World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

Yamamoto Gonnohyōe laughed, a laugh tinged with deep weariness and sarcasm: "Stabilize the situation? Your Excellency, do you really think there's any 'situation' left to stabilize?"

He stood up, walked to the window of the tea room, and pushed open the paper window. The night breeze, carrying a chill, drifted in with the drizzle.

"Four Kongo-class destroyers sank, the main force of the Combined Fleet was gone, and more than four thousand of the best sailors were gone. This is not the failure of a single battle, this is..." He paused, finding a word, "This is the collapse of a system. The naval system we built over forty years was proven to be outdated, backward, and vulnerable in a single day."

The temple was silent.

"If I were to return to civilian life now, what could I do?" Yamamoto turned to look at the temple. "Tell the families who lost sons, husbands, and fathers, 'Please accept our condolences, we will rebuild the navy'? Or tell those bastards in the army, 'Give us another ten years, and we will build even more powerful warships'?"

His voice rose, filled with long-suppressed anger: "Your Excellency, do you know what the army is doing right now? They're spreading rumors that the navy is a 'traitor,' that the navy is wasting the people's tax money, and that this defeat was entirely due to the navy's incompetence! They've even proposed in parliament to cut the navy's entire budget for the next five years and redirect it to the army!"

"I know," Terauchi said calmly. "That's why I need you even more. Only you, Lord Yamamoto, only your prestige can suppress the army's arrogance. Only you can make the navy stand up again, even if it's just... standing up to take a beating."

The last sentence was spoken with great emphasis, and Yamamoto Gonnohyōe's body visibly stiffened.

"Get beaten up?" he repeated the word.

"Yes, we'll be beaten." Terauchi also stood up, walked to Yamamoto's side, and stood shoulder to shoulder with him, looking out at the rainy night. "We can't beat Lanfang right now. At least not in the short term. But we must get through this and preserve what the Empire has left—Taiwan, Korea, and the mainland. For this, the navy must exist, even if it's just a symbolic one."

He turned to face Yamamoto: "What I need from you is not to win the next naval battle—we can't fight a naval battle in the short term. What I need from you is to preserve the navy as a service, to preserve the foundation of the navy, to preserve those shipyards, factories, schools, and personnel. Let the navy survive, even if it's just barely surviving, so that in the future... when there is an opportunity in the future, it can stand up again."

Yamamoto Gonbei remained silent for a long time. Rain drifted in, dampening his clothes, but he was oblivious.

"Living on its last legs..." he murmured. "Back when I came to Etajima from Satsuma and entered the Naval Academy, the Imperial Navy only had a few wooden-hulled ships. We spent forty years building it into the third largest fleet in the world. And now, you want me to go back and lead it... on its last legs?"

"Yes." Terauchi's voice was cruel, but true. "Because if we can't even survive, then death is the only outcome. The Navy will die, and the Empire... might die with it."

Silence fell again in the tea room. The wall clock pointed to 11:30, its pendulum ticking rhythmically.

"What can you guarantee about the army?" Yamamoto finally spoke, his voice regaining its calm.

"I can guarantee that in my cabinet, the Army will not completely destroy the Navy," Terauchi said. "The budget can be cut, but it will not be eliminated. The size of the fleet can be reduced, but it will not be abolished. The Navy must exist; that's the bottom line."

"What about Lanfang? Their four battleships are right here in front of our house."

"Diplomatic channels are already attempting to make contact," Terauchi said. "But we need time. And before we get that time, we need someone in charge of the Ministry of the Navy who can keep the Navy in order and prevent the Army from acting recklessly. That person can only be you."

Yamamoto Gonnohyōe closed his eyes. Many images flashed through his mind: his service aboard the Naniwa in his youth, formulating operational plans in the General Staff during the Russo-Japanese War, and later, as Minister of the Navy, pushing forward the shipbuilding program…

Those glories, those dreams, those things for which one has fought a lifetime, are now sunk to the bottom of the East China Sea.

"I have one condition." He opened his eyes, his gaze filled with only calmness and resolve.

"Please speak."

"I am fully responsible for personnel matters in the Navy. The Army must not interfere. The Navy's reconstruction plan shall be formulated by the Navy itself. The Army may cut the budget, but it cannot interfere," Yamamoto said, emphasizing each word. "If the Army tries to meddle in the Navy's internal affairs, I will resign immediately."

The temple was silent for a few seconds, then nodded: "Yes. I assure you in my capacity as Prime Minister."

"Alright." Yamamoto Gonnohyōe took a deep breath. "Then I promise you. But I must make this clear: I'm not going to lead the navy to revival. I'm going to... preside over a dignified funeral. To give a dignified funeral to that once glorious Imperial Navy."

Terauchi Masatake did not refute. He knew Yamamoto was right.

The two sat back down at the tea table. Yamamoto prepared tea again, this time with even slower, more deliberate movements.

"I will have an audience with His Majesty tomorrow," Terauchi said. "The cabinet list will be announced the day after tomorrow. Please be prepared then."

"I know." Yamamoto handed over the teacup. "Prime Minister, please remember your promise today. The Navy can fall, but it cannot fall on its knees."

"I've got it."

The monk accepted the tea and drank it all in one gulp. Then he stood up, bowed, and turned to leave the tea room.

Yamamoto Gonbei sat alone in the tea room, gazing at the endless rainy night outside the window. The tea had gone cold, but he didn't touch it.

After a long while, he slowly stood up, walked to the wall, and took down the calligraphy and painting that read "Seven Lives to Serve the Country." He gently stroked the vigorous ink marks with his fingers, a trace of pain flashing in his eyes.

"Togo-kun," he said softly, "if you were here, what would you do?"

The calligraphy and paintings offer no answer. Only the rain outside the window continues to fall relentlessly.

Navy Ministry Building, Minister's Office, 10:00 AM the following morning

Although the owner had changed, the office furnishings remained almost unchanged. The only difference was that the bronze paperweight, symbolizing the victory in the Russo-Japanese War, had been put away and replaced by a simple potted asparagus fern.

Yamamoto Gonnohyōe sat behind his large desk, facing all the senior officials of the Ministry of the Navy. Chief of Naval Operations Shigetaro Shimada, Chief of Operations Kantaro Suzuki, Chief of Intelligence Hideki Yamamoto, Chief of General Affairs... every face was etched with exhaustion and confusion.

"Gentlemen," Yamamoto began, his voice not loud but exceptionally clear, "from today onwards, I resume my post as Minister of the Navy. I know you all have many questions and anxieties, but now is not the time to discuss them."

He stood up and walked to the nautical chart on the wall. The markings for the East China Sea on the chart were alarming, but Yamamoto's gaze did not linger there; instead, it moved toward the coastline of mainland Japan.

"We have three primary tasks." He turned around and held up three fingers. "First, organize the remaining ships to retreat to the inland sea and establish a new defensive line relying on the coastal defense system. All old battleships and cruisers must withdraw into the Seto Inland Sea and Tokyo Bay. They are not allowed to leave port without my order."