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Hamon Training. The words that defined Joseph Joestar’s existence for the past two weeks. The very same two weeks after The Pillar Men assaulted his body with their poisonous rings.
Stone-cold metal looped around his aorta and esophagus, clamping down on him. He could feel the rings flutter with his every movement. Sadly for him, Joseph has been doing nothing but moving since beginning his training.
He’d been spending hours upon hours with Caesar and Lisa Lisa. Endless exercises, practice, and challenges—they haunted each and every day.
Today was no different. He was currently sparring against Caesar, accompanied by the additional difficulty of the hamon mask on his face, all while standing on top of knee-deep water. Their assignment was to spar for 15 minutes without losing the rhythm of their breathing, which would cause them to fall into the wet trap beneath their feet.
It was a fairly hot day out, the hard work and effort easily making the climate uncomfortable. The warm Italian sun beat down on their necks, causing Joseph to groan behind his mask.
“Honestly, with this heat, I wouldn’t mind this exercise getting cut short. Care to take one for the team so I can cool off, Caesar?” He smirked.
His sparring partner was having none of it.
“Enough fooling around, JoJo! This is serious. Lisa Lisa is already irritated with your recent sloppiness today!” Caesar hissed shortly, taking no pleasure from the joke.
It was true. Joseph had been curiously, yet utterly rusty with his training since this morning. Several times, he found himself losing his rhythm, beginning to suffocate behind the mask.
They’d watch him with disappointed scowls as he naturally choked and panicked, prying at the mask with a pleading look in his eyes.
“It’s simple breathing, JoJo.” Lisa Lisa would glare, that stupid disappointed-teacher look on her face as he gasped desperately. “If you can’t get it right, then I have no hope in training you.”
Caesar would also get irritated, uncomfortable with Lisa Lisa’s disappointment seemingly spreading to him, too.
“Why can’t you just take our training seriously? Is everything a joke to you?”
Of course not. He did care. He was trying.
He just couldn’t help the tight sensation under the skin of his neck, and his chest. The way it seemed to taunt and pinch him, pulling him out of focus, teasing his natural breathing instincts—multiple times since dawn. Caesar and Lisa Lisa wouldn’t listen anyway. Anytime he tried to explain himself immediately after catching his slippery breath and resettling his rhythm, they’d cut him off with the same disappointed phrases.
“Enough talk, JoJo. You’ve wasted enough training time.”
“I don’t have time for excuses. We have work to do.”
In a way, they were right, though. He was wasting time. Even if he couldn’t control it, the time lost was because of his problem, making it his fault. The thought made him pause and swallow, a splash of guilt—
A tight pinch around his esophagus threw off his rhythm once again, instantly plunging his legs into the cool water.
Shit! Not again—!
He panicked at the startling pain, the mask beginning to pull away precious air. Joseph grasped at the evil contraption reflexively while hastily trying to breathe, struggling to retain his rhythm. Caesar stopped above him, standing atop the water, a disappointed and frustrated look on his face. He waited impatiently for Joseph to stop what he saw as an overdramatic tantrum. Lisa Lisa mimicked Caesar’s exact thoughts, watching from the side.
“...”
After a long minute of struggling to calm himself down, Joseph shakily stood up, slowly slipping back into his rhythm, if only enough to breathe properly again.
Caesar and Lisa Lisa both watched him with annoyance, arms crossed.
Weak hamon sluggishly washed across his wet body as he tried to reposition himself back atop the water. One foot after another, he focused hamon back into the soles of his feet, strengthening the surface tension of the cool liquid.
Joseph was finally able to stand on the water for about two seconds, before another pinch teased his esophagus. The brief burning pain was enough for him to lose control again without thinking, causing his legs to splash right through the water a second time.
“ —Enough,” Lisa Lisa scolded, preventing him from trying a third time.
Joseph could see Caesar clench his fists tightly, the annoyed action visible out of the corner of his watering eyes. His frustration was incomparable to Lisa Lisa’s, whose own eyes shone with ice-cold fury. She stared at him as if he were a disobedient child during class time. (He knew that look well.)
