The soft sound of a morning bird, chirping on the slithered dew of an outstretched tree branch, awakens Josuke from his nonconsenting slumber. He wasn't quite sure how, but he found himself nestled beneath a warm futon in the center of a tatami floored room, surrounded by shogi walls, one of which was an open window. At the far left of the room sat a soft outcrop of a sliding section that was cracked just a little. It was morning, and after a long night of wandering and fighting, It appears that he had survived the confrontation, though not without his fair share of injuries. Peeling out from beneath the covers of his bedding, he found himself to be without a top, instead; his chest, arms, and hands had been wrapped diligently in a tightly bound bandage. Somebody had gone to great lengths to heal his wounds... but who? Was it that Demon Doctor; Tamayo? No.. this didn't seem like the same place as last night, it felt more... homey? He couldn't fathom the words to place upon it, it just felt different, and that was that.

Josuke stands and approaches the door, his fingers daintily grasped to the wooden frame to slide it across and reveal an open veranda that shadowed the veil of a beautiful garden that was currently being tended to by a small girl; a child actually. Her hair was a beautiful dark blonde that stretched far down behind her head akin to a lion's mane, and her clothing was not too much to write home about; a simple pink kimono, tied at the waist through the use of a bright yellow sash. She hadn't noticed the teen yet; too focused on pouring her watering can across a beautiful set of tulips, humming away without a care in the world. He couldn't quite work out where he was. It looked close to what he had seen when he woke up at the Butterfly Mansion, but this place was clearly on the smaller side- really only capable of holding just the small garden and the building itself... a haven away from the horrors of the world perhaps?

"Come." It was that same man from the previous night, it's as if he appeared from nowhere and had now moved to pace his way down the hall.

Josuke was... hesitant, at first; but he knew that he owed this man a debt of gratitude, it would have been utterly rude for him to pass up the invitation, So he complied, quickly jogging behind to catch their speed.

"Hey, uh.. Listen, I really appreciate your help and all, but-"

"What exactly was your plan, last night. Hm?"

"...Huh?"

"You put yourself into harm's way to protect others, I understand that- But it was a completely idiotic and fruitless effort when you were immediately outmatched by your opponent."

"H-Hey, I was just trying to-"

"Help? You barely survived."

"They attacked ME"

"They also mistook you for one of the Slayer Corpsmen, not that it mattered after you antagonized them, you're lucky you survived at all."

Josuke stops, not too happy with the lecture he was getting from this stone-faced jerk. It took all of his energy to stop himself from laying his ass out, but it was really reaching a boiling point here.

But the man simply scoffs "Please, You couldn't harm me even if you wanted to." It's as if the blind man could read his very thoughts; knowing of the swelling emotions that started to spiral about.

"C-C...CRAZY DIAMOND" Oh, he wasn't going to go down that easily, Jojo was confident in the abilities of his Stand, and its sudden appearance from the confines of his soul in that yellow blasted flame was nothing to joke about. Its armored flex came to no surprise when the welling of its fist crunched in severe tightness to slug this blind old coot in the middle of his face

But it didn't go at all as Josuke expected, it actually near stunned him to how the reaction was played. Henric didn't miss a single beat, nor did he flinch before the oncoming hit. No, it's as if he could see the Stand itself, dashing at his face- jerking his head to the side at the last moment, and sailing that fist just past his cheek. In a series of precise strikes, marketing up the outstretched arm of the pastel guardian- That zipping blast of orange energy pillowing of from the Master's digit tips sent amassing shock-waves throughout the Stand, and there within itself? Josuke.

Like a show of power with barely any form of movement, Henric's rebuttal had turned the thrown limb into nothing but a limp flop, before the very form of Crazy Diamond, exploded into a vibrant surge of yellow flame; reverting deep into Josuke's soul in a violent shock. It felt akin to being stuck with a mountain of ice, lumbering across Josuke with a chilling feeling when his Stand was forcibly returned and refused to lurch back any further.

"G-Ghaaah!... W-What.. What did yo- HOW DID Y-YO-?!

"I can only surmise that for the entirety of your life, you've allowed another part of yourself to fight all of your battles, and whether or not you have won those fights will no longer matter in the face of those 'Monsters' you threw yourself at last night. They know who you are now, and they also know of the strange ability you possess, There is little doubt in my mind that the Demon King himself will want this power. It will not matter how many people he inadvertently kills and/or maims. He will come for you, and he WILL get what he wants." Henric crouches down to face the young man, getting right up in his face to dash any sort of detesting rebuttals he was likely to receive.

