Washington DC!

Washington DC very big city.

I am heisting from Smithsonian! Freer + Sackler Galleries. I am going after pots. You say clay pot is boring! I say clay pot is place for meditation and making of medicines that make the warrior strong.

I sneaked to museum, opening panel of glass near exhibit. I sat backwards on windowsill, and...

The black form dropped into the darkened museum. Light shimmered through the transparent body, leaving nothing for cameras to catch. His hands caught the wall, and he stopped, flipping upside down, feet pressing against the paneled wood with a soft tap. He took in the empty halls, blackened eyes narrowing beneath his mask. Twenty feet away, through the red emergency lights. The bowl he sought was so close... yet for his purposes, so far.

No matter, he thought to himself. A few quick flicks of his wrist took out the cameras, and then he got to work climbing the walls, checking for errors and retrieving his shuriken. Behind one of the disabled cameras, he found a smaller, hidden camera. He smiled slightly. They're getting smarter... I should expect nothing less from the american police I suppose.

His eyes drifted over the cameras he'd already checked as he debated whether to double check. A quiet echoing voice and sounds of movement made up his mind, and he abandoned the task. He retrieved the rest of his shuriken, and positioned himself above the ancient pot. It was a small black-glazed bowl, done through a blast-firing process called "raku" that attained the perfect black color with no flaws. The lid was lain decoratively to the side, resting against the bowl.

He flicked a still-transparent glove covered hand to his belt, pulling out the glass cutter. His eyes watched carefully, avoiding the infrared sensors as he placed the device, spinning it in a circle several times. The glass cutter had a suction cup that let him lift the piece out with a slow smooth moment. He set it to the side, released the suction cup, and put the device away.

Once inside, he made quick work of grabbing the bowl and the lid. He wrapped it in silk he'd brought along, and placed it in the sack tied tightly to his back. Finished, he looked up from his work, almost like waking back up. He listened; and heard no sounds of imminent discovery. He looked back down through the hole, and at the cut piece of glass. The ninja smiled slightly, before pulling out the glass cutter and removing the sharp end, holding it in his hand. Quickly, he scratched in a message in graceful hiragana and kanji:

The cherry blossom
makes no sound as it drifts down
I am like a ghost

Next stop: ?