Pale as it was, Shigaraki's skin reflected the blue tint of Dito's latent healing powers, causing him to be bathed in an unnatural light. He'd since learned to control it to a certain extent; learned to ignore the nagging urge that came about whenever in close proximity to someone injured. But it was hard to ignore when the person in question was Shigaraki. For some reason, the pull to heal his employer's various hurts was too strong to ignore-- it was like trying to hold his breath for too long.

Or perhaps-- and Dito felt a bitter taste in the back of his throat as he thought this-- perhaps it was because he didn't want to ignore it.

He shunted that thought aside in favor of focusing on the body of the man before him. Dito watched with a vague satisfaction as the dryness eased once again from Shigaraki's skin, as it grew more supple and lost that sickly pale tint. His fingers briefly shrank away as the man twitched in his sleep, but he still did not awaken. A soft sigh fell from his mouth, as if even on an unconscious level he felt what Dito was doing to him, and Dito felt the corners of his own mouth turn upward.

He wasn't one for useless flights of fancy even in the best of times, but a part of him hoped that Shigaraki was dreaming a good dream at least.