“Your pitiful attempts at controlling Hamon breathing are insulting, JoJo. Clearly, your work ethic towards control is comparable to a child, so you will be treated as such.”
Joseph’s lung’s burned. Despite the pain, he opened his mouth to speak. “I can’t help it! it’s the damn r—“
Caesar silenced him with a harsh elbow to the side.
“— Ah! What the hell, Caes—?!“
“— Don’t talk back to her, idiot!” Caesar hissed.
“ Joseph Joestar,” Lisa Lisa spoke with overwhelming authority.
Caesar and Joseph both silenced.
“I am disqualifying you from training today. Your lazy participation is holding us back. As punishment, you will go straight to the sleeping quarters, where you will be forced to practice Hamon breathing until morning. You will not be fed dinner.”
“But—!”
“No excuses. Caesar, we will continue training. When it’s time to rest, you may also return to the sleeping quarters, but you are prohibited from speaking to JoJo.”
“Understood,” Caesar agreed seamlessly.
Joseph looked between them in disbelief.
“You may go, Joseph. You are dismissed. Messina will escort you to your room. You may rejoin us once you’ve ceased this childish malpractice.”
He figured he could at least talk to Suzie Q before going to his room, but as it turns out, Messina had escorted him the entire way and locked his door from the outside as soon as he stepped foot into the sleeping quarters.
Silence filled his ears, the only sound present being the beat of his guilty heart.
Why did he have to mess things up so badly?
The thought echoed in his head for several long minutes.
Joseph sighed with frustration, sitting down on his bed. The mattress creaked under his solid form, the soft sheets wrinkling under the tight grip of his gloved hands.
The huff of air from his sigh immediately warmed the skin of his face, the humid exhale trapped within the mask. He growled, scratching at it, not unlike a miserable dog at its cone.
“Curse this damn thing,” Joseph hissed.
He cursed many things. Wamuu and Esidisi, for their torturous wedding rings. He cursed Lisa Lisa for her strenuous exercises. Caesar, for his impatience and blindness. He cursed the latter-two again, for their lack of compassion.
Lastly, he cursed himself—for being the problem. For holding them back. For causing this whole mess.
For being too weak.
As expected, Caesar had spent the rest of the day training after JoJo left.
Training continued smoothly, though to be honest, it felt a little….empty. Emotionless.
Neither Caesar nor Lisa Lisa spoke a word of what happened, but the effect was palpable in the air. It felt...wrong. Like there was hidden guilt looming above them.
Like they were missing something.
Regardless, they trained until supper-time. The table was silent and slightly tense. Suzie Q hummed with concern, uncomfortable with the tension. Despite this, she said nothing. They all said nothing. Nothing but the sound of clinking silverware against plates. Eventually, supper passed.
When Caesar returned to the sleeping quarters, Joseph was already asleep. The sassy Brit rested with his back towards Caesar, the strap of his Hamon mask visible against the scraggly brown hair. His broad chest rose and fell evenly with sleep.
'What was JoJo’s problem today?' Caesar thought deeply.
The British teenager wasn’t usually so rusty and careless with his training. Sure, he joked and teased as usual, sometimes pushing the Italian’s buttons, but the combination with today’s sloppiness had really irritated Caesar. It just seemed like JoJo wasn’t trying to fix his mistakes, always babbling some type of excuse instead of promising to do better.
(Not that Caesar listened to the excuse. More often than not, he cut JoJo off, not wanting to waste any more time, or upset Lisa Lisa even further.)
There was also the fact that JoJo hadn’t been sleeping.
As Hamon students, Lisa Lisa instructed a strict schedule for their rest. However, for reasons unknown, Caesar noticed Joseph getting up at ungodly hours of the night, fiddling around with his mask, among other things. Sometimes the Brit would gaze out the window, his face hidden. Other times, he’d fool around with those damn clackers of his, playing sleepily with them in his hands, burning time.
Why?
