Missing
Sasori has never regretted his transition - his art is empoweringly beautiful, unlike anything the world has ever seen. His puppet body severely limits his sense of touch to pressure and weight, but he finds no complaint in it - those are the bare minimum for a shinobi to stay sharp, and losing his tactile senses is a meager price for achieving eternal beauty.
Even so, Sasori cannot fully say that he is a complete puppet because of his heart. It is the only semblance of his humanity that he has left, and sometimes - only sometimes - he will secretly admit to himself that a tiny part of him, one that definitely resides in the sinews of his core - misses the feeling of tenderness. When Deidara wraps his arms around him in an embrace that he once longed for so deeply ago, Sasori envies him just a little bit - he wishes that he’d waited just a little longer before he shed his human skin - or perhaps met Deidara much, much sooner.