Pegasus and Bakura. Yami Bakura, to be precise. Two white-haired lunatics who are willing to kill an as-of-yet undetermined amount of people to get what they want.

Put them together and see what they think of each other, or of themselves.

Note: I usually follow the anime series where Bakura has green eyes and Yami Bakura has reddish/purple ones. But this fic is my take on what we don't see in a certain episode of the series where he has brown eyes. So, he has brown eyes here.

The Japanese name of "Funny Bunny" was "Funny Rabbit" which came out as "Fani Rabitto," so… I'll go with Funny Bunny, thanks.

If you don't know, this is my take on what happens in the episode where Honda, Anzu, and Bakura are in Pegasus's private tower and get sent to the realm with Shadow Games being played…

White Hair

"Did you know, Bakura watches Sailor Moon?" He asked, stepping forward from the stone walled hallway. The shadows fell from his face, revealing a smirk that really should have remained hidden in darkness.

He kicked the two bodies at his feet out of the way, walking towards Pegasus. The unconscious brunettes, Anzu and Hiroto, would have thought he was referring to himself in third person with the Sailor Moon remark. Pegasus, although the golden eye hidden beneath his hair was neutralized by the second Millennium Item in the room, knew otherwise. It was Bakura's body, yes, white hair like Pegasus's own but spiked, deep brown eyes that seemed narrower than they had before, and the slight build, only as tall as Anzu. Yet little Bakura did not know the power of his Millennium Ring, did not have the control over it to block the power from the Eye despite not having as many souls at his disposal. Little Bakura did not smirk and grin sadistically and run his tongue over his teeth.

"He was really obsessed with it, the way you are with Funny Bunny. Has every damn comic, used to watch the show every day it was on, bought the movies: everything. All this useless, trivial information on which Sailor Senshi is which, hell, he even knows their birthdays," the light-haired boy continued, not stopping his advance towards Pegasus. "But, out of all that shit, there was one amusing thing." Here he paused, waiting for the appropriate drama to build, fixing the one-eyed man with a nightmare-inducing stare.

"There was a Pegasus in Sailor Moon. He had a Golden Crystal, an item of great power, and everybody wanted it. But you know, the big difference between Sailor Moon and reality…"

He lunged at the older man with no warning, no bending of his legs before he all but leapt and brought them both crashing to the ground, one hand making it to Pegasus's face and clawing at the left side of it. Bakura's second hand held both his wrists, and it was only a lucky kick to the fiend's stomach that allowed Pegasus to roll away and spring up onto one knee. The stone floor was jagged and rough, and he'd probably have bruises on his arms and supporting knee come morning. Fresh pain throbbed up his leg, hurting him at a level that Pegasus thought should have been visible. Physical pain… he'd never dealt well with physical pain, and keeping the grimace in check was difficult.

Bakura – or rather, his body – rose much more slowly, knowing that though Pegasus was larger, he wouldn't attack. The boy's hair was messier than usual, and not entirely from his scuffle with Pegasus. From the moment the ring had appeared, his hair had risen and, though it was an absurd thought, it seemed somehow sharper.

"It's a burden, though, isn't it?" He demanded, no longer smiling. Both his expression and voice were enigmatic, and there were few times that Pegasus had wanted his Millennium Eye working more than he did then. "Aren't you jealous of little Yuugi? His girlfriend is alive." The pale-haired boy straightened up, face still unreadable. "I'm only offering to relieve you of that burden."

The ever-sadistic smirk broke out again, as he added, "I can relieve you of all your burdens. Guilt for taking their souls, longing for your dead girlfriend – if you let me, you won't feel a thing."

"She wasn't my girlfriend," Pegasus almost growled. "She was my wife."

Bakura's body threw up a hand in slight annoyance. "Girlfriend, wife, same difference. She was your lover, and the key word is was."

Pegasus bristled at that. Who did this little boy—even if it wasn't Bakura, he was just an upstart little punk—think he was? Insulting her… unforgivable. The Eye glowed slightly.

"Oh, wanna play it that way?" The boy taunted, tossing his head. The ivory strands flew back, seeming lavender in the shadows. "Of course. Everybody goes the hard way. I didn't expect you to give up without a fight. Would've been quite disappointing." His manner dipped arrogance, a demeanor that had been designed and perfected over years, its sole intent to offend and injure.

It worked. The silver-haired man found his fists clenching, seemingly of their own free will. Yet he made no move toward Bakura, and the boy made no move toward him, but stood relaxed and leaning on one leg, perfectly at ease despite the situation.

"But as I was saying. The difference between Sailor Moon and our world is this." He smirked, showing teeth as white as his hair.

"In Sailor Moon, the Pegasus lives."

With that he turned, stopping to pick up Yuugi's friends and throw each over a shoulder with a strength that Bakura should not have possessed. Pegasus stood where he was, fists slowly clenching and releasing, but did not follow.

A feeling welled up in Pegasus, starting below his ribs and reaching up to grip at his heart. It took him a moment to place it; though the emotion was familiar, it was old.

It was a feeling he couldn't recall having since before he'd gotten his Millennium Item. The same feeling he'd had at realizing he could do nothing to save Cynthia.

Helplessness. Pegasus felt helpless, frustrated, and trapped, all because of a few well-chosen words and taunts from a boy close to half his age. He'd been reduced to just standing there, every muscle too tensed to move, completely undefended and open to attack. If anything, the fact that Bakura had chosen to walk away was the worst. The little bastard was cocky enough to think he could finish the job at his leisure, confident enough to look away from a relatively uninjured and powerful opponent.

Yet, how could a child such as Bakura know how to cut that deeply with only words? To read his opponent at a glance and find that one unhealed wound and rub sulfur into it. Teenage boys in high school, with timid manners such as Bakura had, did not do that.

Pegasus reached a hand to his face, fingers pulling a few astray silver strands back into place over the golden eye. He had to collect himself, to relax, to calm down… at least, outwardly. After all, he was the one who read minds, and if nobody could tell how badly he'd been shaken by the encounter – if he hid it well enough, put it off until after he'd defeated Yuugi – nobody would know.

Nobody would know that the great Pegasus felt caged in and helpless, like a vulnerable little child.