Joutarou & co are in a 3-room suite (which is spelled with an 'e') at the end of the hall on the second floor, east wing.

The door opens on a sitting room and there are two bedrooms coming off to the left and right. Joutarou is taking one of the rooms, the woman and the boy are in the other.

The curtains in Joutarou's room are always closed, but you managed to sneak inside while he was at dinner last night. (See below for more detail.)

The woman and boy have not left the rooms. Their food has been brought.

Ground-floor toilets in the resort work on a constant-flush system; the crapper is basically an outhouse seat over an open pipe through which water runs. On the second floor the shaft leading to the pipe is longer. It is not wide enough for a person to fit through.

Akane opened the lock on the neighboring suite in about fifty seconds -- it's a deadbolt, not an actual lock per se. Locks are handmade so that isn't more than an indicator of how long it will take to open any other lock.

The windows, walls, floors, and ceiling are wood. You could drill through them with the right tools (which you don't have but could acquire).

The walls are pretty thoroughly soundproof. Eavesdropping is going to be hard.

Navigating the room in the dark is problematic. The layout of the rooms is simple enough, but there are things scattered around to make that exact task difficult. I said that you "snuck inside", but a fuller description would have been "demonstrated that you could get the window open enough to get in. You stuck your head through, saw an array of caltrops and crumpled up paper scattered everywhere, including glued to the walls and ceiling (thereby making wallwalking over it) challenging. At that point you said "nope" and left. You strongly suspect that the layout of stuff will change regularly.

The rooms are simple and fairly spare: Sitting room: two futons in couch mode, a low table between them, a total of four end tables. A small "wet bar" type nook off to the side with an array of sake, snacks, etc. The bedrooms: A large bed in the middle of the wall opposite the door, a table on either side. A desk in the corner with chair. A dresser with four drawers. The dressers and probably the coffee table in the sitting room would be valid kawarimi targets. Everything else is either too heavy or too light. Kawarimiing into or out of the room is problematic. The glass in the windows is quite high quality for the EN, but that's not saying much; all the bubbles and imperfections distort the view and make it hard to see detail through. Also, there's the question of sightlines. If you're standing by the window, no problem. Otherwise you don't have a sightline to the ground close enough. Either way you'd need the window to be open, at which point why not just jump out it?

You've had escape routes set up for quite a while, all of which are trapped to a fare-thee-well and equipped with valid kawarimi targets that are all equipped with explosive notes that can be primed by running through a chakra tripwire a short distance ahead of them. If you manage to make it to the resort's wall you've got an excellent chance of escaping from anything less than Kakashi himself.

There was no time for training, so that hasn't happened.

