Roaming the festival grounds with Genki was like stepping into a vibrant carnival of colors and laughter.

It was as if someone had decided to paint the town in every shade imaginable. I'm talking rainbows on steroids. And trust me, I've seen my share of colors. Imagine giant toddlers with buckets of paint. That's what's in front of me right now.

The festival grounds looked like something to be used in torturing Itachi. Just trick him into turning on his sharingan and this horrendous sight will be seared in his memories forever. Muhahaha! My laughter echoed along the street forcing people to look around in slight panic.

Being a ninja involves sounding like a villain at times, but that's a story for another time. Right now, we're at the festival, and the sights are nothing short of amazing. Amazingly awful.

There were these paper lanterns hanging everywhere, like someone tried to research the best way to burn down a sand town and decided to make lanterns of the most flammable and mundane material to ever exist. They looked utterly beautiful.

Kids were running around with masks on their faces, looking like they just stepped out of some ninja-themed masquerade ball.

The sound of laughter was like background music. Remember those movies set in the anglo saxon era where men drink in great halls and the scene begins with men laughing at some joke they never bothered to show us, that's what happening here. Except as background noise.

As we strolled through the lively streets, the aroma of different foods wafted through the air like a seductive jutsu. I swear, I can almost taste the deliciousness just by breathing. We followed the aromas with a shared glance.

The moment we hit a street lined with food stalls, my stomach started doing the happy dance. It was like my ninja senses were tingling, but for food.

Genki, being the culinary expert he is, practically drags me to a stand. The sweet scent hits me like truck-kun to the senses. "Whoa, what's that smell?" I asked, my nose leading the way. Genki grins, as if he's just won the lottery.

"Dango," he says, pointing at the skewered rice dumplings like they're the holy grail of festival food. "You gotta try it."

After a few seconds of great contemplation, we go for the soy glazed dango. They looked like kunais on sticks, and I'm ready to do some serious taste testing no jutsu.

The first bite, and I get it. Chewy, slightly sweet – it's like a frat party in my mouth. "I can see why Anko loves this stuff," I muttered, feeling like I've cracked some secret akatsuki code.

Genki raises an eyebrow. "Anko who?"

I pause mid-bite, realizing my mistake. "Uh, never mind. Just some S-rank insider info. Top-secret stuff." I grinned sheepishly. Shouldn't have said that.

It took a few minutes for the both of us to devour our dango. (Spoiler alert! We bought more than one.) We move on, our taste buds still tingling, and find ourselves in front of a yakisoba stand. The sizzling sound of noodles hitting the hot griddle was music to my ears. It was like a culinary performance, and I'm the audience.

"Listen to that," I say to Genki, "it's like an orchestra." I looked up at the heavens with a prayer of thanks. The ramen gods deserve praise for the beautiful sight.

Genki chuckles, and we inhale the mouthwatering aroma of stir-fried noodles, veggies, and that oh-so-amazing yakisoba sauce. It's a dream come true, right here on the streets of the festival. Eating authentic noodles right at the source, not those packaged ramen shit reserved for struggling artists and college students.

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Deciding we need a bowl (or five) of this noodle goodness, we decided to join the line. Standing beside the front of the line, we looked down to the end.

"How can this line be longer than Yuki-sensei's lectures?" Genki asked with an incredulous tone. The length of the line was making me reconsider my life choices.

After a brief, intense, and totally silent discussion with our eyes, Genki and I share a nod – yakisoba will have to wait. No noodle dish is worth starvation on a queue under the desert sun.

You know that feeling when the air hits your nose, and it's like your taste buds are doing the macarena? Well, that's exactly what happened when the unmistakable scent of chicken wafted through the air.

With a battle cry of "Chicken!" that could rival a war chant, I grabbed Genki by the arm and dragged him to the source of the glorious aroma—a chicken stand.

Grilling away with a symphony of sizzles and the occasional flare-up that could make even the most stone-cold ninja's mouth water, the chicken skewers laid innocently like a dangerous mimic at an S-rank dungeon.

It was like a dance of deliciousness happening right before our eyes.

Now, you might think a ninja as awesome as me would always have a fortune stashed somewhere, but nope, I dug into my pockets with all the financial wisdom of a third generation billionaire playboy.

"Excuse me, sir," I asked the man at the grill, "how much for this skewer of heaven?"

With the poise of a superhero, he directed my attention to a hanging board. Genki and I did a synchronized double take. "Why is it so expensive?" Genki asked with wide eyes.

"Ah, young patrons," he began with the sigh of a man reluctantly revealing the great secrets of the universe. "What makes my yakitori so expensive, you ask?"

With a theatrical flourish, he pointed to a series of small jars lined up on the counter, each containing a unique blend of spices. "These treasures," he proclaimed, "are spices from the distant lands of hot water, waterfall, and iron."

"The hot water region enriches the spices with a subtle warmth, the waterfall lands provide a refreshing and flowing twist, and the iron-infused seasoning gives it that robust kick that defines true yakitori mastery."

He spoke like a seasoned salesman (pun intended). "But, my dear little friends, the secret lies not only in the spices but also in the source of our main ingredient—the chicken. These plump, succulent pieces are sourced from farms where our feathered star leads a life of luxury."

He gestured towards a framed picture of a huge and beautiful white feathered chicken. "Our chickens, you see, dine on the finest grains and seeds, enjoying a life of leisure akin to a daimyo on vacation. A well-fed chicken is a happy chicken, and a happy chicken makes for the most delectable yakitori."

The man's enthusiasm surged as he grinned down at us. "But wait, there's more! Our grilling technique is a closely guarded secret, passed down through generations. It was said to be the grilling technique of the sage himself! The skewers are turned with precision, ensuring an even distribution of flavor. It's an art, my friends, an art that transforms these humble skewers into culinary masterpieces."

He leaned in, his eyes gleaming with pride. "You're not just buying yakitori; you're experiencing a journey through the essence of Suna itself. Each bite is a step into the heart of our village, where the heat of the desert, the freshness of our oases, and the strength of iron converge in perfect harmony."

"So," he concluded, "what do you say, my friends? Shall we embark on this flavor-filled adventure and savor the taste of Suna's finest yakitori?"

A stunned silence filled our little stand.

With all the charisma of a charismatic ninja (is that disbelief I see on your face? We exist, okay?)I turned to Genki, ready to unleash my relentless pestering jutsu. "We gotta try this, my friend. This is the secret sauce of the ninja world. The sage's forgotten grilling technique."

We forked over the Ryo (reluctantly on Genki's part) and as we bit into the skewers, a flavor explosion went off on our taste buds. It hit us harder than a chidori.

"Sweet Mary mother of God," I whispered, tears cascading down my face like a waterfall. I couldn't hold it in. "This is the best Yakitori in the entire world."

Genki, in a state of umami-induced bliss, nodded vigorously as he practically fell to his knees in awe. "All hail the chicken!" He yelled declaring his newfound devotion to the art of grilled chicken.

"All hail the chicken!" I joined him on his knees.

"All hail the chicken!"

The man, the genius behind our newfound happiness, smiled down at us. "Want another one?"

Another one? Heck yeah! Who knew being a ninja could be this delicious?