Perhaps JoJo was irritated with Lisa Lisa’s overbearing authority, and did this as an act of rebellion? Maybe he was still an immature high school graduate, who fought to keep control of his own sleep schedule? Regardless, it was immature.
They were in a serious situation. The Pillar Men were going to battle them in less than 3 weeks. They needed to spend that time training to the best of their ability with Lisa Lisa, optimizing every minute possible.
So why was JoJo not giving it his highest effort?
Sighing, Caesar made his way to his own bed, parallel to Joseph’s. The more he thought of it, he was being hypocritical. Thinking about it was wasting time, he should already be asleep, as well. Hoping for a better day tomorrow, the Italian let his aching body sink into the soft sheets.
Joseph couldn’t remember the dream, but he woke up screaming.
Aftershocks of the fear flashed through his mind, causing him to gulp and gasp in desperation.
—Suddenly his throat was on fire, the ring around his esophagus seemingly squeezing his windpipe in a death grip.
His breathing quickly slipped out of its rhythm, and the evil mask began suffocating him once again. He lurched forward feverishly—reflexively scratching at the damn contraption in a pathetic attempt to make it stop. His chest wheezed and heaved desperate breaths, the air refusing to get into his lungs. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes, their source unknown. His mind was racing between so many things, he didn’t initially recognize the voice calling out to him.
“—JoJo? JoJo! You need to breathe—!”
'Thanks for the tip, asshole, what the hell do you think I’m trying to do?' a sassy voice at the back of his mind supplied. The characteristic banter was unable to leave his mouth, pitiful wheezes escaping instead. His desperate hands continued to scratch at the cold metal grasping his face until an unusual warmth flowed from them.
Blood. He had been scratching and pulling at the mask so hard, he had cut his fingers on the metal.
Distant footsteps hastily left the room, barely audible through the blood rushing in Joseph’s ears. His frantically beating heart felt an unexpected surge of sadness, to his surprise.
Is he abandoning me that easily? Does he think that I’m simply being dramatic, and leaving me behind? Was it because he was being a disappointment again? Holding Caesar back, just like Lisa Lisa said earlier?
His mind felt funny. He struggled to focus on a solid thought, instead feeling loopy, incoherent fog beginning to slip into his mind.
Confusion floated in his head, pathetically wondering why his thoughts felt out-of-order.
Oxygen deprivation? That might be it.
Joseph sat on the floor against the wall, facing the door. Trembling, his shaky breaths began to take more and more effort to draw. One of his hands was pressed against his aching throat, the other pulling at the mask.
It felt like the world was slipping.
His eyelids felt heavy, along with his arms. It was as if weights were slowly being added to every muscle in his body, pinning them down. He weakly pulled at the mask continuously, tugging with the strength of the child Lisa Lisa always treated him as.
Heavier.
His hand slipped off the mask, limply slapping against the cold floor. Each of his senses dulled. His vision grew blurry, and his ears felt as if he were underwater.
He slumped forward.
Breathing properly felt like a faraway dream, now. Gray static began to corrupt the edges of his vision, threatening to pull him into blissful darkness. He felt a warm tear slide down his cheek.
Just before Joseph was about to give in, soft fingers danced along the skin of his face, applying an odd pressure. A mechanical click sounded somewhere near his head.
Suddenly, air. Sweet, sweet air.
He gasped, every muscle going involuntarily limp with the exception of his diaphragm. Slumping forward, he found himself leaning against something— someone?— warm, but he didn’t care. Vibrations rumbled against his chest, voices drifting through his ears.
“—JoJo—hear me?—JoJo!—“
“—happened—sleep, screaming—mask—!“
“—fault—rings—breathing—!“
He almost attempted to decipher the words, but the exhaustion had too strong of a grip. Instead, Joseph closed his eyes while sinking into the warmth, finally giving in.
Caesar sprinted back to the sleeping quarters as fast as he could, Lisa Lisa running ahead of him.
Noticing that Joseph had no hope in retaining rhythm after waking up screaming, Caesar had woken and notified their Coach immediately after speeding to her room.
“Caesar? Wha—“ his coach had asked, bewildered at her student’s behavior during the current hour.