Mari had chosen her outfit with care: a one-piece sea-foam-green swimsuit with a low back, a pair of cheap wooden wedge-heeled sandals, and a wide-brimmed straw hat. The suit was attractive but not alluring and the green was much less eye-catching than her red one. The sandals clicked noisily when she walked and the soles were high and slightly uneven, making her just a bit unsteady when she walked. She had plenty of experience with walking like a fit civilian instead of gliding like a trained ninja, but part of that experience was to use equipment that made the disguise easier. Also, the shoes were loose enough that they could be kicked off instantly if she needed to fight. Kicked off into an opponent's head, even.The hat, of course, was the most important part. The ultra-wide brim cast shadows across her face and made it hard to tell which direction she was looking. She appeared to be facing straight ahead, absorbed in her book. In actuality, her eyes were locked on Joutarou and the quiet conversation he was having at the other end of the veranda.Joutarou wasn't really her type—the brash, noisy ones usually weren't nearly as good in the sack as they thought and had too much ego to be educated—but his conversation partner...mmmmmm. Yum.On the short side for a man, he was only six or seven inches taller than she was. Perfect. She could wear heels and still be shorter, but they were close enough not to be awkward in bed. He was lean and fit, although fit like a civilian and not a ninja. Also good; ninja were suspicious of everyone, even their lovers, and usually a giant ball of traumatic stress issues and unexpected triggers.Long fingers and expressive hands, silky chestnut hair that tumbled just past his collar and was gathered into a loose pony tail. She had to drag herself back from thoughts of what it would feel like to run her fingers through it, make a fist in it and pull him in close, feeling the heat of those soft hands on her skin....She forced herself to drag her eyes over to the much less appealing Joutarou before she started unconsciously grinding her hips on the lounger. Besides, Mr. Yummy had his back to her and she still hadn't managed to see his face. Joutarou, on the other hand, she could see in three-quarter profile. He was well out of hearing range, but plenty close enough for lipreading. It was one more piece of evidence in the 'combat asset, not professional intelligence operative' bucket.Joutarou said.Mr. Yummy must have said something because Joutarou glowered.he said.—he scratched his cheek, blocking her view of his mouth for a moment—Mr. Yummy's hands moved, and presumably so did what she imagined would prove to be a pair of full, deliciously nibblable lips.Joutarou said.Mr. Yummy nodded, one hand making a throwing-away gesture. He turned, Joutarou falling in beside him as the two made their way back to the main building and Joutarou's room. Mari finally got a good look at him.On the one hand, disappointing: not quite what she'd hoped. The lips that she'd been daydreaming about were a little thin and the nose was wider than she preferred. No scars, skin that was neither good nor bad, dark nor light. Nothing eye-catching or memorable about that face at all. Very forgettable.On the other hand, wow. That face was so incredibly forgettable it almost screamed 'SPY!' It made him even yummier; spies were tons of fun to talk to because they generally had the same sort of training she did. Emotional awareness, active listening, empathetic projection, mirroring, identification of primary drives...all the things that made someone fun to be around and easy to talk to. Better yet, most spies weren't as good at it as she was.Best yet was that all those skills made them very attentive and enthusiastic lovers.Her lips quirked in a tiny smile. She really,needed to get laid. For almost a year now she'd been riding herd on three hormonal balls of teenage angst. Oh, and don't forget the adorable Golden Retriever in human form, and the poster child for paranoia and PTSD. (Well, more like a Border Collie—Goldens were dumb as a box of hammers, and despite her status as an evangelical Power of Youth preacher, Akane was pretty bright. And Kagome wasn't actually the poster child for paranoia; he was far too paranoid to have ever allowed his picture to be taken for a poster. If anyonemade a poster of him, Kagome had no doubt blown it up.)Joutarou and Mr. Yummy were leaving the veranda, headed back into the building and out of sight. Mari pondered her next move; there wasn't really a plausible reason for her to follow them inside. Her room wasn't on their wing, or even on the same floor—she was on the first floor in the north wing and Joutarou's group was on the second floor of the east wing.It would depend on what they did next; it was two o'clock already, which was a little late in the day to start traveling. From what Joutarou had said it was clear that he was passing the woman and the boy—and, presumably, the scroll (or whatever it was)—off to Mr. Yummy. It wasn't entirely clear if Joutarou would be leaving on his own or escorting the three from here; if he went along then the team would need to figure something out. If he left on his own then they could pretty much do what they wanted with the three civilians.She chuckled quietly. 