapon to stabilize her, she moves quickly around the building they were just atop. Vergil did not land back in the street with her, so he must be somewhere else. She cannot easily reach the top, so she first will check the entire perimeter. Something releases in her when she sees him breathing. Little as Mizu generally cares about honor or lying to others, she's glad she hasn't made so much a mistake that Vergil pays for. He looks worse than she expected. In another moment, he straightens and looks much better, though Mizu cannot tell if that is his healing or his pride.
Other minor injuries remain, something Mizu expects of most people but not of Vergil. It should be a thrill of success, a mark of progress to wound him enough that something sticks. Though Mizu marks the knowledge, the way she remembers everything that could help her, she would call the fight there if—
A pleased smile crosses Mizu's face at his words, so similar to her own time and time again. Mizu returns her sword to its state and wraps herself in her steel guards, a quick movement despite the pain. "As can I," Mizu assures him.
Not that she used the break, the pause, to heal. Her mind was nothing close to calm. With the same respect she expects from him when she says those words, Mizu shrugs back her shoulders, returns to a good stance, and flies forward. Curiosity as well drives her. She returns to the technique of attacks of attrition, those designed to wound and to slow him down. Before, they'd do nothing, but Mizu needs to know whether that is still the case.
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So, she doesn't need to land strikes to wound and slow him down. As it is, he's already slowed down relative to normal. As ready as Vergil is to fight again and as much as he still holds his own seemingly easily enough with what he's been reduced to relying upon, it's more an illusion of being hardly worse for wear than the truth. An injury such as the one Mizu bestowed upon him with the grenade takes a bit of time for Vergil to recuperate from the expenditure of demonic energy to heal. Never mind using his clone to bring Mizu to safety just moments before. It serves as evidence that for Vergil, it's not just his abilities or raw strength that define his skill. He has a sharp mind and is attuned deeply to the rhythm and flow of their sparring that he doesn't need to move at a speed faster than Mizu can track with his eyes to avoid being sliced.
But before Mizu can find any potential comfort in the evidence that Vergil has slowed a bit, Vergil starts to gradually find his second wind. As Vergil focuses less on the dull throb of his side as the last of the injury truly heals, and more on predicting Mizu's next move, Mirage Edge slowly begins to glow brighter again. The more they clash, the greater the distance from the spectral blade to its afterimage. Mizu gets a strike past Vergil's defenses as he sometimes tends to, but rather than finding Vergil stumbling back or faltering, Vergil doesn't hesitate and attempts to exploit the inherent vulnerability in landing a strike by returning one to Mizu. He ignores the pain in his side, the wound healing just as quickly as it always does, to follow up regardless of whether he lands one strike after the next or not.
He's more than a little determined not to lose.
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Mizu presses hard, despite the blood starting to soak into her clothes and the blood marking her steps on the ground as they move over and over again. He also heals. Slower. But heals. Vergil finds no reason to wait to heal himself (or perhaps it is not choice but fact). Mizu fails to take necessary advantage of Vergil's weakness, though she notes how long it takes Vergil to recover. Should she would him so severely in the future, she knows the length of her window. Her teeth grind, but Mizu has no time to ponder on that reaction. Not in the middle of combat.
Her sword finds purchase, dealing lasting damage to Vergil's clothes but no more. She twists to avoid his attack. The move avoids Mirage Edge itself, but the flow of their movements pushes her into the afterimage. A small grimace as she earns yet another injury. Honestly, someone could guess she's the one who got too close to a grenade with these injuries she's building up. Despite it, Mizu blocks the next attack and the next, though the pain in her foot makes it harder to hold the proper footwork. Her sandal is damaged, and her foot slips on the blood when she stays in place too long.
Clearly, everything is as normal. Vergil. Her. Nothing changed but the firmness of their determination. It starts to snow around them on the previously clear day. Mizu thinks little of it, when it is likely due to the fox spirit. A few flakes then more. Mizu takes a step back to grab a handful of snow out of the air and rub it across her face. Its coolness brings her back to her senses. Vergil's fine. She's... fine enough. The pain fades from her focus and attention, and Mizu attacks with excellent technique despite her injuries. Fast and hard, even going for the point of impact from the explosion, should it be a sensitive spot.
