The skies above Air Suplena Island were a clear cobalt blue, broken only by the sharp white cliffs and terraced ruins that clung to the coastline. A soft sea breeze rolled in from the Adriatic, brushing against ancient stone columns and sun-bleached training rings left behind by generations of Ripple users. Here, history echoed louder than the waves.
John Joestar stood in the center of the old stone ring, sweat clinging to his brow, breath steady but shallow. He had already run barefoot up and down the winding stone stairs of the cliffside temple, lifted water-filled jars using only his fingertips, and held his breath under the frigid waterfall for what felt like hours. But this next step? It was the real deal.
Joseph stood before him, older now, weathered and scarred, but still carrying that same devilish grin he always had. The sun gleamed off his silver hair as he stepped into the ring, clapping his hands together with a loud crack.
"Alright, Johnny-boy," he said, rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up. "Time to wake up your Hamon."
John tensed. "You're sure about this?"
Joseph smirked. "Absolutely not. That's what makes it fun."
Joseph's expression hardened. "Breathe in. Deep. From the diaphragm. Now!"
John obeyed, drawing in a slow, deliberate breath—
THWACK!
Joseph's hand struck his son square in the chest—right over the lungs. The air whooshed out of John in a painful gasp. His body convulsed, and he dropped to his knees, wheezing. His hands clawed at the dirt.
"Can't... breathe…"
"Good," Joseph said, crouching beside him. "Now you'll learn how to really breathe."
A pulse of golden energy surged through John. A strange warmth ignited in his chest—a rhythm, a beat, like sunlight flowing through his blood.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[Hamon Mastery] Unlocked!
Your cells are now resonating with the Ripple.
You may now begin Hamon Training.
A tingling sensation started at his fingertips, spreading through his veins like electricity. The ground beneath him shimmered. Light rippled across his skin. The world felt sharper, more alive. He could feel the pulse of the ocean, the hum of life in the trees, the warmth of the sun not just on his face, but in his blood.
Joseph crouched beside him, grinning. "That, kiddo, is Hamon."
John gasped, clutching his chest. "You jabbed me in the lungs!"
"You'll thank me later," Joseph said, chuckling.
John looked up, the pain fading under the rising warmth in his chest. "Grandma Lisa Lisa... She really trained you here?"
Joseph stood, staring out at the sea. His smile softened, touched with nostalgia. "Yup. Right here. She was scary as hell back then. Would've made your modern SHIELD agents cry like babies."
He paused, then laughed. "Now she's living it up in the Hollywood Hills. Married some screenwriter, if you can believe it."
John laughed, the pain finally ebbing away. He rose to his feet, hands still tingling. "I remember her. She always smelled like lavender and kicked my ass at chess."
Joseph's grin widened. "Yep. That's Lisa Lisa."
The wind picked up again, and this time John could feel it—truly feel it. The movement, the flow, the rhythm. Not the same energy he used to power Tusk, but more wild, natural, almost as if, it was Alive.
Hamon.
He closed his eyes.
The weight of the sky pressed down on him.
And for the first time… he felt ready to carry it.
-<<>o<>>-
The sun hung low over Air Suplena, casting long shadows across the training fields. John stood barefoot on the cracked stone, fists clenched, chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm Joseph had drilled into him.
His Ripple was faint — but it was there, buzzing under his skin like a second heartbeat.
Across from him, Weather Report floated lazily, arms crossed. The Stand's emotionless gaze locked onto John, awaiting his next move.
John exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself.
"Alright... Let's try this," he muttered.
With a flick of his fingers, tiny gusts of wind began to swirl around him — a trick he'd picked up during his first fumbling experiments with Weather Report.
The Stand responded instantly, strengthening the breeze until it whirled into a small localized storm around John. The wind lifted pebbles and dust from the ground, swirling in a tight vortex.
John shifted his stance, breathing deeply, drawing the Ripple into his arms.
Breathe in the pattern. Feel the energy flow. Focus...
He darted forward, using the wind to boost his speed — a rough, clumsy imitation of flight.
He stumbled slightly on the landing, cursing under his breath.
Joseph, sitting nearby on a worn bench, barked out a laugh.
"You call that flying?! I've seen chickens with better air time!"
John gritted his teeth, trying again. This time, he pushed the air underneath his steps — not to fly, but to soften his movements, to control them. He lashed out with a Ripple-imbued punch, the force of the blow cracking the air.
Weather Report moved without needing commands, summoning a low-lying cloud to absorb the blow harmlessly.
John blinked.
"Okay... that was kinda cool," he admitted with a grin.
He spent the next hour refining the basics:
Boosting his jumps with gusts of wind.
Using fog banks to blind an opponent.
Coating his fists in Ripple before attacking through a cushion of moist air.
It wasn't clean. It wasn't perfect. But it was progress.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, John collapsed onto his back, arms splayed out, chest heaving.
Above him, Weather Report drifted closer, tilting its head curiously.
John just laughed — a rough, tired sound.
"We'll get there... Eventually," he whispered.
The evening wind answered with a soft, encouraging whisper.
-<<>o<>>-
Several months passed after John first unlocked the Ripple.
The training on Air Suplena Island was nothing short of brutal.
Each day began before dawn. John would wake to the cries of seabirds and the stinging cold of the ocean wind, muscles already sore from the previous day's grueling drills. Joseph showed no mercy, driving him harder with every breath.
"You think breathing is enough, Johnny boy?" Joseph barked as he hurled a wooden staff at him. "Breathing is survival! You screw it up — you die."
John ducked under the swing, chest rising and falling in a steady, powerful rhythm. Every breath now carried the Ripple through his blood, strengthening his cells, reinforcing his body from the inside out.
He sprinted across ropes strung high over jagged cliffs, keeping his Hamon flowing to stay balanced. He meditated under crashing waterfalls, focusing the Ripple to repel the icy force. He channeled energy into leaves, into stones, into his very footsteps — the world around him buzzing subtly whenever he moved.
Weeks bled into months, and John Joestar changed.
His strength surged. His stamina became monstrous, enough to run laps around the island without pause. His constitution toughened, shrugging off bruises and cuts that once would've crippled him. And the fighting spirit inside him, once a mere ember, now burned steadier — not yet a wildfire, but a flame that refused to die.
Sometimes at night, after a day of endless training, he'd collapse onto the worn stone steps of the old training temple. Joseph would sit nearby, a smirk on his face as he watched John panting like a dog.
"Not bad, kid," he'd say. "Not bad at all. Still got a long way to go though."
John would just laugh weakly, Ripple energy still buzzing faintly through his arms.
[SYSTEM UPDATE — John Joestar's Current Stats]
Name :John Joestar
Age :17
Race :Human
Title :None
Alignment : Chaotic Good.
Stand Slot : Tusk Act: 2, Weather Report
Strength: 15
Agility: 15
Endurance: 20
Constitution: 20
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 8
Fighting Spirit: 2
[Skills:]
Spin Mastery: 25% → 42%
Hamon Mastery: 0% → 37%
John Joestar was no longer the boy who had woken up broken in that hospital bed. He was something else now. Something stronger.
The sky above Air Suplena burned red as the sun set—and John clenched his fists, feeling the energy thrumming under his skin.
The weight of the sky no longer crushed him. It pushed him forward.