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His back twinged, nevermind, it was nothing to focus energy on right now. Aoki rolled his chair away from his computer and back over to the section of his desk covered in papers. He squinted at the mess and sighed before gathering up the few closest to him and cross referencing them with what he’d already input into the computer.
Developing the budget for review wasn’t easy. He could pretend to have everything perfectly in order as much as he wanted, but the reality of it was Aoki hardly ever remembered to put a system in place and had to triple check the numbers. Of course he had staff to help straighten things out, that wasn’t a problem, he still had to do the important parts. 13 trillion to work with didn’t make it easy, with what he’d seen so far, they were approaching that number faster than compared to past reports he’d looked over in preparation of this. If there were to be a deficit his first time being in charge of the budget and funding all the programs he would never be able to face everyone claiming he was too young for this position.
Again, his back sent a ripple of pain out. Again, he ignored it and set about clipping the papers he had gone over already together, setting them into a tray, staring at the remaining stray reports and promptly rolling his chair back to the computer to save the spreadsheet three times successively just to be sure and closing the program. The rest of the papers he stacked in order of relevance and stashed away into a folder. He wasn’t pressed on time to submit it, he would look at it again with a clear head tomorrow, maybe later that night if he was unable to get his mind off it.
Once everything seemed to be in as much order as he could manage, Aoki went home, worn out.
He didn’t bother pestering Sawashiro for any updates, he didn't check the news or his messages that had accumulated, if he needed to know something he would have seen it among his emails before leaving his office.
Locking his door behind him, he went through his nightly ministrations. Shoes off, tie loosened, blazer hung up just a little past the entryway to be taken care of later. Next were his glasses, removed and set on the kitchenettes counter as he passed it. When had he last eaten? It had to have been some time if he was feeling the pangs of it up in his chest, something he used to fear as his lungs giving up on him, now just an annoyingly persistent reminder to not stay so late as to prolong having dinner. General cleaning up came after that, staring in the mirror at his reflection as he felt the raised scarring on his chest after a shower, muttering his own name to himself, then eating and shutting off all the lights he had turned on before finally going to bed.
The moment he reclined, head sinking against his pillow, searing pain spread along his spine, fanning outwards and causing him to sharply exhale to mitigate the feeling. Once again, he had been vertical for too long. He knew others could combat the crush of gravity by leaning back in their chairs and gaining relief, a dull ache at most coming for them at the end of the day.
At least, the gravity is what he wanted to blame. Some part knew that it did have a role in the pain, the constant force pressing the vertebrae down into each other until going horizontal flipped everything and had them be pushed apart. A deck of cards being pressed by a palm being the best thing he could visualise that had the same premise.
The rest of him was positive it had to do with his prior condition, each day spent in that chair, one issue relating to another that was a direct cause of another. If there was one thing he’d come to hate more than his past, it had to be the lingering issues he still went through. A one transplant fix-all wasn’t ever going to be reality, he still had days of feeling weak, times when his legs would begin to ache and he needed to take reprieve on the first surface he could find that could carry his weight.
He frowned up at his ceiling, flexing his back just to feel the burn after it relaxed again. It wasn’t nearly as bad as when he was Masato Arakawa, infinitely better in fact. Still, Ryo Aoki had to be at his best, he couldn’t risk being seen as weak. It was coming to be election season soon, he needed to be at the top of his game, needed the plan he had in the works to pan out perfectly.
Breathing out, he closed his eyes, trying to sleep. He needed the rest to be able to focus in the day. Other than the budget he had to make a handful of public appearances, there was something to do with children this week. There was some dinner he had to attend and… Something else, there was something else important.
He huffed in annoyance and closed his eyes tighter, he would figure it out in the morning, he needed to sleep. His back had stopped aching by now, if he could stop thinking he could sleep easily and get back to his duties faster and with a fresh mind.
Elections upcoming, something was tied to them, something was supposed to happen before them. He pinched the bridge of his nose, it was right there, it was important enough to disturb his rest. The 2019 elections… He couldn’t ask his secretary, she was a wonderful woman, but something told him it didn’t have anything to do politically with them, she wouldn’t know. Asking Sawashiro, maybe. He might have some idea, but the thought of actually needing help from him to remember something was a souring one. Sawashiro was only good to be ordered around right now, and even that was beginning to lose favour.
He sighed and rubbed at his face, he would figure it out later. If it wasn’t related, it wasn’t important enough to lose sleep over.