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He's impressed with Mizu. Consistently, he's impressed with Mizu. It's almost enough to make Vergil wonder if perhaps even with his improved appreciation for humans if perhaps he is still a little too harsh on his opinions. But that's unlikely the case, he thinks. Mizu is just simply...remarkable. He pushes through pain. He maintains technique and form far beyond what should be reasonable. Perhaps really the only criticism Vergil can offer is in his willingness to throw his life away in pursuit of his goal. It would be more than a little hypocritical, of course, with everything that Vergil had once discarded for the sake of power, but it doesn't make it any less true. Vergil has seen it time and time again. Technique eventually frays giving way to a more base, animalistic instinct. As though killing Vergil bears the same importance as each breath he draws for his continued existence. He bleeds and bleeds and bleeds, and no drop of it seems to serve a discouragement or a push to yield for Mizu.
So, he's remarkable. But he's a remarkable fool.
Vergil's side isn't as tender by the time Mizu attempts to exploit it for his gain. There's no loss of control or form, nor any attempt to retreat and withdraw, but it's one of the rare times that Vergil makes a sound when struck by Mizu. He grits his teeth hard, jaw clenched as he tries to suppress the noise. He's successful insomuch that it does not carry far beyond them, but Mizu will have surely heard it regardless of his efforts. He strikes back not with Mirage Edge, but with his fist to Mizu's jaw to knock him back. It's not hard to see why as Vergil wants the space as he summons swords around Mizu. They spin around the other swordsman much like the spiral Vergil tends to summon to make space for himself. But rather than pointing outward in a protective formation as they would when circling Vergil, they point toward Mizu. They'll only hover a moment before Vergil wills them to stop and converge upon the center point that Mizu happens to occupy. Whether they pierce their target or Mizu is successful in deflecting them all and breaking them before they strike, Vergil leaps at him with an overhead swing to follow up.
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Had she the time, Mizu would give Vergil a look that conveys exactly what she thinks of moves like this. However, the numerous sharp pointed objects rain down toward her in less time than that would take. The pain she is in is nothing. Mizu moves toward one side, sweeping those blades aside first in the small time that buys her from the rest. Her sword continues moving, and Mizu—fuck the lesson about the disadvantage in going to the floor—drops in a roll to the ground as her sword sweeps aside the rest.
Well. Almost all the rest.
One sword deflects but not far enough. It pierces her arm. Mizu cries out in frustration, and pain, even as she continues to roll back to standing. No time to concern herself with the latest injury because Vergil attacks again. There's no time for anything but to block the blow while redirecting it away from her. The force of his attack reverberates through her, and her body frees itself of yet more blood as a consequence. His strike need not land to wound her. Even so much costs her dearly. A moment most people might consider the right time to concede.
Instead, Mizu moves in and, despite her body's protests, switches to a one handed grip on her sword. She reaches for Vergil's arm, to use to pull herself in and, though it likely will not land, skewer him from the side with her sword. Defeat is for those who accept it.
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Thus, it hits like a gale from a storm and Vergil is engulfed in a blue light similar to that of his spectral manifestations, blasting outward in the blink of an eye in a wide radius that sends snow flying out and forcing back Mizu's blade before it can hit its target. If Mizu manages to hold on tight enough to Vergil that he's merely lifted by the transformation rather than thrown, he'll find in place of smooth skin to be scales akin to that of a reptile beneath his hand. Despite the reptilian armor though, Vergil runs feverishly hot like this, albeit none of the infernal energy exhausting from his horns or arms burns to the touch. It's the clone Mizu has seen time and time again made truly real and solid albeit without the Yamato sheathed.
Vergil's tail lashes behind him.
If Mizu thought Vergil was quick and strong before, he is about to have a much truer demonstration of Vergil's demonic power.
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The fact he gets an additional limb in the form of a tail is absolutely unfair. The name of the game the whole time they've sparred, however, so sure. Of course it's Vergil. Mizu bets that new skin is tougher than before. Harder to pierce or slash. Her job's never been easy, and she wouldn't enjoy fighting Vergil if it were.
Unfortunately, while Vergil's grown stronger and faster, Mizu's strength quavers. Her wounds are numerous, and the blood loss makes it harder to stay on her feet. Her stubbornness carries her far, but her attacks are weaker, her movements sluggish, and her vision going dark around the edges. Still, he'll have to remove her sword and prove his win to get it.
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It won't be much longer. Vergil is certain of it. Either he claims Mizu's sword or he simply passes out again from his injuries. There are no alternatives at this point.
