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 - Blueprints and Gears — A Future Engineer Stands in the Meiji Era
The morning air was cold, piercing against the skin.
Shinjou Kamiki walked side by side with Kaga Hiroto between the brick buildings of the Tokyo Artillery Arsenal. Yesterday, a messenger had come from Colonel Arisaka with orders to "present yourselves at the officers' mess tomorrow morning." It was the first formal summons since that *dogeza*.
He scratched the back of his neck. A nervous habit. His fingertips brushed the shallow scar left by Colonel Arisaka's saber. A dull ache brought the events of yesterday back with vivid clarity.
" Souta, is your heart pounding like crazy?"
Kaga, walking beside him, asked with his eyes slightly widened behind his black-rimmed round glasses. He was speaking faster than usual. His light brown, loosely permed hair swayed gently in the cold morning wind.
" Of course it is. The negotiations from here on will determine our worth."
I gripped the clear file folder inside my bag tightly. About eighty sheets of A4 paper, copied at the National Diet Library. Schematics of World War I aircraft, three-view drawings of the Zero fighter from World War II, and, on top of that, memos on improvements for the Type 30 infantry rifle.
This was, quite literally, our lifeline.
The officers' mess was on the first floor of the arsenal's main administration building. It was a simple but clean room, capable of seating about forty people. White walls, with long tables arranged neatly. Through the window, you could see the arsenal's courtyard and the brick manufacturing buildings beyond.
Colonel Arisaka Nariakira was already waiting at a seat in the back. He sat with his uniform collar straightened and his back perfectly erect. Flecks of white could be seen mixed into the closely cropped black hair at his temples.
" So you've come."
His sharp, hawk-like black eyes glared intently at us. Just that gaze made the air in my lungs feel slightly heavier.
I took a single, deep breath.
(*Steel yourself. You've already decided to do this.*)
" We have come as summoned."
I spoke in as calm a voice as I could manage and placed the clear file folder on the table.
Colonel Arisaka silently picked up the first sheet. It was a conceptual drawing of the rhomboid tanks used in World War I. Caterpillar tracks and a turret protruding from the side. To eyes from the Reiwa era, it looked antiquated, but a person from the Meiji era probably wouldn't even understand what it was.
The Colonel's eyebrow twitched slightly.
" Is this... some artist's fanciful sketch?"
His voice was laced with clear contempt.
" No, it is not. This is a weapon of the future. Underneath this box, there are wheels called continuous tracks."
I pointed to a spot on the drawing.
" With these, it can easily cross trenches defended by machine guns, and barbed wire. It breaks through enemy positions as a moving fortress."
" Moving, you say?"
The Colonel's eyes narrowed slightly.
As if pressing the attack, I spread out the next drawing. A three-view schematic of a biplane. A propeller and fabric-covered wings were depicted.
" This is an airplane. It flies through the sky, dropping bombs on the enemy from above, or conducting reconnaissance."
" I have never heard of a machine that flies through the sky."
" In just about ten years, this will become the star of warfare."
On the table, drawings of tanks, biplanes, and improved rifles were laid out one after another.
The Colonel folded his arms and silently inspected each sheet. His face still bore a strong expression of disbelief.
But I knew. This man was not just a soldier. He was the genius engineer who designed the Type 30 infantry rifle.
" Colonel, sir. May I speak about the issue of chamber pressure in the Type 30 infantry rifle?"
At those words, the Colonel's shoulders twitched.
" ...Continue."
His voice dropped a notch lower.
" When operating in the cold regions of the north, the metal contracts. This creates a risk of improper locking. If the design's allowable pressure doesn't have a bit more margin, it will cause misfires or accidental discharges."
The moment I finished saying that, the Colonel's expression changed.
The look of contempt and doubt from before was replaced by astonishment, as if he were seeing something unbelievable. The deep vertical wrinkles between his brows furrowed even deeper.
" Where did you learn those figures?"
A low, suppressed voice. But deep within it, clear agitation seeped through.
That was because it was a flaw the Colonel himself had been secretly troubled by.
" From future documents. Because you were a great engineer, records remained for posterity."
I stared straight back into the Colonel's black eyes.
Silence.
Only the sound of the clock's pendulum ticking, *click, click*, in the corner of the mess hall could be heard.
Colonel Arisaka remained motionless for a while.
And then—for the first time—his eyes looked at me as an equal.
" ...Very well. Impressive."
Those words were completely different from the cold tone he'd used until now. They were filled with pure, engineering curiosity.
Kaga, sensing the moment, leaned forward eagerly.
" And also, Colonel! Regarding the composition of the smokeless powder, with the Type 31, the burn rate can be unstable, right? By mixing in a slightly larger amount of diphenylamine as a stabilizer..."
Kaga began rattling off rapidly. Chemistry knowledge. He was far more knowledgeable about this than I was.
" What? Diphenylamine? That's still in the experimental stage..."
The Colonel's eyes took on a light unlike any before. They weren't the eyes of a soldier making tools of war. They were the eyes of an engineer inventing something new.
" Wait, tell me that again! I need to take notes!"
The Colonel hurriedly pulled a notebook and pencil from his chest pocket. The motion was so hasty that the pencil fell under the table.
" Ah."
Kaga tried to pick up the fallen pencil and bumped his head on the corner of the table.
" Ow...!"
The Colonel paid no mind to Kaga, scribbling down the mixing ratios for the smokeless powder with tremendous speed.
