Technically speaking, it's one person who dislikes the other one… This particular other one would be ready to swear on a stack of Bibles that he's never in his entire life disliked anyone (except maybe for the TV executives who decided to take Funny Bunny off the air, and blighted the entire second half of his childhood). This other person we're talking about doesn't "do" dislike; his attitudes of choice are amusement and occasionally, when that doesn't get the point across sufficiently, sarcastic amusement. If you asked him, he'd probably say it's the former of these that he feels for the spiky-haired little duelist in the cab with him.
And if you'd happened to ask the spiky-haired one? Oh, do… Go ahead, do it now. You can ask him in his soul-room, I am sure Yuugi will let you borrow it for a moment, and tell me, aren't you dying to see the response you'll get? I know I am.
…There, you're back? What did he say?
Oh, ho, ho, he feels enough dislike for both of them, does he? What a wonderfully Pharaonic response. You know really, sometimes one has to wonder, how much of that temper Atemu has always had, and how much of it comes of his having sat in that Puzzle for seven thousand years. One hopes it's the latter, doesn't one? Really, one wouldn't have liked to be ruled by him if he was always like that.
…All right anyway, here we are back at the cab now, aren't we? And our silver-haired protagonist… He's the good-looking one, in the very well-chosen red velvet suit. …We re-enter the cab, and he's just saying, "…Comic book store…" He's saying something about a comic book store, and then he says, "But I know a very nice restaurant, quite near here, and I would be delighted to take you there as my guest instead."
And the one with the tricolor hairstyle glowers at him, his eyes just the faintest wrong shade of red, to go with the red streaks in his hair. He makes his own comment, something about stalled oxen, and dinners of herbs that are eaten in peace, which if translated, probably means that he wishes he were sharing a bag of senbei and some canned coffee with those nonentity-friends he keeps so close right now, instead of here in this cab.
Our hero though, as usual, remains polite. It's not like he doesn't have plenty of his own reasons for feeling resentment; a certain incident where souls were imprisoned on an island, but Mr. Spikes-N-God-Cards was too busy taking on the Seal of Orichalcos to bother rescuing any of them comes to mind. And there have been others. Our hero is not one to bear grudges however, thank you very much. He next offers to take the other one to a movie.
The other one says he would rather be disemboweled slowly, and with great effort, while the Thief King Bakura sat watching.
Bakura, or anything Bakura-related, is rather a touchy subject for our hero, but his manners remain intact. He asks after the little one, who actually knows how to be polite himself, and who used to share bodies with this one.
This one immediately ripostes with, "How dare you of all people even mention Yuugi's name, and if you do it again Pegasus, so help me, I'll…"
Oh dear oh dear, it looks like this one has forgotten: He has no powers any more, none at all, does he? Our hero may just mention this fact… Just in passing, you know. …He may also laugh a little bit.
The good thing about this, is it shuts the other one up right there, good and quick. The bad thing of course, is that there are still 20 blocks to go in this interminable taxi ride. Goddammit, why does New York have to be so damned crowded? Back in the good old days, one could get from one side of Duelist Kingdom to the other in twenty minutes, less, before all those annoying duelist-children got there.