Trigram: Black Iris - A Superhero Story - HIATUS

Chapter One

Striking a bag always was a good outlet for Hechen Huang. The bag never hit back.

The gym was relatively small by gym standards, in an inconspicuous street corner. The floor was covered by dark green mats and the worn walls painted a crispy, metallic blue. The cheap red punch bags of various shapes and sizes littered around the edges of the room were the most eye-catching objects in the whole facility, save one bag in particular. Distinctly older, battered and deformed from countless kicks, elbow strikes, forearm strikes, knees, slaps and punches by Hechen over the last three and a half years.

Hechen delivered a final punch with a yell. The chains rattled at the heavy bag it bound shook, nodding mockingly at Hechen as it bounced from side to side.

His breath shook as well as he slumped down onto the floor. He wiped his hands down his face, panting.

That was uncoordinated. Unaligned. Uncentered.

Being centred started to become more and more difficult for Hechen recently, not that it was easy before. It was easier before.

A squeak. The door opened.

"What did that bag ever do to you?"

Hechen looked up. It was Shay, a welcome presence.

Shayne Cohen, or Shay as everyone (only Hechen) called him, was a tall, thin man. Just over twenty years old, slightly older than Hechen himself. Although from South Africa, he moved to London at a young age, something Hechen could relate to, having arrived nine years earlier.

Having thought about it, Hechen did saw himself in Shay, and vice versa, he presumed. That was probably why Shay let him into his gym free. Then again, the gym's membership fee was practically non-existent to those that were less able.

There were many ways the two differ from each other significantly. Hechen accessed much higher quality education, Shay did not. Hechen consistently held a lazy, inept posture while Shay was always upright, straight, with an air of authority. Hechen hated rap music.

Smiling, Hechen shrugged at the question.

"You are breaking out equipment you know," said Shay, walking toward his friend, "Luckily you're limiting your damage to this bag only."

"It's my personal bag now, I guess. You never change it."

"Because it's your personal one now I guess."

Hechen stood himself up to greet Shay. They fist bump.

"So," Shay said after a moment of silence, "what's up?"

Hechen shrugged, "the sky?"

Shay sighed, "Seriously, what's up? You are now an employee at SEM-freaking-TOR! The top tech company in the world! What's got you so... punchy?"

"It's not a tech company, it's a think tank," Hechen sat on the seat, "and I'm not a full employee, I'm a researcher on the payroll who will continue working on a PhD after I finish university. That being said, this is finally a chance for me to be someone important, to be able to change the world but-"

He glanced up at Shay's questioning look, sighing, "I just... Don't feel like I'm... Enough. Not enough."

Shay stood silent for a moment, right before throwing a punch at Hechen's face. Hechen ducked out of the way.

"Dude!"

"A bit of sparring should help," Shay jabbed, "quick round before the club starts."

Hechen rolled back onto the mat, holding up a defensive stance, "Okay-"

Stepping back just to avoid a side kick, he sent a drilling fist up followed by a chopping palm downwards to Shay's face, which he quickly avoided.

"Honestly dude," said Shay as they circled each other, "you have nothing to worry about, you're doing great. There're people who'd never dare to dream about getting to where you are now."

"Yeah, yeah..."

Shay threw another punch at Hechen, who turned to seize the arm, preparing to perform a bagua throw. Shay struck Hechen's hands away, dropped down for a kick from the ground.

The kick connected, Hechen rolled back to dissipate the energy. He steadied himself, "That's probably enough for today."

Hechen began to gather his stuff, packing up.

"Going already? The club is starting soon, not joining us?"

"Nah," Hechen shook his head, slinging the bag over his shoulder, "I don't feel I uh... comfortable? I mean I'm different-"

"You're always welcome here mate."

"Yeah..." Hechen walked out of the door, nearly walking into a young girl with dark blue spots on her cheeks, "Woah!"

The girl froze up, mouth open. She glanced nervously at Shay, who waved her to come in.

She smiled stiffly at Hechen. Hechen smiled back, before strode out into the streets, walking away.

Shay ran the Shock Club, or just 'the Club' as folks call it, a martial arts gym dedicated to acting as a support and providing a community for all powers of Fall Park.

Life in this area of London has always been difficult, with gangs and violence and all the noise. But after the incident six years ago, things became even harder for the unfortunate 2% who became powers. One may think that the 2% were 'lucky' to receive those gifts, to have abilities only possible in comic books, and that may be so, but in reality, it's complicated. Things are always complicated in reality.

What would anyone feel if suddenly people could burst fire out of their hands, become bulletproof, control the power of lightning itself? Especially after multiple cases of houses being accidentally destroyed and people being injured. People feared these powers, quite understandably. But overtime, fear turned to hate, hate fuelled violence, particularly in already violent areas like Fall Park.

Shay was an empath, not having any abnormal appearances, luckily harder for people to identify him as a power, but there were commonly used ways to identify powers.

Hechen sighed. A thin, stick-like man walked past, another member of the Club. Hechen tried not to look at him, did not want to be emotionally attached to these people, it would only lead to inconveniences he did not need.

He paused as he passed a book shop window. The newest best sellers were on display, their titles flashed glaringly on their generically-designed covers. Reflected in the glass were two lampposts across the street, one is painted black, the other also painted black.

Hechen noticed the reflection of himself looking back blankly. He tilted his head. The reflection tilted its head. He stared into his own dark eyes, hollow like pits. He rubbed his eyes. When did he look so tired?

The tall figure of the reflection stared back. Short, unkept black hair, thick eyebrows, a freshly shaved chin, not that it had much need of shaving, just the odd hair here and there... Just so... ordinary.

Hechen looked at his own dark jacket, white jumper, black trousers and trainers. Some old, some new, all functional.

He smiled. The reflection smiled back.

Happy.