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Suga's trained eye has no trouble telling the difference between real cats and something else, no matter how similar their outer forms might take.
He takes in the state of the creature at a glance and then kneels down beside it without fear or hesitation, a resigned sigh slipping from his mouth. The umbrella he's carrying shields him and his new patient from the rain, creating a makeshift space for him to work. He was on his way home and he doesn't want to do any more work today, but a doctor's hours are never truly over.
He uses deft fingers to crack one eye open, checking if his pupils contract. The iris that's visible is a molten orange-gold, almost shimmering in color. Cat eyes are beautiful, but they'd never look like that. He's never seen this particular youkai before, either—he's sleek and black, and remarkable for the tuft of fur, almost cowlick-like, that juts out between his ears.
He fishes a small round mirror out of his pocket, holds it against the creature's mouth, and makes a small noise of affirmation when a breath fogs the glass. He takes off his nice button down coat, wrinkling at the thought of its dry cleaning bill, and uses it to wrap the creature up. His arms ache by the time he makes it back to the tiny shop he'd just locked up for the night moments before.
Suga sets him down on the table and feels for his heartbeat for any murmurs or stuttering, and then listens to his lungs to see if they've been injured; both seem fine. Most minor curses would have been broken by his wards the moment they stepped into his office, so the fact that he's still unconscious makes him wonder at what the underlying cause is. He looks up at the ceiling for a moment, lips pressed thin as he thinks, and then moves to the shelves of glass jars that line the walls.
He pulls down what he wants quickly: ginger root, ground fennel, cypress and juniper oils, then aloe to bind it all together. He adds a quick spell under his breath, his magic a small silver light that flares briefly under his palms, and then applies the mixture to the acupuncture points across the cat's body. Its eyes flash open at once and Suga backs up, wary but not afraid, as its form dissolves into a black shadowy mass before reshaping itself.
The human-shaped youkai that appears tries to lunge before sagging against the table, feeling the drag of Suga's defensive wards against him. "Human," he snarls.
"Healer," Suga corrects mildly. He keeps the youkai in his peripheral vision but that's all, instead focusing on setting his ingredients back into their proper places. "Don't waste your energy. If you tell me what happened, I can finish breaking whatever has a hold on you."
Suga can feel his defense spells easing back as the youkai considers him. He watches through narrowed eyes as Suga finishes putting the glass jars away. His large cat ears are pressed tight against his skull, nearly vanishing into the unruly crest of his hair, and his tail lashes. The fur and claws that cover his fingers change to more human skin as it moves towards his chest, which is generously exposed by a yukata that hangs mostly open. Suga hardly notices; a patient is a patient, and it's nothing he hasn't seen a hundred times before.
"I know how you humans are," he says. "What do you want as payment?"
Suga turns back to him at last, surveying the damage. It's easier to see what's wrong with the youkai now that he's back to his true form. He squints for a moment before he pulls a pair of glasses from a half-open drawer and settles them on his nose, letting the spells inside the lenses flare to life.
"Tried to trick someone too powerful for you, did you?" he says, sounding a little amused. The youkai flinches, and then his scowl deepens. "The curse isn't that bad. Help me with one job, and that should be enough to call it even."
"A job? You dare to press me into service?"
"Next you're going to ask me if I know who you are," Suga says, grabbing a chair and pulling it closer to the table. "I don't. I don't even know every important human in the world. Why would I know every youkai? Here, sit, I don't want you to fall down."
He struggles to stay standing, but it only takes a gentle press of Suga's hand against his shoulder to crumple him into the seat. He snarls, the lift of his lip revealing needle-sharp fangs. Suga tugs his glasses down the bridge of his nose and gives him an unimpressed look over them.
"I don't overcharge for my services," Suga tells him. "If you don't believe me, just ask any youkai in the area. But I'm also very good." He moves away again, letting the youkai's growl fill the shop like white noise. If it were true aggression his wards would respond, and they aren't. "Would you like some tea?"
"And how much for that?" he snaps.
Suga gives him a surprised glance. "It's free. You're my guest. What kind of tea would you like?"
The youkai huffs. "This is ridiculous. I'm leaving."
"All right," Suga says, pouring water into a kettle. "I'll escort you out."
"You're not going to try and stop me?" he demands.
Suga raises an eyebrow as he lights a small burner and places the kettle on it. "I'm a healer, not an exorcist. I'd never be able to take you on by myself."
As he expected, the modesty makes the youkai's tail uncurl a bit. He leans back in the seat, arms folded as he watches Suga move around his workspace, plucking tea leaves and strainers down from various shelves.
"If you won't tell me what tea you'd like, I'll just guess," Suga says.
The youkai's mouth twists before he mutters, "Oolong." Suga beams at him, which makes him give a short disbelieving laugh. "Why aren't you frightened of me?"
"You're half cursed," Suga reminds him mildly, "and I don't scare easily." It takes another few minutes for the water to boil, during which time Suga goes back to pulling down herbs that he thinks would help and flipping through a few books, allowing the youkai to look around the room and take in the bits of spells surrounding them. He knows all he'll see are things to promote healing, ward off disease, promote harmony, and defend—nothing to trap or hurt. His tail gradually unfluffs from its threatening bristle.
"Just one job?" the youkai grumbles.
"Just one," Suga assures him. He pulls the kettle off the flame before it starts to really boil and pours them both cups of tea—oolong for the youkai and mint chamomile, his usual, for him. He brings both to the table before pulling over another chair for himself. "I need to gather ingredients in a forest kind of far from here, and I could use a strong bodyguard."
"That's all?"
"I said my prices were fair," Suga says, smiling over his tea cup. The youkai rolls his eyes before leaning forward and lifting the cup from the table. He moves with a quick and fluid grace.
"All right," he says. "Tell me your name, to seal the deal."
"Call me Suga," he says. "What about you?"
"Kuroo."
Suga reaches across the table to extend a hand. "A pleasure to be working with you, Kuroo."
Instead of a handshake, Kuroo taps his claws against Suga's palm in quick succession. He's still frowning, but his ears are pricked forward with curiosity. "Get this curse off of me."
"Sure," Suga says. "Let's get started."