"The hell is a Yōkai exorcist?" Aoi asked, looking at the old man with curiosity in his emotionless eyes. Despite this, he was sweating profusely. He didn't realize before, due to his adrenaline pumping throughout his body. But, this old man has an aura that is making him choke. Aoi desperately tried to gasp for breath, his eyes widening and snapping shut.
He flickered his attention to the side of him. He noticed another boy, perhaps the same age as him. This boy is a fairly tall man with a fairly muscular body, tan skin, and deep red eyes. He has very short black hair that nearly reaches to his neck, which is ruffled up to stick out every direction.
This boy was also sweating profusely due to this old man's presence. This boy, named Soturo, looked at Aoi, his eyes widening as he takes shallow breaths. The old man would then clap, directing their attention back to him. The old man had a sinister expression on his face, he was smiling ear to ear.
"I'll tell you all about that, kids. But, before we continue…" The old man would trail off, stopping as he frowned a bit. He would then kick two rusty knives to their feet. The blades themselves was marred with patches of deep, reddish-brown rust that crept like a spreading stain from the hilt to the tip. These rust spots were like darkened, crusty scars, hinting at the countless seasons it had weathered. The steel, where it was still visible, had taken on a mottled appearance, a mixture of tarnished grays and darkened browns, evidence of oxidation's relentless grip.
"… Kill yourselves.." The old man said with contempt laced in his voice. These words pierced Soturo's and Aoi's ears, those words ringing throughout their whole body. Their eyes widen, looking at the man, Soturo immediately began to yell at the man, anger and rage in his voice as he spoke loudly.
"KILL OURSELVES?! WHY THE HELL WOULD WE DO THAT?! I DON'T KNOW WHO THE HELL YOU ARE. BUT, I'M NOT TAKING ORDERS FROM A DIRTY OLD MAN WHO'S ABOUT TO KICK THE BUCKET SOONER OR LATER!"
Soturo's eyes widen in rage, his teeth clenched as his veins began to bugle all across his face and around his neck. Aoi only managed to look at Soturo for a split second, before turning his attention back to the rusty, old, knife. He noticed how the blade was dark red at some places. He then realized, countless of people had ended their lives with this very blade.
Aoi grabbed the handle of the knife, before running his fingers along the blade, The edges, once sharp and keen, had long since become jagged and uneven, with tiny chips and nicks that caught the light in a dull glimmer. In some places, the rust had eaten away at the metal, leaving tiny pockmarks like freckles dotting its surface.
The handle, too, bore the marks of time's passage. Made of weathered wood, it was cracked and splintered in several places, the color faded to a lifeless gray. The grain of the wood, once smooth and polished, now appeared coarse and dry, as if thirsting for the oil of a careful hand. Faint traces of what might have been intricate carvings or decorations were barely visible, worn away by years of use and exposure to the elements.
The hilt, held together by tarnished brass pins, had a loose, almost rickety feel to it, as if it might come apart with just a little pressure. The brass had oxidized into a sickly green patina, which contrasted sharply with the rusty blade, giving the knife an eerie, almost sinister aura. How many lives has this blade taken? Who died from slicing their necks, or, slitting their wrists with this very blade he's holding?
Aoi has widened again, his face plastered with a look which could only be described as pure dismay. Aoi would then stand up, looking down at the ground. The old man smiled, looking at Aoi.
"If this… Is the only way…." He said shakily, before putting the blade to his neck. "Then… then…. Then…. I-I-I-" He was contemplating whether or not to slice his own neck right now. Soturo immediately ran to him, grabbing his wrist firmly.
"You! Don't believe what this guy is saying! Yōkai aren't real! They're just myths! Yōkai just exist in scary stories to scare children! There's no man eating spirits who have supernatural powers and abilities! It's all FAKE FAKE FAKE!"
Soturo yelled into Aoi's ear, making his ears ring. "IF THEY WERE REAL, I WOULD'VE KNOWN! MY MOM DAD WHEN I WAS YOUNG DUE TO A BEAR ATTACK! THESE ARE JUST FAKERS! FAKERS IM TELLING YOU-"
The old man clapped his hands with a sense of authority. The old man would then open his mouth, before speaking in a shaky high pitched voice. "Now, now. We Yōkai hunters are real. Yōkai are real. Say, Aoi… You killed a Yōkai before, haven't you? That's the whole reason why we scouted you to become one. And , Soturo, we scouted you because of your talent passed down to you generation from generation. You two will become a big help."
Aoi then spoke directly to Soturo. "He's right! They're real! I met one face to face! I luckily killed it some how… But, they're not some myth to be tossed around to scare little children! These are man eating spirits of pure evil! If you don't want to do this… It's fine by me! But, I'm doing it!"
He said, before slicing his own neck with the rusty knife. The moment the knife went across his neck, his head fell back as he wobbled around, a crimson paint spattered out on each side of the room they were in. Soturo gasped, before saying, "IDIOT!" He would fall to the ground abruptly, due to the old man kicking the knife into his throat before he could even realize.
"Great… The test will now begin…. Let's see if they can actually become a Yōkai Exorcist.."
The old man would let out a chuckle, as their bodies immediately start to decompose, maggots and flies landing on them and eating at their bodies.