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The Antarctic winds howled in the chilly night air. Hundreds of penguins huddled together for warmth, hoping for their partners’ return from the fishing grounds. It was a hard life, but it was their lot, and who could refuse such a thing?
The krill could. It was they who had adapted to nature’s harsh ways and moved to the great ice floe of Emperor-Land.
All two million of them were sleeping placidly through the storm.
All but one.
***
The water was pitch black, save for the light of a solitary krill. William Williams drifted through the undercurrent, calling out into the great void.
“Bill? Bill!”
Not even an echo greeted him in return.
“I… I’m sorry, Bill! I never should have pushed you away!”
His primitive heart was racing. No, no, this couldn’t be the end. He couldn’t leave things how they were, floating in a sea of heartbreak and rejection.
An anguished scream flowed through the water. No one heard. Will curled into himself and began to weep.
“This isn’t… this can’t be the end…”
He could see a light in the distance. Could it be…?
“Bill? Bill?”
His tail propelled him as fast as it could go, and he prayed to the Krillympians that his love was alright. If anything happened to him…
The glow of five detached krill legs met his eyes.
…he would never forgive himself.
“No! Bill! Please, Krill, no, no, no…”
The water darkened as the legs’, and Will’s own, light went out. There was no reason to keep going. Not without Bill.
He closed his eyes and surrendered to the depths of despair.
“Will? Will?”
A familiar voice sounded from all around him. But that was impossible. Bill was… well… wait.
How exactly had Will gotten here in the first place?
“Will! Wake up!”
He bolted upright and gasped for water, thorax heaving. Next to him sat Bill. Bill, who was whole and alive and still missing those legs.
“Bill! Oh, Krill…” Will whispered.
Bill put a few arms around his partner and drew him close. “It was a nightmare, Will. It’s okay. We’re under the ice with the rest of the swarm. We’re safe.”
Will choked back a sob. “But your legs, Bill. You lost so many because I was too damn arrogant to think of anyone but myself.”
Bill shook his head softly. “There’s no use in blaming yourself for something that you couldn’t do anything about. That wasn’t your fault. And besides,” he said, waving his free legs around, “We adapt. What’s a little limb loss to a krill like me?”
He pulled their algae blanket over the both of them and kissed Bill’s forehead. “It’s still early. Let’s try to get some more sleep, yeah? I’ll be right here.”
Will stared into Bill’s’ big, black eyes; it was as if the whole ocean shone through them. He smiled.
“I love you, Bill.”
“I love you too, Will.”
Two million and one krill were sleeping placidly through a storm. And two of them held each other tight.