“Lisa Lisa! It’s JoJo! Somethings wrong—!”
Her gaze hardened immediately from confusion to caution. She quickly rose from the bed, running with Caesar in her nightclothes without a pause.
They made it back to the sleeping quarters, just soon enough to witness JoJo slump forward from the wall, limp. A single tear could be seen, slowly rolling down his cheek.
Caesar stopped in his tracks, his coach already catching the Brit as he slumped.
“JoJo!”
Joseph’s weak attempts at breathing were clearly visible, soft wheezes pushing against the mask. His eyes were open, clearly pained, but they were glazed over—unseeing. It was unnerving to see Joseph in such a state.
'But you’ve been seeing it all day,' a voice hissed in his head. That same pained look in his eyes? He showed it several times, but instead of asking him what’s wrong, you scolded him and ignored it. You punished him for it.
Caesar’s chest clenched with guilt. His thoughts were right.
He had seen that look on Joseph’s face before. He saw it when Wamuu and Esidisi plunged their hands through his body, torturing him with their wedding rings of death.
He saw it each time Joseph roamed around their room at night, unable to sleep.
He saw it for a moment each time Joseph suddenly lost his rhythm, grasping at his throat and chest.
He saw it when Lisa Lisa or himself would scold JoJo, insulting him for failing a task as simple as maintaining rhythm.
He saw it when Joseph woke up screaming just a few minutes ago.
How could I be so blind?
A metal clank on the floor pulled Caesar from his thoughts. Lisa Lisa had removed the mask and cast it aside. An uncharacteristic look of worry plagued her face, and she bit her lip.
Joseph rested against her, his eyes struggling to remain open as he continued to wheeze softly. Lisa Lisa spoke to him with concern.
“JoJo? Can you hear me? JoJo!”
His eyes slipped closed.
Lisa Lisa turned her head to Caesar, shimmering blue eyes filled with questions. Gulping, he tried to explain through his panic.
“I wasn’t awake when it happened—He woke up from his sleep, screaming. He started—he started choking and clawing at the mask, gasping—I told him to b-breath, and—his fingers, his fingers—they were bleeding—!”
Lisa Lisa used one of her hands to gently take hold of Joseph’s, feeling a wet warmth between them. Crimson liquid traveled from his fingertips to hers, and she shuttered.
Was he this desperate to get the mask off?
Shining concern never leaving her eyes, she sent Hamon into his body, soothing his muscles. Joseph’s short breaths gradually slowed down, rising and falling more evenly against her chest.
“It wasn’t his fault,” she spoke softly, almost sorrowfully.
Caesar was confused. “What are you talking ab—?”
Lisa Lisa gently lifted up JoJo’s chin, exposing the underside of his jaw.
Right where the front of Joseph’s neck met his head/chin, were a ton of marks.
Dark, red, long scratch marks.
“The rings. They’re hurting him,” Lisa Lisa revealed.
Oh. Oh. Caesar gulped.
Christ, he really was blind, wasn’t he? Of course, Joseph wasn’t actually being lazy during training today. The damn Brit’s life was on the line more than anyone’s, so of course he was actually trying. It wouldn’t make sense at all for JoJo to suddenly start slacking, failing in things as simple as rhythm.
He was losing rhythm because he was in pain. His natural reflexes were controlling him, ripping out the rhythm from beneath him, while trying to focus on soothing the inexplicable pain instead.
Caesar was curious. “...What about the other? The—The other ring. Wamuu’s. Is it—?”
Lisa Lisa lifted Joseph’s top. Sure enough, the same dark red scratches littered his chest, too. Right in front of his heart.
“Jesus Christ,” Caesar hissed.
Lisa Lisa made no acknowledgment of his utterance, carefully adjusting Joseph in her arms instead. “You both are excused from physical training tomorrow.”
Caesar sputtered.
“ —What? But Sensei you can’t—!”
“I’ve been working you both too hard. Tomorrow will be simple breathing and meditation.” Her tone was final.
