The Myers-Briggs® Personality Types of the Dan Da Dan Characters
I think it’s safe to say that nobody is prepared for Dandadan (or Dan Da Dan?). You walk in expecting absurdity, but then it gets weirder than you could have predicted. Yokai, cursed tunnels, interdimensional banana-organ-seeking aliens, sentient testicles — you know, the usual. What you especially don’t expect is for your own fragile human psyche to get quietly filleted in the process. Somewhere between the comedy, the chaos, and the grotesque, you end up sobbing about motherhood and abandonment. This series feels kind of like being mugged by your inner child while a feral grandma shouts obscenities in the background.
But if you’re me (read: broken enough to type fictional characters for fun), you also notice something else: the cognitive functions behind the madness. Because somehow, even in a world where disembodied jaws talk back and cursed dolls swear like sailors, the Myers-Briggs® types sneak through.
So let’s take a look at the personality types represented in this series (warning, not all types are represented here).
The Myers-Briggs® Personality Types of the Dandadan Characters
Momo Ayase: ESTP
Momo is what would happen if raw competence grew legs, put on eyeliner, and developed zero patience for your excuses. She’s the epitome of Se-dominant sharpness: everything happens now. Threats? Handled. Demons? Exorcised. There is no overthinking with Momo. Her body moves before her brain finishes the sentence.
ESTPs are often called “tactical realists,” and watching Momo work is like watching Se in its most feral, glorious form. She’s sarcastic, grumpy, and highly responsive. The environment throws chaos at her and she adjusts instantly, like some kind of demon-slaying Roomba with great hair. When she’s thrown into battle against yokai or evil aliens, she doesn’t freeze or spiral into existential ‘what if’s?’ She just calculates: what’s in front of me, what can I use, where do I strike?
And yet, underneath that blunt exterior, her Fe tertiary function bubbles up on occasion. She’s fiercely loyal, protective, and when people she loves are hurt, the rage is instant. Not performative rage, but deep, primal fury. She doesn’t sit there intellectualizing injustice — she decks it in the face.
You see it when she steps between Okarun and his bullies without hesitation, before she even knows him. You see it when she risks herself again and again for people she’s claimed as hers. If she loves you, she’ll throw herself into traffic for you before you even realize you needed saving.
In short: Momo is the person you want leading your team when the world ends — just don’t let her near your crush, your wardrobe budget, or any situation requiring long-term planning.
Ken Takakura (Okarun): INFP
Okarun is an INFP with the kind of delicate emotional ecosystem that runs on anxiety, daydreams, and Google search rabbit holes about cryptid mating habits.
Where Momo is pure “punch now, process later,” Okarun is feel deeply now, apologize while punching, and then spiral about whether or not the person who just killed an alien for him actually wants him to say “hello.”
Okarun is a walking Fi-Ne swirl of awkward affection, moral angst, and idealism that borders on masochistic. He doesn’t just believe in aliens and yokai — he feels for them. And he still thinks the problem is him.
The thing with Okarun is that he never actually stopped being that lonely kid trying to contact aliens because they were the only ones he thought might understand him. That longing — that bone-deep, aching loneliness mixed with weird optimism — is practically stitched into his skin. It’s why he’s so quick to assume he’s not good enough. Why he stands in the background, watching the people he cares about laugh with someone else, and thinks, “Maybe I should just… leave? Quietly? Forever?”
Sir. Please. You’re literally possessed by a speed-demon granny spirit. You’re interesting.
But INFPs don’t measure their worth by how interesting they are. They measure it by how good they are — how kind, how genuine, how worthy of love. He still calls Momo “Ayase-san” like it’s some kind of sacred ritual, even after she’s bodyslammed a ghost for him and seen his cursed testicle situation up close.
His Ne shows up in how deep he dives into his interests. INFPs don’t “dabble.” They obsess. Okarun didn’t just learn a few facts about aliens — he lives it, breathes it, probably has an opinion about whether the Flatwoods Monster deserves its own Netflix show. His curiosity is driven by emotion, not logic. He doesn’t want to know the truth; he wants to belong in it.
Okarun is, at his core, someone who would rather be hurt than be the reason someone else hurts. And that’s both his curse and his brilliance. He’s the kind of friend who shows up, every time, no matter how broken he feels. And if he ever says your name without the polite honorific? You better believe you’ve earned a permanent spot in his soft, squishy heart.
