You entertain a momentary impulse to stay and watch Cordelia's first fight, but decide that it would be better not to give the appearance of rudeness by deliberately being late to your own match.
"Briar," you say softly, as you head towards the ring, "would you mind going to cheer on Cordy?"
"Hmmm. Well, alright - but you'd better not lose while I'm away, mister, or I'll get Cordelia to help me mock you."
"I'll consider myself forewarned," you murmur as your smallest friend flies off. A few more steps carry you into the ring, where your opponent's confident expression momentarily falters as he looks up towards your face.
"Um," the other boy says slowly, in Japanese that's almost as bad as your own. "Wow. What've you been eatin', and where can I get some?"
"Mostly American take-out and microwave dinners," you reply honestly. Your Dad can't cook, and while your mother is decent in the kitchen, she's generally too busy with work and minding two active kids to manage home-cooked meals except on weekends and holidays. A typical Harris family dinner starts with a phone call.
"Really? Huh. Might have to give that a shot." The boy pauses and gives a hasty bow. "Oh, uh, I'm-"
WILD COLT: SAOTOME RANMA
"-of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts."
You blink at the name of his style, and then return the bow. "Alexander Harris, of the Lu School of Five Elements Martial Arts."
It's Ranma's turn to blink. "Don't think I know that one," he says as he assumes a very relaxed stance that's full of obvious openings.
"Fair enough," you reply, settling into your own starting stance. "I'm not familiar with your school, either."
He shrugs, and before either of you can say anything else, the attendant barks, "BEGIN!"