'Do what they wanted with the civilians', huh? She knew whatwanted! She'd never force Mr. Yummy, or anyone else, but in her experience it usually wasn't hard to convince a heterosexual man to want the same things she wanted. A woman had needs, you know? Almost a year and she'd had her ashes hauled exactly once. Granted, it had been by Jiraiya who was holyohmygods good at it. It had taken twenty minutes for her toes to uncurl. And, now that she thought about it, it was really more like seven or eight times. (Apparently advanced ninjutsu expertise could really increase a guy's stamina, rowr!)Anyway, back on the actual subject...the civilians might leave today, if their destination was close enough. If it wasn't, they'd probably leave in the morning. Joutarou could travel at ninja speeds so his travel circle was a lot bigger. He'd said he had another mission to do, so if he wasn't going to stick with the group he'd almost certainly leave today.She glanced across the veranda to her opposite number. Whoever he was, he was good. Well-trained, definitely belonging to some intelligence service. She wasn't even sure if he was a ninja or not; if he was using a henge she couldn't spot it, and he moved like the mid-forties civilian he appeared to be. When the team first arrived it had taken her a full four hours to notice him; she'd only twigged because she caught him following Joutarou's movements a little too closely.None of the kids had noticed him as more than another guest, despite Hazou walking within arm's length of him on at least two occasions. She was pretty sure Joutarou hadn't noticed him either. She'd be interested to see how Mr. Spy Guy reacted to Joutarou's contact arriving.She wondered again if she should point him out to the kids. At this point, probably. She'd been waiting to see if they would notice him, but it was time to give them the information so they could factor it into the plans.'So they could factor it into the plans.' Wasn't that just all kinds of adorable? Thirteen-year-olds, doing the planning for what was essentially a small strike group? Doing it pretty well, too. She'd never tell them, of course, but she was actually impressed. Hazou was coming along nicely as a future leader; he had Noburi's ego issues mostly sorted out and had slotted the other boy into a beta role almost without Noburi realizing it. Noburi, in turn, was steadying down. He'd lost most—well, some—of his insecurity and was in the process of turning into a strong young man. Keiko was...improving. Long way left to go, though.Even Kagome was getting better. His flashbacks were much less frequent and seemed to be less intense. He was starting to sleep more than three or four hours at a stretch, and it had been almost a week since the last time he came up swinging when she woke him up. It was going to be a long time before she let any of the kids wake him, though.She sighed. As much as she loved the guy, dealing with Kagome was exhausting. Enough flirting and playfulness to keep him focused on positive things and engaged with the group, not so much that he actually developed a crush. Carefully measured voice modulation and display of gestural emblems signifying authority so that he followed the lead of the tiny little redhead instead of going off half-cocked. Constantly watching him for microexpressions of fear and, whenever she saw them, staying between him and the kids in case one of them accidentally triggered him. All without letting any of them notice what she was doing. It was just lucky that he had more tells than a roomful of first-time poker players; if he'd had any sort of ability to hide his feelings it would have been ten times worse.Still, exhausting or not, he was worth it. He was sweet, and loyal, and his earnest efforts to re-socialize himself were both heartrending and adorable. He was also far and away the most brilliant man she'd ever met, and he had a dry-as-dust wit that cracked her up on a regular basis. Granted, his table manners grossed her out -- she'd gotten him to stop wiping his bowl out with his fingers in order to get every morsel, but he justremember to chew with his mouth closed and swallow before talking. She'd had worse teammates though; at least he didn't eat his own earwax like that one guy. Still. Gross or not, the way he kept reaching out made her want to wrap him up in protective snuggles. He wanted friendship like a man in the desert wants water, but he didn't quite believe anyone would offer it...because, deep down, he didn't think he deserved it. Hazou had been good for him; the mentor/student bond was helping. A tiny little seed of self-respect and trust for others was starting to sprout.She stifled another sigh; when Uzami-sensei had started her on infiltration training, he'd warned her that it was a sacrifice. That if she studied with him she would learn to see things that no one else could see and that it would hurt. She hadn't understood just how true those words were. Human