" ...Doesn't it feel like we're the ones being taught now?"
When I whispered into Kaga's ear, he gave a wry smile and adjusted his glasses.
" This is fine. Being able to talk tech is the best possible development, right?"
I couldn't help but let the corners of my mouth relax a little.
(*Did we... do it?*)
The Colonel was completely absorbed in our discussion. Improvement plans for the Type 30 rifle, the extraction mechanism of future machine guns. Kaga's chemistry knowledge and my knowledge of weapons history were meshing together perfectly.
" I see, with this bolt shape, wear would certainly be reduced! You, where did you...!"
The Colonel's voice had clearly risen a full tone. His eyes sparkled like a boy's.
—That was when it happened.
"Don't be fooooled!!!"
A hoarse, angry shout echoed from outside the window.
The atmosphere in the mess hall froze in an instant.
" Don't be fooled by the militarists! Shinjou sold you out! They're trying to turn you into tools for the military!!"
The voice came from the direction of the official residences. The Sixth Residence—the wooden lodging where our classmates were being held under house arrest.
It was Mr. Bandou's voice.
He must have been shouting continuously since last night; his voice was already completely hoarse. Even so, he poured all his hatred into every word, yelling out the window.
" What does he mean!? Souta sold us out!?"
A female student's shrill voice came from the window of the residence.
" See, they *are* buddying up with the soldiers!"
" This isn't what we were told! We're just being used!"
The agitation spread like a wave.
"E-everyone, calm down! You mustn't take Mr. Bandou's words at face value!"
Ms. Kaneda's desperate attempts to stop them seemed completely ineffective.
A heavy silence fell inside the mess hall.
Colonel Arisaka slowly closed his notebook. The boyish excitement from just moments ago vanished from his face as if by magic. It had returned to its original, iron-like expression.
" ...You heard that."
I bit my lip.
(*Damn it... we were at the best part!*)
Under the table, I clenched my fist. My nails dug into my palm.
" That teacher has nothing to do with us! We didn't come here to do something like that!"
I stood up and desperately protested.
But the Colonel had already folded his arms, and his eyes were fixed with a look of doubt.
" We cannot trust those who lack internal control. You are a single group. If the head rots, the body rots. That is logic."
I was rendered speechless.
...Right. In this era, that was the norm. It wasn't about the individual. The group took responsibility. If Mr. Bandou broke the rules, all our heads would roll.
" That is all for today. Dismissed."
Not a shred of the warmth from earlier remained in the Colonel's voice.
Kaga and I were practically thrown out of the officers' mess.
The moment we stepped into the hallway, Kaga kicked the wall with all his might.
" Damn it! The tech talk was perfect! Why did Mr. Bandou have to do that...!"
Kaga threw away his usual gentle tone, his voice trembling. Behind his glasses, his eyes even seemed to glisten slightly with frustration.
" ...Next time, we have to figure out a way to shut Mr. Bandou up."
I muttered quietly.
Technology alone wasn't enough anymore. We had to somehow unify this group.
—That night.
When we returned to the residence, the air was heavy as lead.
Several of my classmates looked at me differently. Eyes of suspicion. Eyes of fear. Eyes that looked at a traitor.
(*What a pain...*)
Without meeting anyone's eyes, I headed for my room.
As I walked down the hallway, I passed the room where Mr. Bandou was being isolated. The door was locked, and a soldier stood guard outside.
But through a gap in the door, I caught a glimpse of what was inside.
In the dim lamplight, Mr. Bandou was spreading something out on the floor. It looked like paper. He traced his finger over the paper, muttering something to himself.
(*...Is that a map?*)
I thought so for a moment, but I was utterly exhausted.
I didn't have the energy to think about it and just walked past.
Looking back now, I should have realized it then.
—A little while later, as I was hugging my knees in the corner of the room, Ms. Kaneda quietly approached me.
" Souta-kun, do you have a moment?"
Her usual soft, but slightly trembling voice. The black ponytail gathered at the nape of her neck swayed worriedly.
" About your talk with the Colonel today, you and Kaga-kun worked really hard. Thank you."
I looked up.
" But I... I couldn't stop Mr. Bandou... I'm truly sorry. If I had been more firm, I wouldn't have gotten in the way of what you were doing."
Ms. Kaneda fidgeted with the ends of her hair, looking down deeply. A habit she had when she was worried.
I paused for a moment before speaking.
" ...Ms. Kaneda, if you hadn't isolated him, everyone would have been finished on the very first day. It's because you were here that we've gotten to the point where we can even have these talks."
The words came out of my mouth naturally.
Normally, I don't really trust adults. Somewhere in my heart, I think, *don't trust them*.
But now, I couldn't help but say it. It even surprised me a little.
" Souta-kun..."
Just then, Ms. Kaneda let out a small "Oh my."
" You're hurt. Your hand."
Ms. Kaneda's gaze was fixed on the back of my hand. It was a scrape I'd gotten when I prostrated myself on the ground. The blood had already dried, but it was still dirty.
" Hold still... this is all I can do."
Ms. Kaneda took a white handkerchief from her pocket and gently pressed it against the back of my hand.
The soft feel of the cloth, and a faint warmth.
" Ah, no, it's fine, this is nothing..."
I suddenly felt embarrassed and tried to pull my hand back. But she wouldn't let go.
" No. If you leave it, it might get infec
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