Josuke wanted to rebuttal with the conversed spout of his delinquentile manner, but he just couldn't find the words. Whether it was the jab at his throat or the fact that, deep down- He knew that Henric was right. Josuke was more involved now than he should have been, and there was little he could do to run from it now.

"Are you scared boy? You should be. Muzan Kibutsuji is the Devil incarnate. And would have will taken much joy in peeling your skin from your body, Inch.. by... INCH.

Josuke felt the weight of those words, the fear, and hate, it was evident with just the name in itself...

"T-This isn't my fight!. I'm not supposed to be here!"

"Oh for- WAKE UP BOY!. It's never really anybody's fight!" Henric paused, folding his hands onto his hips and pacing about the boy at a slow speed, explaining the factor of his situation, yet with a display of irritation to his face "But people fight regardless. They fight because they don't have a choice! They don't get to choose who their enemies are, none of us do, and neither will YOU. Everybody wants to keep everything they hold dear safe, they want to live their lives in solemn peace and quiet, but life is never that considerate. There will always be something or someone bigger than them to stand in the way. And it takes a lot more courage to face that threat head-on. You wanna survive, boy? You wanna live?" He stops, the clop of his geta cluttering against the hardwood floor; voice full of passionate anger

There's an audible click from Henric's tongue, his gesture of disapproval all the clearer by the passing second. "I don't know what the hell Kayaga saw in you, figuratively speaking, But I can imagine he must have been dazzled by your little parlor trick. My God, A Joestar? In my presence, you ain't nothin' more than a foolhardy child."

"Wait.. Kagaya-san? That blind guy from that big estate? He SAID I could leave, I thought I had a choice in this whole damn thi-."

"Yeah, you had a choice boy, and you damn well made it clear what it was when you stepped up to defend that Tamayo woman. You had plenty of chances to run away with your tail tucked between your legs, But guess what? You didn't. Boy, I told you, they know who you are. They might not know your name, but they'll sure as hell recognize your scent."

Another rift of silence... it's possible that Jojo was mulling over the events that had led him here. Was this all just some twisted test? Had Kagaya read him like an open book and- perhaps expected him to come to this conclusion? Suddenly, he felt the tense lock of his muscles relax- that strange power fading, instead; offered a hand to his feet from the overstanding male.

"Whether you like it or not, You're stuck in a hard place. But; I'm not a man who doesn't go by his word. I owe Kagaya a debt, and I'm seekin' to repay it in full. You wanna learn how to fight properly? Then you stand up. It wasn't easy when I learned, and it's taken me nearly all of my life to master the art of Hamon. Consider yourself lucky that, that nasty lookin' badge of honor; sittin' on your shoulder has gifted you with the qualifications to be a Master in no time at all. But you gotta listen to me, and you've gotta train with everything you got. You want to help people, don't you?" That hand still lingered, waiting for the teen to take the offering symbol of aid.

"...When my Gramps died... I promised that I would protect the people I cared about, That I'd protect my town from the same type of people that took the old coot from me and my Mom."

"Then don'tcha think that you've got an obligation here? Did something change to make you want to pussy foot all of your courage?"

Henric felt the pull of his hand, Accepting the help. "No. I want to get stronger- I want to be able to keep people from harm."

"Good. I'm gonna enjoy testin' that resolve of yours... Boy." There's a wicked smile on his lips; perhaps even the fact that he'd be pushing Jojo to his limit excited him. His own Master was a monk from the high mountains of Tibet. - He was there during the England incursion itself and had seen the danger of merely standing by in idle watch.

It's a funny transition really. Jojo was ready to fight the odds with a look of determination, but it only took a good half an hour before he was desperately struggling, barely having started his new regiment

Josuke was on the floor, gripping at a black apparatus strapped around his mouth and nose, struggling violently to get the damn thing off! It felt incredibly hard to breathe out of this thing, damn... he was choking here! Like breathing out of a straw!

"You're gonna keep choking if you don't listen to me, Boy. I told you; to stop breathing through your nose like an idiot, you need to use your mouth for this. Purse your lips to the side of your mouth and take in a deep, slow, breath. Hold it; then let it out in short bursts through your nostrils." The two of them were out in the courtyard, the student now forced into a set of basic exercises which; should have been easy for the bulky teen.

But the apparatus strapped across his face was limiting his breathing. It was something those that wished to become practitioners of the Ripple Art; used to train proper lung capacity, as well as focusing the mind into a constant state of breathing that, by the end of it- should come naturally to Jojo. But he was struggling; really struggling... He couldn't even take a brisk walk about the garden before choking on his own oxygen; requiring nearly a full minute before he could get back to it.

