"That's the spirit! Rock on!" Demyx flashed a thumbs up at Kousyxe before taking to his sitar again. This tune isn't too different, but still--there's a sharp syncopated beat designed to be jarring, now, as bubbles flood the air and whirl around them. They coalesce into three more clones, no different than the first set, save for their intentions. Two back off immediately, circling wide to try and keep out of range, all the better to flank Kousyxe and dart in to exploit any openings he left.

The other one, though? That rushed Kousyxe as soon as it formed, swinging its sitar in a tight arc at his head to go for the biggest advantage it could get from the element of surprise. There was a lot more give and take this time around, more for Kousyxe to pay attention to and keep track of, more that he needed to care about and react to appropriately as he learned and adapted on the fly. The stakes weren't exactly dire, but they were still there; his constructs might have been water, but they still packed enough force that each blow would be about equivalent to a hard punch from a normal person.

Yes, even the music notes, small as they were. As quick and erratic as those were liable to be, he was probably going to need to learn the value of a good solid blocking technique, if not a strong counter-attack.