"You appear to place great stock in the concept," Sasori said, and he didn't appear very moved by this argument. "Is this a typical pastime of yours, watching others engage in such activities?"

It wasn't as if Sasori was some sort of blushing virgin. He was aware of sex, he'd engaged in it, he'd observed it. But its place in his life had been completely non-existent for decades and he'd hardly missed it; why would it occur to him to find it necessary to re-orient his life around it now, regardless of his current circumstances? He was far too stubborn for that.

Providence had been generous enough to overlook the...misstep he'd made and given him a second chance at life. It'd be an utter waste if he devoted it to anything other than his art.

It didn't occur to him that he might be already adapting, that the line of inquiry he'd chosen to follow to begin with here might well have been shaped by the influence of the chip in his brain. Since when had Orochimaru's sexual habits been anything remotely notable to him other than as an intellectual footnote?

Since when had Sasori chosen this topic as an ideal one to interrogate from or goad someone about? "...Or do you prefer being watched?"