[He whistles as he scans the gym. Despite the place oozing the same dreary atmosphere as every other building in this sad excuse for a ghost town, there's a fair amount of movement happening in here. An instructor and pupil duke it out on the other side of the room, drawing Masaomi's curious gaze. The dulled clanks of their slow-motion combat practice color Jason's explanation.

Masaomi chuckles under his breath, shaking his head before finally peeling his focus away from the fight.]

Yeah, I don't think I'm really cut out for any of them either.

[What muscle the young teen has managed to amass is lean at best. He could train for ten years and never properly wield a bulky arm like a mace or ax. Something lighter would be a better match for him and his speedy reflexes. He's managed some beautiful devastation with a crowbar in the past, and seeing all these weapons strewn around him, he's tempted to say as much. But he'd rather appear like a complete novice for now. Normal high school students don't bash people's heads in with crowbars.]

So is this your round-about way of saying you are good with swords and knives?