Caesar watched as Lisa Lisa carefully placed JoJo on the bed, tracing his neck and chest with more gentle Hamon. His breathing was soft and even, but a small wheeze could still be heard when Caesar listened closely.
“Fetch me if he stirs again. I’m returning to my quarters,” Lisa Lisa spoke mournfully, guilty about her misunderstanding.
Caesar nodded.
His coach sent him one last unreadable glance, before finally leaving the room.
When Joseph woke up, this time, he felt warm.
His windpipe and throat felt distantly sore, yet not as painful as training yesterday. He sighed, feeling a gentle hand comb through his fluffy brown hair. He relaxed into the touch, too exhausted to care who the hand belonged to.
“JoJo?”
He knew that voice. That soft, lovely voice belonged to the one-and-only adorable Suzie Q.
“Mmm…” He hummed.
She giggled.
He opened his eyes, feeling the sunshine across them.
Wait, the sun? He was late!
“JoJo? JoJo! Calm down!”
“S-Suzie?”
His vision focused, scanning the area. He was in the sleeping quarters, and Suzie was sitting in a chair beside his bed. Caesar was also in his separate bed a few feet away, sleeping.
“Lisa Lisa is granting you both the day off from physical training,” the sweet Italian girl revealed.
“..Is she now?” Joseph wondered aloud.
Why? Why was she—
Oh. Ohhh.
He remembered yesterday. Last night.
Waking up suffocating against the mask, heaving, when suddenly, someone saved him at the last moment, removing it.
Lisa Lisa.
He rubbed at his neck naturally, only to have the skin feel smoother and less painful than he remembers.
Ah. So she noticed.
“You really scared them, you know?” Suzie said sadly.
Joseph was bewildered, pulled out of his thoughts by the utterance.
Why? Wasn’t he just holding them back? Why did they feel—
“They felt so guilty for treating you the way they did, JoJo. They hated themselves for not realizing it was the rings sooner,” Suzie answered his thoughts as if she could read his mind.
He hummed again, processing.
The bed next to his shifted. Caesar leaned forward, waking up. He hummed with exhaustion before his eyes suddenly widened, scrambling across the room until they landed on Joseph.
“JoJo! I—you—!?” Caesar sputtered.
JoJo cut him off.
“—Got us out of physical training today? You’re welcome,” his sassy voice supplied, albeit raspier than he desired.
“...” Caesar stared at him, at a loss for words. His green eyes held a guilty, calculating look. “I’m sorry,” he uttered.
“Huh?”
Caesar opened his lips again, almost reluctantly. “I treated you like a child. I was blind to your pain. I should have seen that you were suffering. I’m sorry.”
“...” Joseph thought about the words, rolling them over in his head.
He’s sorry, huh?
Joseph looked over.
Caesar laid in his bed, eyes downcast with shame. His fists were clenched, and he looked exhausted. Joseph held back the witty banter naturally forming on his tongue, saving it for a more appropriate time. He searched for better words.
“...it’s alright. It’s over now,” he said simply.
“How long?” Caesar cut in, again.
“Huh?”
“How long have they been hurting?” Caesar begged, voice full of guilt.
The rings.
Joseph thought hard. “Only recently, as training got more vigorous. Sometimes at night after I have dreams. If I get enough sleep, the pain goes away, though,” he admitted.
Caesar hummed. “Well, shut up and sleep, then.”
“Hey, what—“
“I’m sick of hurting you. Lisa Lisa won’t admit it, but she is too. So shut up and sleep,” Caesar spoke, acting more like himself.
'I’m glad you're okay,' Joseph translated internally.
Sighing, Joseph leaned back into his pillow. Suzie continued to rub his scalp with her gentle fingers, ignoring the previous exchange.
Soon enough, both of the Hamon users fell back asleep. Their chests rose and fell in sync.
Although it felt a bit rusty, things were on their way back to normal. They would rest today and continue their training tomorrow. Lisa Lisa would be more careful with her training, and Caesar would be more gentle. They still had a long three weeks of training ahead of them.
But for now, they rested.