Turbo Granny: ESTP
Turbo Granny is the human embodiment of a cigarette lit with a flamethrower. She’s all speed, sass, and deeply inappropriate commentary — basically an ESTP turned up to eleven, then slapped into a cursed doll body with no regard for laws, relationships, or lunch etiquette. If ESTPs are adrenaline incarnate, Turbo Granny is what happens when that adrenaline grows teeth and starts offering to suckle on your soul.
Let’s be honest: she’s gross. She’s chaotic. She’s wildly inappropriate. And she is, bafflingly, one of the most grounded characters in this entire eldritch carnival of a series. Because underneath the cursing and the wildly unnecessary body horror, Turbo Granny is pure Se energy: “What’s the problem? What can I do about it right now? Great, let’s do that. Also, you smell like sadness and regret. Eat something.”
Seiko (her equally unfiltered ESTP/ISTP counterpart) explains that Turbo Granny used to wander toward the spirits of girls who died tragically. Not to curse them. To comfort them. That’s when you realize that beneath all the vulgarity and speed lies an actual heart; a blunt, unsentimental one, but a heart nonetheless. One that recognizes pain and grief and says, “Yeah, the world sucks. Here’s a ride.”
She’s also the shadow side of Momo’s ESTP energy — the aged, unfiltered, absolutely-not-here-to-be-liked version. She is what happens when Se loses its social brakes but keeps its sharpness. A kind of yokai battle auntie who may or may not save your life while roasting your outfit choices.
Seiko Ayase: ESTP or ISTP
Seiko is one of those characters that makes you question whether the Myers-Briggs® system is even equipped to handle whatever flavor of unbothered competence she operates on.
Typing her is… hard. She has Se written all over her — the hyper-awareness of her environment, the instant adaptability, the complete comfort in physical space. She handles every escalating supernatural crisis with the same energy most of us reserve for reorganizing the garage: calm, efficient, and low-key irritated you even needed her help in the first place.
Part of me thinks ESTP — she’s bold, action-oriented, socially unflappable. But she’s independent and pragmatic to a level that makes her feel eerily ISTP-ish. There’s very little Feeling function showing; she rarely engages with anyone’s emotional state unless it directly affects the mission. I considered ESFP, but she lacks the warmth and the relational expressiveness. And then I rarely see Ti for her (the judging function that ESTPs and ISTPs use). Instead she seems to show Extraverted Thinking (Te). She’s always solving, always structuring the next move. She’s no nonsense and decisive and focused on her preferred outcome and reaching it as quickly as possible.
You could maybe argue for some hybrid STJ/STP tendencies with her sense of responsibility and direct problem-solving, but she doesn’t seem weighed down by Si (the STJs perceing function). She has no rulebook, no attachment to tradition, no compulsion to honor the past. She operates fully in the present moment, scans the environment, reads the problem, and moves.
The world is on fire, the aliens are coming, testicles are missing, and she’s sitting there adjusting her kimono like: “Relax. We’ll handle it. Stop bothering me.”
Aira Shiratori: ENFJ
Aira is what happens when you hand an ENFJ a childhood trauma, a mirror, and a full tank of ambition. She starts off like your classic queen bee — bubbly, charming, sweet on the outside, and quietly running an influencer scheme behind the scenes. She has this desperate, bone-deep need to matter.
As an Extraverted Feeling type (and an Enneagram 3), she’s living and breathing for how others respond to her. Aira’s entire identity revolves around being adored, admired, envied. She’s the girl who genuinely believes that flirting with every boy in school is “doing them a favor.” Like, they get to experience my presence — you’re welcome.
But the thing with ENFJs is their emotional complexity runs deep. The external charisma is always trying to compensate for something festering underneath. In Aira’s case? Loss. Her mother’s death leaves a hole she tries to fill with admiration and control. If she can manage every social dynamic, maybe she can outrun the grief. If everyone loves her, maybe she’ll feel safe.
And then she gets spiritual powers and immediately decides she’s The Chosen One. Of course. ENFJs have this terrifying ability to accidentally manifest a messiah complex overnight. It’s not even arrogance — it’s duty. She’s convinced she was selected to protect the world. An ESFJ (which I considered) would be much more down to earth, with some scattered theorizing about possibilities. But as an ENFJ, Aira narrows all the possibilities down to only one possible outcome: She’s the one who is here to save the world.