He'd like to try to for the former if at all possible and give Mizu the opportunity to heal from his injuries. But if it ends up the latter... Well, Vergil's apartment isn't far and Mizu isn't particularly heavy even with his weights on his ankles and wrists.
Mizu strikes out again and their blades meet, gliding along the edge of one another until they meet one another's guards. A clawed hand comes to the dull side of Mizu's blade and leverages it downward to start creating an uncomfortable twist of Mizu's wrists to maintain a hold on it. As he begins to twist the blade into this position, Vergil dismisses Mirage Edge so that he can more freely grab the hilt and fully wrench it from Mizu's hands. If he's successful, he leaps back with a teleport, poised Mizu's katana in his right hand, and Mirage Edge once again manifested albeit in his left hand. If he's not able to wrestle the katana away, he turns quickly and manifesting Mirage Edge, he drives the pommel as hard as he can behind himself and toward Mizu's center with enough force that in his condition, he should be sent tumbling to the ground.
"That's enough."
While in this form, it's still recognizably Vergil's voice. But there's an inhuman quality to it. Despite being in the open, his voice almost sounds as though it is reverberating, layering over itself.
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His voice cuts through it, even as she starts to step toward him. Were they fighting to the death, she would carry on. She's faced dozens of men before, starting without a weapon. Her state would not deter her. With Vergil, however, Mizu can acknowledge there's no further victory at this point. Her steps lead her not toward him but the nearest wall. Mizu turns to lean against it and slowly, with as much control as she can muster, slide down.
Her knees jut up before her torso, and that brings a large wince as it pulls at the long slice across her body. Despite the blood flowing freely from one arm, Mizu physically rearranges her legs to sit cross legged. Blood soaks the snow around her. Indeed so much of the snow is red, it's striking. The color she associates with other people, not herself. Blue is her color. Her mind's wandering when Mizu needs it to focus. She grabs a large handful of clean white snow and holds it against her face. A painful shiver runs through her, but it clears her mind. Mizu feels more herself. More centered. For however long that lasts, she has to focus and meditate. Her eyes close, and Mizu focuses on the lessons swordfather gave her. His voice runs through her mind, a comfort, and her attention turns toward her new ability. To heal herself.
It is harder than any time before, the minor practice before today and even when she healed her leg. Her injuries are worse, and her ability to focus lessened. Something happens, but Mizu nearly passes out during it, her exhaustion so great. She straightens her spine forcefully, winces at the pain that still brings, and admits that what she can do that moment is over. Mizu runs over the sensation of her injuries. Her foot no longer hurts. That wound is healed. The rest, she cannot tell if there is any improvement.
Mizu groans and moves to stand again. The pain is nothing new, and she has looked after herself a long time.
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Vergil waits patiently for Mizu to be done, idly running through a few kata with Mizu's sword to keep himself occupied. For being a blade pulled from a book, it's not terrible. It's balanced and he knows well enough the edge is sharp and clean. But it's not the Yamato. Vergil doesn't have a chance to ruminate upon that, however, as he's interrupted by Mizu attempting to stand on his own. He rolls his eyes slightly before narrowing his stance once more. Walking over, he returns Mizu his blade, allowing him to sheathe it for himself. Vergil anticipates protest and struggle, so the katana barely has a moment to click back into its scabbard before Vergil bends down and scoops Mizu up off his feet.
Despite the swiftness of the movement, Vergil is at least careful of potentially still open wounds on Mizu's person. He's certain that it's Mizu's uninjured arm that's against him, and while it's a firm hold, it's not crushing and potentially putting pressure on any slashes that might remain along Mizu's side.
"You take more than a few steps and you're going to pass out," he says, providing an explanation for the sudden bridal carry. Vergil's tone likely implies that he doesn't particularly care the implications of this for Mizu's pride regardless of the apparent hypocrisy. Vergil begins carrying Mizu off in the direction of his apartment building. "You can rest at my apartment. If you wish to leave after you've regained enough strength to manage returning to your home on your own, you may."
It will likely only be an hour or two. Long enough for perhaps a small amount of sleep and some food, and Mizu should be steadier on his feet. Perhaps even possess the ability to heal more of his injuries before he goes. Regardless, Vergil doesn't imagine that Mizu will stay for longer than that. Even if the pair of them are doing marginally better at holding a conversation with one another, they never...just spend time in one another's presence for the sake of it. And once the purpose of ensuring that Mizu won't simply pass out on the way to his secluded cabin is concluded... Mizu isn't one to linger in Vergil's experience.