"I told you, it would be hard. I ain't one to make jokes, boy." Henric was stood in front of him, hands clasped together behind his back. He may not be able to see, but he could sure as hell hear the struggling Jojo had. As if prompted by the silence; the young girl from before; approached Henric, holding a small bundle of flowers that had recently bloomed.

"Hen-san! Hen-san! They're so pretty! Thank you for getting them for me! They grew really fast!" Her smile was contagious, big, and bright. At times, she forgot of the blindness that afflicted the older man; but he was happy despite the fact- even offering a head-pat to the long-locked child.

"Can we get some more? Please! Can we?! Pleeeeeeease?!"

"Maybe later, Su" Her bright green eyes were wide and sparkling, such a carefree child. It was a big question on how Henric came to care for the girl; perhaps something Josuke could ask when he wasn't struggling to breathe.

"Hen-san! Hen-san! Who's that?" Her attention was quick to change at times, a finger rudely pointed to Jojo who had recovered from his failing once again. He would have answered her too, but Josuke found himself coughing on his own exhale once more.

"His name is Higashikata Josuke. He'll be staying with us for a while."

"Josuke? Joooosuke... Jo...suke... Jo... Jo.. Jojo! Jojo-kun! Jojo-kun!" The nickname came to her, repeatedly spouted out in thunderous applause for her quick-witted mannerism

"C'mon boy! Step it up! You want to be ready in time for the next Final Selection, don't you?" That's right. Usually, there would be one held every year or two, but this time was a special circumstance. Despite their power; the Slayer Corps were suffering for such little numbers. So, the chance for two the happen between the span of the previously allotted time was all the more possible.

"F-Final Sel-.. CGHN!.." more coughs, lesser in frequency at least.

"That's right, I've got four months to whip you into fighting shape. If you haven't advanced past this phase by then? Then there ain't no hope for you." Henric bellows, that firmness returning when dealing with his pupil.

And so, it began- the long tedious journey to bring Josuke to fighting condition. There were a vast number of regiments the Hamon Master had planned for the Joestar Inherit, and the tasks would only grow harder with every challenge he overcame.

Training in the arts of Hamon was not to be taken lightly, it would require all of the reserves of one's strength while also testing their will to surpass their struggles with a set look of conviction. There was a reason it was known as the strongest of breathing arts, while also one of the hardest to master. Unlike Sun Breathing; Hamon was the base component for all styles. Sun Breathing itself was derived by early Ripple Teachings, extremely modified to encompass an easier training regime, though at the risk of losing the raw power. That didn't mean the Sun Breathing Style was at all weak, no; by far it was the strongest in all regards and one that could master it was all within their right to stand above all.

However, when it comes to Hamon, it is raw, undiluted, power. The User is not only drawing on the power of the Sun, they are infusing it to their very cells as well as all that they touch. It was a form of life that existed within all beings; all except the villainy of demonkind. Where the Demon Slayers required a Nichirn blade to combat the forces of the corrupt, a Hamon user needed naught but the strength of their heart, and the prime of their fists. Everything to them was a weapon. It did not come without it's drawbacks, no power is all-encompassing, there would always be a setback for people that used it. It was mentioned previously by the Record Keeper that Hamon was such a hard style to master that only people with decades worth of patience, or the biological talent of channelling it could even use it.

With all of this information known to Henric, he had to fit in an entire lifetime of training into nothing more than four months- a challenge to be sure, but not impossible. Johnathan Joestar, Josuke's predecessor; managed to have a great hold on the art before he died, and it only took him around two weeks. But only that alone was capable due to the bare basics Jonathan was taught, along with his natural talent. Josuke was different. His genes had already passed through three generations before arriving at him; and because of such a factor, he had to unlock the dormant power within through many forceful contests of practice.

Every morning at four; before the sun itself had risen - Josuke was required to run a singular lap of two blocks, all while maintaining a perfect pressure of breathing. Every time he fell or choked, he had to start again. At first, it appeared easy, but amongst the bustling route that Henric had set for him; were a series of traps and obstacles that he could only overcome by the use of his own ability. Any moment he relied on his Stand was penalized with a forcible restart, and to be sure... there were several moments that he tried.

