Big almost fell out of his seat. "Holy crap," he and Little yelped in unison. But when Big said: "Where the hell did you come from?," Little fumbled a bill out of his wallet and said: "Here’s ten; take it off!"
Sakura glanced back and forth between the two. She stood up and, in the process, made Little’s money disappear from his fingers. Then she smiled at Big.
"I’m from Japan," she told him. "You might say I’m classically trained in the art of assassination." Then she undid the sash of her robe and let it slip off her shoulders. It fluttered down to the ground, showing off everything she’d let the manager see earlier.
…which happened to be quite a lot, because instead of being naked under her bathrobe, Sakura was heavily armed.
The bodysuit she wore was cut off above her knees and elbows, and had a wide, deep neckline that insured it could be hidden under a simple bathrobe. The rest – scores of shuriken bandoliered about her waist, coiled kusurai chains, daggers strapped to her thighs, vials of poison, a set of climbing claws that were strapped around her upper arm and even a short, double edged sword – could only be explained by the fact that she really was just as good a ninja as she claimed to be. And master ninjas can hide anything.
"So," she said once she judged the shocked silence had lingered long enough. "Shall we do business?"