While Riding the Bus on a School Trip, We Time-Slipped to a Military Facility Just Before World War I
Third-year middle school student Shinta Shinjo is on a school trip to Tokyo. He's a bit of an oddball otaku who loves history and war games. But the trip is being led by a frustrating teacher, Mr. Bando, who keeps badmouthing Japan and the Self-Defense Forces, much to everyone's annoyance.
Suddenly, as the bus passes under a large torii gate, a blinding light engulfs them. When Shinta opens his eyes, he finds himself at the Tokyo Arsenal in 1900. Real soldiers of the Imperial Japanese Army surr
While Riding the Bus on a School Trip, We Time-Slipped to a Military Facility Just Before World War I - Dogeza and the Military Sword — Tokyo Artillery Arsenal
"Whoa, what the hell is this?!"
Beside me, Kaga let out a weird yelp.
I looked up too. Something was seriously off outside the window.
Just moments ago, it should have been the Tokyo cityscape, but instead, I was staring at huge brick buildings and dirt roads. The traffic lights, the convenience stores — all of it was gone.
It had only been a few seconds, probably.
It was like passing through a torii gate and finding the whole world changed.
"Huh? Wh-where are we?"
"No way... my phone has no signal..."
The bus started buzzing with noise. Everyone was pressed against the windows, looking outside. There wasn't a single familiar sight.
I — Shinjou Kamiki — absently scratched the back of my neck. It's a habit I have when I'm nervous or when something I don't understand is happening.
"Souta."
Kaga tugged at my sleeve. Behind his black-rimmed round glasses, his eyes seemed wider than usual. His light brown, naturally curly hair was even more disheveled than normal.
"Look at that."
I looked where he was pointing, and my breath caught in my throat.
Horses.
More than ten horses were heading our way. And riding them were men in dark blue military uniforms. They had rifles in their hands. Sabers hung at their waists. Their caps had red bands in the center. Brown boots.
You've got to be kidding me.
For a second, I thought it might be a TV drama shoot. But those didn't look like props. Those were the real deal.
"Intruders! Who are you people?! Disembark immediately, or we will open fire!!"
A roar that seemed to vibrate in my gut. The bus fell silent in an instant.
Someone let out a small shriek.
My mind went into overdrive.
The design of the uniforms. The caps with the red bands. The shape of those rifles. Cavalry soldiers carrying sabers.
And those factory buildings from a moment ago.
Brick-built, with multiple smokestacks rising from them, on an absurdly large plot of land.
(Could it be... no, that's impossible.)
But there was no other explanation.
This place is—
"The Tokyo Artillery Arsenal."
When I muttered it under my breath, Kaga turned to me.
"You know this place?"
"I've seen it tons of times in games. It's a weapons factory from the Meiji era."
The walls of brick buildings stretching out. Unpaved dirt roads. Utility poles connected only by thin electrical wires.
The year 1900 — Meiji 33.
An era just after the First Sino-Japanese War, on the verge of the Russo-Japanese War.
"What are you dawdling for?! Get down here!"
Outside, soldiers had surrounded the bus, aiming their bayonets at us. Those blades were made for actually stabbing people.
"Ms. Kaneda... this..."
Ms. Kaneda stood up, her face pale. She's our homeroom teacher, but she's not the type you can rely on in a situation like this.
No, expecting a middle school teacher from the Reiwa era to negotiate with the Meiji Army is unreasonable to begin with.
The bus door opened.
The person who stepped out wasn't Ms. Kaneda.
It was Bandou Junzou.
Our grade head, and the very man who planned this crappy school trip itinerary. Short, slicked-back hair streaked with gray. He had sanpaku eyes, and he always looked at students like he was appraising them.
Ever since the first day of the trip, it had been nothing but lectures about how "the Self-Defense Forces are evil" and "the Japanese military was atrocious." I was sick of it.
"What is the meaning of this?! Why are you surrounding us dressed up in militaristic costumes?!"
His gruff voice boomed.
The soldiers' faces stiffened.
(Ah, crap... this is the worst.)
Mr. Bandou doesn't understand the situation. No, he's not even trying to. He's just spewing his own ideology.
"Take off that cosplay this instant and contact the police! Protecting us is your job!"
One of the soldiers furrowed his brow.
"...Is this man insane? Someone contact Colonel Arisaka."
Colonel Arisaka.
The Imperial Army engineer who developed the Type 30 rifle.
A chill ran down my spine.
It's real. We've really come to the Meiji era.
"In the first place, it's because you worship a pre-modern dictator like the Emperor—"
That was the moment.
"You wretch! What did you just say?!"
Along with a sharp voice, a man in uniform burst forward.
Short-cropped black hair, with flecks of white at his temples. His sharp, hawk-like black eyes burned with rage. He was tall, with broad shoulders. The sleeve of his uniform bore numerous stripes, making it clear his rank was far higher than the other soldiers.
The saber he drew from its scabbard glinted dully.
The blade was pressed against Mr. Bandou's neck.
Screams rose from inside the bus.
"Stop it!"
Ms. Kaneda tried to stumble out of the bus. But her body was trembling, and she couldn't move properly.
The students were frozen.
Beside me, Kaga grabbed my arm tightly.
"Souta, what do we do?"
What do we do? Isn't it obvious?
I'm a lazy guy. I don't want to be the center of the class. Talking about games with Kaga is way more fun.