Following that, was a combat bout with his new teacher, who did NOT hold back. Jojo couldn't count how many times he felt the hardwood floor against his spine with each flip or disabling strike he received, so many red welts and bruises on his body; they hurt like hell. Henric was a tough teacher and an ever-faster fighter. Josuke had to learn how to fight, and not in a simple street-fighter manner. He had to know how to use Martial Arts to defend himself; they would be imperative when combatting opponents that were both Demon and Human. Each week was a new move taught, ingrained into his mind over and over through sparring that he always ran short of. It was a slow process; but he was learning by bit, showing that he had a grand potential about it.

When breakfast finally rolled around, the mask was removed from his face and Josuke was given a ten-minute warning to eat before it was placed back to his features whether he finished or not. There was little time to waste on talking and chatting- so his relationship with the young Su was... strained; at first. But she enjoyed the feeling of having a pseudo big brother, always watching his progress from her cute little garden.

After breakfast came the core training of Hamon. He had to learn how to create it in his body, as well as to conduct it, and to do that - Josuke had to be in perfect synchronization with his breathing. Everything he did had to be reflected through his breathing, no matter the situation. First, Henric forces him to balance on his hands; an easy task at first- but with the sign of complete proficiency, the weight would be added. First, it was a simple twenty-two pounds, then increased by double; so on so forth - the maximum was a shocking three hundred and thirty, not even Josuke could support that much; often crumpling at the one hundred and seventy mark. There was always a complaint from the teen; whining that it was too intense, that his muscles could not handle the strain, but Henric was not privy to care, demanding he returns to his training, reminding him of the creatures he would face.

Every time Josuke failed, his Master would remark on how certain demons would feed, as well as hunt and kill. One would figure he was doing this to scare Jojo into continuing to grow in strength, but that was not the case at all. In actuality, he was engraving the patterns and combat weaknesses on the monsters he would eventually face, at times even quizzing the Joestar Inherit. When a question was answered incorrectly, more weight was added. After a while; Higashikata picked up on the cue notes, and had started to grow adept at retaining the information, spouting back with firm shouts whilst he strained beneath the heavyweights, strapped across his chest and abdomen. So, he was forced to step it up a notch. No longer was he allowed to use his flat palms, but instead- balance on the tips of his fingers. Each lesson passed, removed a finger from the equation; resulting in just the firm pointer tips pressing him from the ground.

Next, breathing training. He sat amidst the middle of the garden, told to do nothing but align his mental state with his inhales. He'd be there for hours on end; eyes closed with an intense look on his face, even the veins of his head bulging at the sheer amount of concentration he had to work through just to keep himself in rhythm. In through the mouth, out through the nostrils in bursts... he was not to react to anything- even the act of Henric; aided by Su, throwing rocks his way. They'd bounce and clutter from him refused to react in any shape or form. If he couldn't keep focus like this, then how could he manage it in the heat of battle when one's muscles are already sore from combat, and the strain of breath is all too familiar.

After Lunch? Lung Capacity. The Student had to stay submerged in a deep tub of water to increase his lung capacity. Before he started it was shoddy at best, and akin to the balancing set, he had a large rock in his lap, sinking him down to the water, though of course carefully added when Henric deemed fit. Jojo had to be capable of storing vast amounts of reserves, he had to be one with his art, and it had to be one with him. Besides; this was really the only notion of a bath he ever got when his regiment was all too time-consuming.

When it came down to the act of actually conducting the power of the Ripple itself, there was just a simple test set for Josuke to surpass. In the middle of the courtyard sat a hardwood tree that had bested the test of time. Its trunk was wide and its routes were deep-reaching; here long before the building of Henric's estate that was for sure. On one side of the trunk was a single piece of paper, pinned to the bark with a red X across it - to the opposite side was Josuke, instructed rather specifically to hit the tree with everything he had learned, and split the paper on the other side. An impossible task to be sure, until the Master himself demonstrated by severing the paper into thousands of pieces with just the mere tip of his finger.

All of this, and the added strain of a late bedtime, had to continue for another four months. Whenever he beat a challenge, another was replaced in it's stead - a feeling that made him wonder if he had made any progress at all. Maybe of the nights, Josuke would lay awake in his bed, thinking to the time he had with all of his friends. He wondered if he would ever see Okuyasu and Koichi again, hell... even his Mom for that matter. But he pushed himself through, all with the wish that one day, he would see them again. He just had to believe that if he put his all into this training, the teen would have the power to overcome it all.

Hello again everyone! This chapter's minor supporting character 'Su' is inspired by the character Tsumugi Inuzuka! Hopefully, that should give you a good idea of what the young cutie looks like. Until the next chapter, I hope you enjoy the read!

(edit) I changed the chapter around since I wanted to focus more on Josuke's training here. Next Chapter will focus on Senjuro ^^b