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It's not the first time Vergil's carried her, though usually Mizu is actually unconscious for the act. When someone's unconscious, it's simply necessary to carry them. Awake and alert enough to remember the act, Mizu finds it wholly different. "You forgot your jacket," Mizu says for lack of anything else to say. His hold is warm. The farther they get from the snow, no longer falling, the warmer it gets in the regular spring summer air. This indignity is simply the price of losing. Between the two of them, anyone would suspect she's the one who survived an explosive, not him.
Why must Vergil live in one of the most populous housing options? Mizu would rather not be carried at all, but worse that she's carried to his lodgings instead of her own. Rin lives there too and could see her. No matter how well she is when next they see each other, if Rin sees her so hurt, she'll worry. Nor is there any point in attempting to hide her identity. That will only draw attention. All in all, being carried is a terrible idea.
"Entirely unnecessary," Mizu murmurs under her breath. Never mind that it hurts to breath. She's survived worse. Yes she was unconscious for multiple days, and Ringo brought her home to swordfather, but she survived. Fine. Mizu suffers the indignity with what little pride she can manage. It isn't even the first time he's carried her today. It reminds her of the explosion, and the way Vergil sent his double, that winged tailed form, to shield her and set her gently on the ground. It makes no sense, less sense than now, even if he knew he couldn't be killed. That's not how fighting is supposed to work between opponents. He could have ended the fight much sooner if he'd held her close, forced her to take some of the damage.
If she were in a better state, Mizu would keep her mouth shut. Instead she mutters, "You don't make sense."
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It's only Mizu's statement that he doesn't make any sense that garners Vergil's attention because the statement itself doesn't make any particular sense to him. He glances down at Mizu then, frowning a little before looking ahead once more. Although Vergil is willing to ignore the injury to Mizu's pride in being carried like this, he understands it. And by Vergil's measure with that understanding, it shouldn't seem so unusual or strange that Vergil would make certain he didn't slam into the cobblestone while trying to make his way to the train station or become buried beneath a hefty drift of snow before he could reach the safety of inside his cabin.
After their fights, Vergil has always seen to Mizu's recovery in some form or fashion. He's carried Mizu after beating him into unconsciousness, and stayed until he opened his eyes again. Vergil has always lingered long enough to see to it that Mizu tends to his injuries before leaving. And Vergil's already provided his explanation regarding that matter. He did so the very first time when Mizu balked at Vergil's insistence to make certain he tended to his wounds. Why should this time be any different than those that preceded them? Vergil's brow furrows a little further as he cannot find the difference.
"When have I ever abandoned you to bleed out after a fight?" he asks after a moment of silence.
As they make a proper approach to the apartment building, Vergil strays from the main thoroughfare. While he's been fortunate enough to have neighbors who tend to mind their own business, he's not particularly keen with the notion of carrying a bloodied human in his arms through the front door and chance running into someone on the way up. There will be needless questions and fussing that both Vergil and Mizu will find irritating if that should happen. Better to take the alleys between buildings sooner rather than later and aim for his balcony instead. He only lives on the second floor, and even with Mizu in his arms, he should be able to get enough height with a second jump off the side of the building itself.
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His question makes her blink, and Mizu turns her face up toward Vergil. While she would not have held anything against Vergil for leaving her to tend her own wounds, he's never been that way. He was the first guest, so to speak, she had when he waited in her main room while she tended to her injuries. Part of that vow not to kill each other, not during the fight nor afterward. Her mind is foggy enough it takes a couple moments to connect his question to her statement that he doesn't make sense. That comment wasn't for him. It wasn't about—
"Not that," Mizu says quietly. Held as she is, there isn't much a way to gesture. Though carrying her is unnecessary. She maintains that, and as he didn't permit her to prove she could walk, neither of them can say they are right with complete and utter certainty. Not that that will stop either of them from being certain.
"Earlier," Mizu clarifies, "with the explosive. I've done that before. A body is enough of a shield I lived, but you would have had an easier time beating me." It doesn't make sense. Even without pulling her toward the explosive and ensuring she likely died from it, Vergil could have taken advantage. He could have simply done nothing about her and let what happened happened. He didn't. He took multiple unnecessary actions to protect her, to minimize the harm she took. It did nothing to her.
Mizu wants to look away, but she refuses to be the coward. She watches Vergil as best she can from how she's held.
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