relationships ran on lies and deception. Just little ones -- "You look good today" when you looked like you'd been dragged over five miles of muddy road behind a wagon. "Tell me more!" when the person found the conversation less interesting than drying paint...or found it somewhat interesting, but was thinking about something else. Not lies intended to hurt, lies that were intended to support.But you couldn't lie to Mari. Oh no. Mari saw every lip twitch, every nostril-flare, every shift of the eyes. She'd decided early on that she wouldn't be like Usami-sensei -- withdrawn, avoiding the world because the lies hurt too much. No, she heard the lies and tried to appreciate the kind intent behind them. Still hurt, though.Actually, that was one of the things she liked most about Kagome. He couldn't lie to save his life, and it usually didn't occur to him to try. Absolutely no filter between brain and mouth...well, almost none. He had yet to say "you're gorgeous and I totally want to drag you to bed and make passionate love to you", but that was mostly because he didn't have the nerve. That, and because he was smart enough to know that it would badly disrupt the team's dynamic. And, of course, because she was carefully signalling 'no' in ways that his hindbrain understood even if his forebrain didn't. As sweet and adorable as he was, as much as he activated all her protective/maternal/nurturing instincts, he wouldn't be able to handle a long-term romantic relationship with her and it wouldn't be good for him to try.And, speaking of romantic relationships, what in the world was she going to do about Keiko? It was pretty common for female genin to develop a pash on their female jonin-sensei, but those usually wore off after a few months. Keiko's showed no signs of wearing off; if anything it was getting stronger. Fortunately, it was mostly adulation and only a little romantic fixation. Still a problem, though. There were some family issues there -- she'd practically worshiped her sister Ami, and those feelings were transferring. Not surprising...from the research Mari had done, Ami had been extroverted, a social prodigy compared to most Mori, and also a talented ninja. Keiko had followed her around like a puppy for years, and Ami had clearly loved her in return. Even beaten a couple of Academy students bloody when they made fun of Keiko...which, of course, was exactly the wrong thing to do, since it fostered feelings of dependence and inadequacy in Keiko. Understandable, though. Still, understable or not, Mari was stuck dealing with the fallout.Was there improvement there? Maybe. She wasn't sure...sometimes she thought maybe Keiko was showing a touch more self-confidence, a bit more pride in her own abilities. Then something else would happen and Mari would doubt her own perceptions.Of course, there was one option...Mari could find her a fight. A real, genuine threat. Being tied helplessly to the tree while Hazou (and, worse, Akane!) beat three opponents into the ground had shattered Keiko, left her feeling utterly worthless as a ninja. If Mari found her a real opponent and arranged things so that Keiko could take the lead.... If it worked it would force Keiko to realize just how powerful she had actually become. It could do more for her in a few seconds than Mari had accomplished in months of carefully-hidden therapy.Joutarou would be a perfect choice. A kenjutsu fighter, he would be mincemeat against Keiko as long as the girl could control the range. Which she would be able to, if Mari chose the battleground. He was a jonin, sure, but Keiko was starting to play in that league herself. With Kagome's explosives for close-range defense and maybe her pangolins for backup, she had a pretty good chance of carving the guy like a roast. (Mental note: make time for Keiko to find some new pacts among the pangolins.)It would be a stupid risk, though. Way too many things could go wrong, and there was no way to know what Joutarou had up his sleeve in the way of ranged ninjutsu. No, it was a bad plan, and she was an idiot for even momentarily considering it.She shook off the negativity and forced herself to breathe. Puppies and fuzzy little kittens! Rainbows, chocolate cake, and Auntie Machiko's apple cobbler!She settled back into the lounger, taking an extra-deep breath and wriggling just a little so that she could watch the eyes pop out of the head of the middle-aged guy two recliners over, who was desperately trying not to look and clearly hoping that his wife wouldn't notice that he had. She'd read a bit longer while waiting to see what Mr. Spy Guy did. If he didn't react before she finished her current chapter she'd go find the others and signal them to pull in for a briefing. She had a feeling the next couple of days were going to be exciting.because I'm feeling nice after my earlier pseudo-update in thanks to @faflec for the suggestion that inspired this chapter when I was frankly stuck for ideas.for @OliWhail 's omake that left me all verklempt, damnit.Vote time! What to do now?Voting ends on Wednesday, August 10, 2016, at 12pm London time.Answers to outstanding questions: