Chapter Text
Music fills your very soul. The crowd, the stage, the sound, the swing; isn’t that the reason why we do it? I like to think it’s that simple.
A soft clap of thunder rolled through the cloudy skies. The rain had already come and gone. An overheard conversation filled with chatter between friends and from what she could tell, in the faintest corner of her mind, there was the mute hum of music, though she could have just imagined it. Asami walked through the wet, grassy quad of Republic City University. Raindrops lingered on the green blades and tinged the sidewalk edges a peculiar gray and brown color. Students walked in pairs, in groups and alone through the walkways to get to classrooms or their cars and their dorms.
The morning had been gray with patchy, rough showers that appeared across the city and over the mountains. Streaks of light seared themselves through the cloud coverage at certain spots and illuminated some areas. The wet grass had been one of them and Asami watched the light with its odd shape travel alongside her. Raindrops on roses lined the area near the arts building and she turned left down the path to get to her next class. There were shorter ways, but this way was the only one with the vibrant red roses and the healthy green grass; and the very rare, off-chance of the music. It sometimes lingered out of open window on the third floor which was drenched in fresh rainwater.
Even through the low, rumbling thunder in the distance, Asami could hear the gradual ascent of a bass line and the light taps of a drummer’s jazz kit. She continued to walk forward but slowed when she arrived underneath the window. Her breath left her lips in anticipation. Maybe she wouldn’t hear it today.
Asami sighed and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. There were water droplet stains on her crimson jacket. She focused on wiping the excess water off her lapel but as she swept the water away, she heard the breath of someone echo from a brassy trumpet. The dulcet tones and harsh turns through the tubes made her shiver. She thought there was so much emotion thrown into that sound, so real and powerful that she could feel it thirty feet below. The slow descent and then a sudden burst of sound in time with the drums and the piano and the bass. Each piece combined to create something she never knew existed. Every instrument as powerful as the next, but that trumpet still shined through as it followed the valleys and mountains across the rows of the sheet music.
Asami stopped dead in her tracks. Rain hit the thick plastic frame of her glasses and fell down onto the lenses, leaving a trail of smaller droplets. She didn’t care though, the song was flowing through her, she could feel the power of the musicians, their talent, their ambition. She knew this one from somewhere. It had been a while since she could listen to it, all the vinyl and the record player stayed at home. The bass line bounced like the thunder in the sky and she imagined the faceless quartet on stage drenched in hot lights and silhouetted by a velvet curtain. She heard a faint voice in the midst of the music, then another on certain words. They were both feminine sounding, one soft and the other with a little more gravitas. She could make out the words.
‘They're writing songs of love, but not for me,’ The gentler voice hummed. The piano keys tapped away and the unknown musician pressed on the pedals.
‘A lucky star's above, but not for me,’ A different, raspier tone appeared. She took deep breaths between the lyrical lines. Asami could hear the soul in her voice.
‘With love to lead the way, I've found more clouds of gray,’ A harmonious clash of malleable and immovable, but they came together beautifully.
The bass played on and pulled the strings with greater gaps. Then the song faded out and the quiet thunder over the mountains now was all Asami could hear. She stood there for a moment and hoped they would start up again, but it was only met with silence. Her class had started already, but she wanted more. She waited another second while she took a step forward.
“Guess they’re done for today.” She sighed and walked down the sidewalk. Her fingertips still tingled and she balled them up into fists and shook them out. She wanted to hold onto that feeling, but class distractions aren’t any good for an engineering student.
She opened the classroom door and the chatter of students in groups at large, wooden tables blew away the tingling feeling. It was like the exact opposite of the trumpet she heard just moments ago; it sobered her up and out of the jazzed filled stupor. She took her seat with her group. She had lucked out for the project and was in a group with some friends from her dorm. Her bag still hung off her shoulder and she stared at the ceiling as the others busied themselves with chit chat.
“Hey Asami you okay?” The dark haired girl across the table, Kaori asked. The remainder of the group stopped what they were doing to look at her. She didn’t break her eye contact with the water stained ceiling tile.
“I’m fine.” She let out a breath of tired air.
“We have a lot of work to do on the project…”
“What happened to you?” Rei, a shorter girl with an undercut and stylized hair chimed in from across the table.
“I don’t know. I think I heard something amazing today.”
“Like what?” Another girl intruded.
“Like a confession?” Kaori asked.
“Like music?” Rei butted in again.
Asami kept staring at the ceiling, she leaned back and the front legs lifted off the ground. She could still feel the sticks tip-toeing on the cymbal and the air escaping from the bell of the horn. “Something like jazz.”
“Oh I see. Our little engineer over here is in love.” Kaori giggled and nudged Asami’s absent minded shoulder.
Asami looked at them and slammed the suspended metal legs back onto the scuffed tile. “I’m not. I meant like real jazz. I heard it today out in the quad.” She begged with her bright red face.
“Oh I see,” Kaori waved her hand in apology, “My bad. Hey if you like jazz that much why not come out with us tonight? We’re going to that jazz bar with the three dollar drinks!” The girls all agreed and asked her to go with them in their own voice. “Whaddya say Asami?”
She had calmed down from the sudden embarrassment and her green eyes soothed over from panic to gratefulness. Her red tinted face returned back to being more pale and she relaxed her upturned shoulders. Asami sighed, she knew she couldn’t go. “Sorry, I can’t. I have a lot of work to do tonight. Maybe next time?”
The group recoiled back to their seats disappointed. “We’ll get you next time Asami, you better come with.” Rei griped in a joking way.
She laughed, “Okay, okay. Next time, I promise.”
When class ended she walked by the arts building again. The roses were still wet and the grass seemed even brighter as the cloud coverage dissipated. The window opened upwards and rain fell right off it and down onto the walkway but there was no sound, no music. The washed brick building stood tall and silent, she could hear the chirping of a bird escaping the canopy of a tree as it flew over the rigid roof. Interspersed groups were scattered about the quad, the white soles of their shoes were stained green by the wet grass.
She spotted some familiar faces across the way but mostly some unfamiliar ones, possibly some freshman who just started their second semester. Her frustration showed through and Asami audibly huffed. She decided to go back to her dorm for the day. Maybe she could hear the trumpeter again tomorrow, though that was the first time she had heard that motley crue in a number of weeks.
She came back the next day and the clouds had disappeared, though it was still cold and the music was still gone. Asami would walk by the building every day for class, she would make sure to be there at the same time she heard them practicing that day. Although she knew it was a long shot but in the off chance she could hear that song again, it was worth the effort.
Every day for three weeks she came back and stood below that open window. The rainy weather persisted off and on, while winter made its approach. The window never faltered or closed but still there was no music. And unlike the corrugated glass, Asami had become discouraged. In her mind, she could hear the clap of the cymbals, the trumpeter pressing down the valves with their forceful, yet skilled fingers, the pianist hitting key after key in tune with the plucked strings of the bass. The song and its musicians haunted her; they were still silhouettes on the grand stage. It was all a bit frustrating. Her nights stuck in the library surrounded by textbooks were filled with her unsharpened pencil hitting away at the drum’s notes.
The library was empty and Asami was lost in a sea of text on a dense page. “What could it be?” She tapped her eraser on the book’s spine. The sentences were being repeated and she couldn’t stop herself from doing it. A tap on her shoulder jutted her from her deep thought.
“Hey.” Kaori leaned down with a smile and placed a hand on the table to steady herself..
“Oh hey, you scared me.”
“Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to. I was leaving just now and figured I’d ask you one more time. Want to come to the jazz bar tonight? It’s really fun and the music is great.”
Asami sighed and looked down at her work, then over to her checklist which was a mile long with one box ticked away at the very top. “I can’t,” She pressed her fingers against her forehead. “Sorry. I’m just swamped right now.”
“Don’t worry about it Asami, you’ve been pretty distracted lately.”
“Tell me about it.” She huffed with a laugh.
“Well I hope you figure it out. I have to get going, see you tomorrow.” Kaori skipped away with her bag.
“See ya.” Asami sighed and placed her head on the nonsensical textbook pages. In an instant she threw her hands up in the air and looked up at the bright lights in the ceiling. “What’s the name of the damn song?” She brought her voice down to a whisper and it played off the thin textbook pages
Four hours later, the morning arrived and Asami forced herself up out of her comfortably warm bed. The floor was cold and her candle she lit after arriving home from the library had soaked up all the wax, but it filled her dorm room with a pleasant scent. She slipped on her heavy jacket, grabbed the black umbrella that laid near the door and headed to class. The humid air made it feel like she was sweating as she walked to class. The hallway that adjoined to her dorm entrance was a more direct route compared to her usual detour near the silent arts building with its brick dusted siding and propped open windows.
The cloudy sky limited the sunlight which gave the entire school an eerie glow with the fluorescent lights that tiled the hallways, classrooms and auditoriums. The strange light was rough on Asami’s tired eyes. She arched her back and raised her hand to her mouth to cover a yawn; and brought that hand down to grasp the handle of the approaching doorway. A quick turn of her wrist opened it and revealed the bustling classroom. The windows that lined the far side of the room were bent open, letting in the cold, rainy winter air.
Asami surveyed the room, the groups were at their own tables chatting amongst themselves. Through all the talk noise and as she spotted Kaori and Rei at the table nearest the front of the classroom, Asami heard a faint but naggingly familiar sound. The green grass of the quad was visible through the misted windows. She listened past the rain and the chatter and wondered if it really was them she was hearing or just her mind focusing on the song she couldn’t forget. Then, through all the noise and her intense listening, the rain cleared and the chatter stopped when the blaring breath of the trumpeter roared from outside. The world seemed to stop and the skip of her heartbeat gave a small moment of clarity.
“Hey Asami!” Rei hollered from the front of the room.
Without a word, Asami dropped her notebook and umbrella onto the floor. The wet fabric shook the water of itself with each impact as it settled onto the linoleum. Kaori and Rei looked up at her with questioning faces, though they didn’t get to ask anything. Asami turned back around and ran down the hallway to the quad exit. She pushed the heavy metal door out of her way, the hi-hat began to tap out a one, two, three beat. She could hear the keys of the piano strike the actions and reverberate the strings. They were there.
The doors swung open and the outside air and rain hit her, soaking her jacket; though she didn’t really care in that moment. She passed the dew covered roses and grass, all she could see of them were green and red blurs. A hard left into another set of doors at the end of the building brought her to a wide staircase. She ascended the stairs, hitting each step quickly and precisely. The music became louder and more pronounced as she climbed.
The hallway was empty and some of the lights in the ceiling flickered in and out. The audible clicks from the glass tubes were drowned out by a flood of music. It was so powerful that Asami staggered as she approached the source, which was a roughed up door with a cracked window pane. The music escaped through the missing shards of glass. She bent down and peered through the holes, the music slapped against her face and she felt like tapping her foot and bouncing along to the beat.
All that could be seen through the patchy glass was the wooden back of a vertical piano. Asami could barely see the top of the player’s head as it bobbed up and down in unison with each chord. The music washed over her and Asami stood there in awe. Her body felt light and she couldn’t help but smile. She decided to wait until the song ended to knock. She didn’t want to interrupt and if she was being completely honest with herself, she wouldn’t have minded staying there all day, just listening to the mystery troupe.
Her giddiness made the song fly by and when she realized the music had faded out she held a fist against the door. Asami hesitated for a moment and wondered what she would say or what it was okay to ask or what if they were all really intimidating. It ran through her head at a mile a minute. She sighed and reaffirmed herself and nodded her head up and down. She put on a face filled with confidence and proudly knocked on the beaten up wood.
She could hear the sound of instruments being put into their cases or set on top of tables and a muffled shift of bodies moving about the room. A chair made a scratching noise as the person stood up from it. Asami could hear hearty footsteps coming closer and closer toward the door. The cracks in the window were covered by a black shirt. The silver handle turned over and pulled itself into the classroom.
A guy stood in the threshold. He had messy brown hair that topped his angular face. Sweat pearled on his forehead and his chest heaved up and down with each tired breath. He clenched the side of the door and his forearm tensed intermittently.
“Can I help you?” He spoke between heavy breaths. Asami looked past him and could spy a girl with green eyes and short hair next to the piano and a broad shouldered guy with equally green eyes balancing a standup bass behind her. They were looking over the shoulders of the guy in front of her. His form was imposing, even as he breathed heavily.
Asami returned her focus to him and stumbled with her words. “Yeah, uh, um, were you guys playing in here a few weeks ago?”
He raised one eyebrow and planted his other hand on his hip. “Hmm probably. Some other music clubs play in here but it’s mostly just us, “ He turned back and looked at the two near the piano and Asami spied a something poking out of his back pocket. “Why do you want to know?” He said as he turned back to her.
Asami leaned back in her stance at the question. “I heard you playing a song and I can’t get it out of my head. Could you tell me what is was?”
The green eyed boy next to the piano perked up, “We play a lot songs here lady, you’re gonna have to be more specific.” Asami heard the short haired girl next to him punch him in the arm. He yelped out a stinging ow.
“Bo, be nice.” She hissed.
“Sorry, sorry.” He chuckled with a little bit of hurt behind it.
Asami’s eyes bounced between them, she couldn’t think of the right way to summarize. “It was raining,” She blurted out. “Two girls were singing. The trumpet player was amazing with the solo before the singing.” The words left her mouth along with the ghostly admiration of the trumpeter.
The three looked at one another and then back into the far corner of the room. They stared off over there for a moment with questioning looks. The man turned his attention out the door as all of their eyes shifted back to Asami. She looked him up and down, worry poured from her face.
“Not For Me,” He spoke. Asami turned one eyebrow up at him. “Not For Me by Chet Baker. On his singing album from 1952. Sound familiar?”
“Yes! Wow, you really know your stuff.” Asami bellowed happily. She knew the song from somewhere, she couldn’t place it in her memory but the relief of meeting the musicians was enough. She wanted to hear them play more, she needed to hear more.
“So was that all you needed?” The doorman removed his foot as the door started to close.
“No wait!” She persisted. “If it isn’t too much trouble, could I.. You know, sit in on your session? I would like to listen.” She batted her large green eyes at him.
“Well, uh…” He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck. The two in the back nodded yes when he looked over to him. He rolled his shoulders into a shrug, “Sure, why not. Come on in.”
“Thank you so much,” Asami took a step forward as the man held the door open. “So are you the trumpet player?” She looked up at him as she passed through the doorway. He scoffed under his breath and reached into his back pocket.
“Nope,” He held two drumsticks in his hand. They were made of a light wood and had dents and scratches all over them. “I’m a drummer. Name’s Mako by the way.”
“Oh,” She was surprised. “I’m Asami. I study engineering here.” She moved into the classroom and looked at the boy and girl near the piano.
“No need to be so formal,” The green eyed girl stood back up from the vertical piano. “I’m Opal, obviously I play the piano,” She gestured to the grand looking instrument. “And to my right is Bolin, he plays bass.”
The boy rolled his hand over in a bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Opal nudged him and he almost lost his balance.
“Now who’s being formal?” Opal giggled at his stumbling form.
Asami waved at the both of them with a smile. They seemed to get along well, Mako too. She looked around at the three of them. “Pleasure to meet you both,” She gave a similar bow without the balance issue. She brought herself back up to eye level. “Wait, so who is the trumpet player then?”
“Right. You’ll want Korra then. She’s over there.” Bolin pointed toward the far side of the room. Asami turned and stopped in her tracks. A girl sat on a desk near the windows, particularly the one that had been propped open the those last few weeks. She wore a navy dress shirt and black jeans. The first thing Asami noticed was her darker complexion, like Opal’s but somehow different in tone. Her arms were outstretched, pressing her hands against the desk top and her eyelids gently closed on top of one another. There was a subtle smile on her tan face. Asami’s eyes trailed down Korra’s frame and ended on her bare feet. A pair of brown loafers were coupled on the floor near her precarious seat.
Asami tried not to look so surprised, though it wasn’t that her mystery trumpeter was a woman, but it had more to do with her appearance and demeanor. Her stylish clothes, bare feet and her dress shirt sleeves were rolled up; each of her pant legs were rolled up at different lengths as well. All of these things surprised her. Korra’s eyes fluttered open, revealing a striking pair of light blue eyes. Asami looked at the blinking eyes and saw the ocean, deep and fleeting, similar to the offhand trumpet playing that she heard through the window that day and again, three weeks prior.
Korra dismounted the desk and looked Asami up and down. She picked up a towel that was resting on her silver lined trumpet case and tossed it over to her. “You’re soaked. Dry off and we’ll start playing again.”
Asami caught the towel with ease. It was clean and smelled like fresh flowers. She removed her jacket and pressed it against her shirt. “Thank you.” Her voice was weak and her cheeks were a little red. She thought it was from the chill of the rainwater and the air conditioning, but maybe it was Korra. Her mind still ran wildly in the satisfying ending she found for her dilemma, she couldn’t tell which it really was. Korra stood up from the desk, tucked her trumpet between her side and her arm and shoved her hands in her pockets. She slowly walked toward the group.
Asami sat down in a chair near the piano and toweled off her hair. Bolin and Mako returned to their instruments and Korra stood in the front but faced them. She meddled with the valves and tubing of her trumpet, wiping it down with a microfiber cloth that was tucked away in her shirt pocket.
Opal slid over the piano bench to the end next to Asami and leaned in close to her. “Hey what are you doing tomorrow afternoon?” She whispered as Bolin plucked at his bass strings and Mako adjusted his freestanding cymbal.
Asami turned her head as she continued to wipe down her hair with the towel. “Umm nothing that I can think of. Midterm projects ended last week so I’m free for a while.”
Opal turned towards her and smiled. “Would you want to sit in for our session tomorrow too? We’re trying to get a gig soon and we’ve really amped up our practice schedule. You can come whenever you--”
“You like jazz?” Korra interrupted and looked up from her instrument. The reflection of her face and the room surrounding her was skewed and distorted in the gold brass mirror.
Asami paused and stuttered. “Uhh, yes. I do.” Her voice trailed off in an awkward rasp.
Korra looked affectionately at her trumpet, moving it around in her gripped hands. “Who do you listen to? If you don’t mind me askin’.”
Asami readjusted herself in the metal chair and let out a thought-filled hum. “I guess the classics mostly? I’ve been listening to Bill Evans and Art Blakey since I was a kid.”
“Okay. You play anything?” Korra pushed further, bouncing between her feet. The rolled up pants revealed a feather band that wrapped around her ankle.
“Piano when I was young, but no. I sang in choir for a while.” Asami smiled nervously, the line of questioning gradually became more intense.
“Hmm.. Favorite piece?” Korra pressed down the golden valves in a quick succession. They slid effortlessly between the brass casings and rose back up as she released her fingers from their caps.
“Moanin’, it’s too good.” Asami smiled and raised her eyebrow at the rigorous questions. Her confidence beamed out in the muggy yet cold room.
“Interesting,” Korra staggered herself and looked around at the musicians and nodded at them. She curled her bare toes on the linoleum and tapped out a count. “Then, let’s roll with that.”
