3 bar menu

Chapter 83 – Spring Bullet Tour (5)

Though we called it a “quick turnaround,” by the fourth day of the trip we were already back in the Kansai region.
Due to the other party’s schedule, we visited Kawanishi Kikai Seisakusho, now renamed Kawanishi Aircraft, in the morning.
Once that was over, we would have a short break in our trip: the Takarazuka Revue and a stay at Arima Onsen were waiting. And the day after that, a sightseeing tour of Osaka.

Setting aside what comes after, our next stop was Kawanishi Aircraft. This Kawanishi was one of the companies under the Kawanishi zaibatsu.
The Kawanishi zaibatsu was centered around one of Japan’s top wool textile companies and also owned a private railway line running between Himeji and Kobe.
The one offering to build a spur line once we set up a steelworks in Hirohata is this very railway company. Though the name is currently split between several entities, it will eventually become the Sanyo Electric Railway.

Today we were meeting with the first head of the zaibatsu, Kawanishi Seibee, and his second son and successor, Kawanishi Ryuuzou.

“We understand the proposal well. The terms are mighty favorable, and from our end, it’s more than we could hope for. I swear we’ll live up to your expectations.”

“Oh, then show us something good.”

With that, the two older gentlemen firmly shook hands.

Since we were dealing not just with a company but with a full-blown zaibatsu, I kept my stance as merely tagging along with my grand-uncle for educational purposes. Aside from the initial “young lady” greeting, I stayed quietly to the side the entire time.

Shizu and the two muscular bodyguards were also waiting in a separate room. At first, I thought I would be made to wait there too, but Torasaburou forcibly had me accompany him. At that point, I had no choice but to stay quiet and keep a low profile.

That said, for me, this was also a chance to directly sense how much a mid-sized zaibatsu like Kawanishi knew about or believed the rumors surrounding the “Miko of Ootori.”
Having that kind of intuitive understanding was something I had come to realize—painfully so—was very important through everything so far.

Still, the two men were looking at me with somewhat stern expressions.
I should probably assume they saw me as nothing more than a child. Torasaburou hadn’t introduced me in any particularly formal way either, so I could tell they were being cautious.

With the introductions and discussion wrapped up, we moved on to a tour of the new factory.
The factory was located in Naruo-hama, a coastal area—an ideal location for building flying boats. From the beginning, the facility had been given a fairly large amount of land, with the goal of building large aircraft.

“So this is where you’re building large flying boats?”

“They’re not large yet, though,” answered Kawanishi Ryuuzou, the second-generation successor who had been present earlier.
He came from a technical background and had been leading Kawanishi’s aviation division practically from the start.

His passion for aircraft and drive for research were so intense that he even had a vertical-type wind tunnel constructed in the company’s own experimental facility—the only one of its kind in Japan’s private sector.

Since he was an engineer, it was the second-generation Ryuuzou that Torasaburou was closer to.

“You don’t make small aircraft?”

“We’re researching them, but we don’t get orders for them from anyone other than the Navy.”

“I heard that the aircraft built for the now-cancelled trans-Pacific flight last year was made by Kawanishi, is that true?”

“You’re very well informed. Yes, that was our first small aircraft.”

“If it’s money, manpower, or some technical support, Ootori can provide it—because this young lady here has taken an interest.”

“Uncle Torasaburou!”

“See? Nailed it, didn’t I?”

“Well, yes. I’d also like you to make big planes. Reiko wishes to ride in an airplane one day. And I also love small airplanes—they’re so cute.”

“So, she says to make both. We can provide as much funding as you need for the time being. Our side doesn’t have aircraft technology, so we want you to handle the manufacturing.”

“If Tora-san puts it that way, I can’t say no. Besides, being asked to make all kinds of aircraft—that’s exactly what I’ve always hoped for. If you have a request, I’ll make anything you like.”

“Then, I’d love to see a plane that flies swiftly through the sky like a swallow!”

(Well, this is the company that’ll eventually build the Shiden Kai!)

But it was still the 1920s—saying something like that was the same as talking about something 15 years in the future, so of course he looked a bit troubled.

But I hoped they’d forgive this one as the selfish wish of a noble young lady.

“If you mean like a swallow, that would be for racing or a fighter. One day, I’d love to build one myself, but for now I need to start with what’s possible.”

“Yes, I spoke selfishly. But please do your best. Uncle Torasaburou will make sure Ootori gives you full funding and support.”

“Wait, I’m doing that?”

Torasaburou said in a teasing tone, and Kawanishi’s second-generation head couldn’t help but smile.

Well, for now, all we could really offer was money and an opportunity.

By the way, Ootori and Kawanishi signed an investment and partnership agreement in 1927. Essentially, Ootori would just state a broad goal like “we want this kind of aircraft,” and then stay out of the process.

According to Torasaburou, the best way to deal with an airplane nut was to just let them do whatever they wanted, so no one in the family ever complained—especially since he was one himself.

At Kawanishi, they had already completed their first flying boat, the Type 88 Experimental Flying Boat, by the end of last year, likely a few years earlier than in my previous life.

And though this would happen a little later, in 1931, Kawanishi—funded by Ootori—completed a light postal flying boat that didn’t exist in the history I knew. Four of them were donated by Ootori and operated by Japan Air Transport.

That said, they still couldn’t compete with the superior American passenger and transport planes, and we’d have to wait for the appearance of the Type 95 Flying Boat before getting a truly large aircraft.

On the other hand, when it came to small aircraft, perhaps spurred on by my words or thanks to Ootori’s generous funding, Kawanishi became actively engaged in developing aircraft for things like air racing—albeit as technology demonstrators. They even tried pitching them to both the Army and Navy. Ootori helped with those efforts too, purchasing personal aircraft to aid the promotion.

In 1931, Kawanishi participated in the final Schneider Trophy race under the slogan of being the “only Eastern entrant.” The results were dismal, but as the sole manufacturer from Japan—indeed, from all of Asia—Kawanishi’s name was etched into aviation history.

Prioritizing racing development… yeah, these people really were airplane fanatics.

Still, their participation in the race was widely reported across Japan and served as an incredible advertisement for Kawanishi Aircraft. Children went wild with excitement, and I heard the number of aspiring aeronautical engineers applying to join Kawanishi skyrocketed.

Unfortunately, they never managed to pull off hosting an air race in Japan, despite their intentions.

Even so, Kawanishi Aircraft continued to produce results—thanks to Kawanishi Ryuuzou’s passion for aircraft development regardless of profit, the abundant funding and technical support from Ootori, and a shared vision.

Aircraft I remembered from my past life appeared either a little earlier or in slightly altered forms. On top of that, Kawanishi began producing entirely new aircraft that had never existed in the timeline I knew.

And at Kawanishi Aircraft, I was once again reminded that money alone accomplishes nothing.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿
Kawanishi Aircraft:
You could say it was an aircraft manufacturer built by two generations of aviation-loving industrialists.
That’s probably why they produced innovative or slightly unusual aircraft for Japanese standards.
Because the protagonist is supporting them, their development is a few years ahead of schedule and on a larger scale.

Trans-Pacific Aircraft:
In 1928, inspired by Lindbergh’s nonstop transatlantic flight, a plan for a trans-Pacific flight was proposed in Japan. Kawanishi even developed a dedicated aircraft for it.
However, due to insufficient performance and lack of funding, the plan was canceled.
The glory of the first nonstop trans-Pacific flight was ultimately claimed by the United States in 1931.