But if Bandou dies here, the teachers and our classmates will be terrified of the soldiers forever. We won't be able to negotiate with that kind of distrust.
(You've gotta be kidding me...)
I bit my lip.
This was a situation I'd simulated countless times in games. Surrounded by enemies, one wrong move and it's a total wipe. But unlike a game, there's no reset button.
I took two deep breaths.
I slapped both my cheeks with my hands and stood up.
"Kaga, sorry."
I jumped out the window.
I landed on the ground and ran. I slipped between Bandou and the Colonel, then pressed my forehead against the dirt.
A full dogeza.
"Please wait, Colonel Arisaka Nariakira! Unbelievable as it may seem, we are subjects of His Majesty the Emperor, come from the future! We know the actual state of the future Empire of Japan! Would you please just hear what we have to say?!"
I rattled it all off in one breath, my voice trembling.
A cold sensation touched my neck.
The sharpened blade shallowly cut my skin. A trickle of blood dripped down.
It hurts. I'm scared.
My heart was pounding in my ears.
"...Speak, boy. Depending on what you say, I will behead you right here."
A low, heavy voice. But it wasn't insane. It was the voice of someone who still had the composure to listen.
Without being able to raise my head, I continued.
"We have come from a future over 100 years from now. We are Japanese citizens, subjects of this Empire of Japan, and by extension, subjects of His Majesty the Emperor. And, as you can see, the vehicle before your eyes uses technology from the future."
I couldn't even point at the bus; I could only convey it with words.
"...Indeed, I have never seen a vehicle like this. However, you may be of the same ilk as this fool, trying to deceive us."
The Colonel's voice was still hard.
But his sword was now pointed back at Bandou. It had left my neck.
There's a chance.
"I put my life on the line to prevent the others from developing excessive fear and distrust towards you. I am serious when I say that if cooperation is possible, I want to cooperate."
Exaggerating here would be useless. Any clumsy lies would definitely be seen through. I just honestly stated my feelings.
A few seconds of silence.
Only the neighing of horses and the sound of the wind could be heard.
"...Cooperate, you say? Then, boy, don't just speak — show us a 'benefit' right now. With this so-called knowledge of the future, what can you bring to this Empire of Japan? Do you people understand what it is we seek most right now?"
At his question, I raised my head.
The Colonel's black eyes were staring intently at me.
This man is an engineer. The man who created the Type 30 rifle.
In that case.
"...We will cooperate not only in the war against Russia, but in making this a strong nation that won't lose to the Great Powers. And we possess the knowledge that has the potential to make that a reality."
At those words, the Colonel's eyebrow twitched.
I opened my bag and took out a clear file. Documents I had copied at the National Diet Library.
I held it out with both hands.
"These are blueprints of future weapons. They contain technology from World War I through World War II. They also include conceptual diagrams of aircraft and tanks that do not yet exist in this era."
The Colonel didn't move.
The saber was still in his hand.
A few seconds felt like an eternity.
Just then, I heard another set of footsteps from behind.
"Kamiki-kun!"
Ms. Kaneda came running towards me, crying. But she was blocked by a soldier and stopped.
"Please, at least the children...!"
Ms. Kaneda fell to her knees right there and bowed her head.
A teacher, prostrating herself before a soldier.
That sight made my chest tighten.
(That's right. I have to protect them.)
It's not just me. The teachers, my classmates — we all have to survive in this place.
"Colonel. We cannot fight. But we can offer knowledge. Please, save the lives of these 200 people."
I bowed my head deeply once more.
Beside me, I sensed someone lining up.
"Me too... please."
It was Kaga. His messy, curly hair was nearly touching the ground as he bowed deeply.
"Kaga, you..."
"Don't try to be a hero all by yourself."
His quiet words almost made me cry.
At that moment, a shadow moved smoothly.
The Colonel had sheathed his saber.
A sharp click.
"...I see no falsehood in your words just now. However, I cannot yet determine the full truth. Except for this fool here, the rest of you will also disembark from that vehicle and follow our instructions."
When I looked up, the Colonel's mouth was relaxed just a little.
No hostility. At least, not right now.
"I will not kill this fool. Let us speak of more detailed matters, and of what is to come."
Without fully understanding, I bowed my head over and over.
"Th-thank you very much...!"
But the relief was only momentary.
When I turned around, Mr. Bandou was still being held down by soldiers. My classmates on the bus had their faces frozen in terror.
I still had no idea what was going to happen.
Our long day had only just begun.
The Tokyo Artillery Arsenal.
Meiji 33.
This is the Empire of Japan, fresh from its victory in the First Sino-Japanese War. The soldiers are well-trained, and the factories are producing guns and shells. But it's still an era without cars or airplanes.
200 children and teachers had been thrown into the middle of a vast, vast organization.
To survive, we have to show our knowledge and earn their trust.
I stared at the documents in my bag.
Knowledge of World War I and II weapons that I'd studied for hundreds of hours in a game called Strategic Commander. Numerous blueprints I'd copied at the National Diet Library.
Right now, that's our lifeline.
(I have to do this. I've already made up my mind.)
The wound on my neck throbbed dully.
But strangely, that pain calmed me down.
Nothing is over yet.
The real thing starts now.
The Colonel took the clear file.
Those hands were the hands of the engineer who designed the Type 30 rifle.
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