Jin Enjoji (Jiji): ESFP
Jiji is joy wearing a human suit that occasionally malfunctions. The boy enters every room with exuberance and a kind of slapstick goofiness that’s entirely lovable. He’s the very embodiment of ESFP energy: live fully, feel deeply, and maybe flirt with literally anyone who smiles at him.
He’s the guy who can make a joke out of anything, who somehow manages to be both wildly entertaining and deeply annoying, depending on how sleep-deprived you are. But under all the dramatics and verbal sound effects (“Fuuuuu!”) is that classic ESFP core: unfiltered emotional presence.
Where other types intellectualize or compartmentalize, ESFPs just feel. They don’t strategize their empathy; it hits them like a freight train. You see it in how instantly he feels sorry for the Evil Eye entity. If someone’s suffering, his heart just breaks on cue.
But Jiji’s also impulsive in a way that borders on self-endangerment. That Se-dominant thirst for experience makes him prone to charging into situations before fully grasping the consequences. Ask for a phone number? Done. Sacrifice himself for a friend? Already on it. Offer to play with the Evil Eye ghost child “for keeps”? Committed.
And his vibe with the group is also quintessentially ESFP. He somehow lowers the tension even while causing half of it. The moment gets too dark? He makes a joke. Someone’s brooding? He pulls them into the next wild idea before they can spiral. He’s a serotonin dealer dressed like a high school playboy.
Taro: ISFP
Okay, listen. Typing Taro is a little (or a lot) absurd because we’re talking about a sentient, hollowed-out anatomical model who runs on pure romantic fixation. And yes, there’s limited data. What we know is that he’s the sweet, awkward, loyal kind who falls in love so hard he might actually rearrange his internal organs (literally, in his case).
Taro’s entire being is built around feeling. He sees Hana, and instantly it’s like his world crystallizes into one singular goal: be with her. The devotion is unrelenting, naive, and completely sincere. That’s Fi-dominant energy — when ISFPs love, they don’t dip a toe in. They cannonball.
There’s no long intellectual dialogue about “What does this mean? Should I love her? What are the risks?” — he just commits. He throws himself at love the way you might throw a paper airplane into a hurricane: wildly optimistic, slightly unstable, but completely sincere.
His Se shows up in how physical and immediate his reactions are. Need to reassemble his entire body in seconds to chase after love? Done. Need to break apart again to avoid capture? Sure. Need to run straight into traffic because time is meaningless if he can’t see Hana tonight? Obviously.
He lives entirely in the moment, driven by sensation and personal value.
Acrobatic Silky: ISFJ
There is not enough therapy in the world for what Acrobatic Silky did to my tear ducts. She’s an ISFJ wrapped in pure, devastating tragedy. The kind of tragedy that crawls under your ribs and nests there permanently.
ISFJs are natural caretakers. They protect. They nurture. They sacrifice. And when that drive is twisted by grief — like, say, losing your child to loan sharks and being beaten bloody while powerless to stop it — that caretaker instinct can mutate into obsessive, haunting desperation. Silky becomes fixated on finding someone to protect. Anyone. She latches onto Aira because her shattered psyche needs to mother again. Her identity is gone without it.
Even as a monstrous yokai, she isn’t malicious in intent. She’s desperate. She tries to recreate the family she lost because she’s still clinging to her lost purpose. ISFJs struggle deeply when their roles are forcibly ripped away. Take that away, and their world disintegrates.
Her Si function shows up in her obsessive attachment to the past — even though her memories are fractured, the emotional residue remains. She doesn’t remember exactly who her daughter was, but she feels the loss like phantom pain. It drives every action.
And then — that scene. When she offers her aura to bring Aira back. When she rips off her jaw as proof she won’t harm anyone. When she accepts her own erasure into oblivion because all that matters is her child being safe.
That is ISFJ self-sacrifice in its rawest, most devastating form.
Watching Aira embrace her, finally giving her the one thing she needed to let go — it’s the emotional equivalent of being hit by a semi-truck full of orphaned puppies. I ugly cried. You ugly cried. The entire internet ugly cried.
But What Do You Think?
Do you agree or disagree on any of these characters? Let me know in the comments! It’s always interesting to see what others have noticed that I may have missed (or interpreted in a completely different way).
Find out more about your personality type in our eBooks, Discovering You: Unlocking the Power of Personality Type, The INFJ – Understanding the Mystic, The ISFJ – Understanding the Protector, and The INFP – Understanding the Dreamer. You can also connect with me via Facebook, Instagram, or YouTube!