For this expedition Kai had chosen to forgo his usual layers, instead only slipping his waistcoat over his otherwise bare torso; letting it hang open to his waist. In certain circles long-healed scars and a dizzying array of tattoos were more effective camouflage than his usual shapeless shirts.
Not exactly practical for a ninja- flesh shines in a way that soft fabric never does- but thus far it seemed to have the intended effect. Though he'd been protected from the rougher side of mercenary life by Mio as they'd grown up together, Kai was recognisable nontheless as not a soft touch. Well, he thought of his lightened purse irritably, not as soft a touch as some, anyway.
He stood slightly to the right and front of Shari, mostly so if things went asswards he'd be able to move freely even if restricted to invisibility to stab the shit out of anyone he needed to, knowing that behind her he would be vastly less effective than if he could move to flank anyone she was fighting.
As was he listened to her talk to the shopkeeper offhandedly, his eyes running over the small room for anything of possible note, though always returning to the Oni. They'd encountered too many of these brutes lately, and Kai was beginning to get incredibly wary of coincidences.