MBTI high school

#Bonus 2

Bonus Chapter: The Otaku Fair

There were several types of events in this world. Serious events. Important events. Cultural events.
And then there was... The Anime Fair.

A place where twenty-five-year-old adults screamed over a limited-edition figurine. A place where people engaged in verbal warfare to decide whether a fictional character could beat Goku.
A place where teenagers spent the equivalent of a month's rent to buy a plushie of a cat holding a sword.

In short.
Paradise.

And ENFP had been ready for three weeks.

- I HAVE WAITED FOR THIS DAY MY ENTIRE LIFE!

- You said the exact same thing for the release of Chainsaw Man volume 17, INFJ replied calmly.

- BECAUSE THAT WAS ALSO A HISTORIC MOMENT!

INFJ sighed. Why was he even here?

Let's rewind a few hours.

Specifically to the moment INFJ had received The Request.

INTJ did not beg. It was an established fact, documented, etched somewhere into the constitution of his personality between "I don't laugh" and "prolonged eye contact is an act of aggression."

And yet.

- Please.

INFJ had blinked.

- Watch over my sister.

Another blink.

- I... what?

INTJ had kept his gaze direct, his posture rigid, but something in his shoulders betrayed a carefully compressed distress, like a zip file containing an emotional disaster.

- The anime fair. ESFP is going. ENFP too, most likely. If I leave them unsupervised, there will be an incident.

- Why don't you go yourself?

Silence.

- I have things to do.

- INTJ.

- Important things.

- INTJ.

- ...I can't stand crowds.

INFJ had looked at his friend. This young man, capable of analyzing complex systems before his morning coffee, who read Kant to relax, who had once left a philosophy professor speechless for twenty full minutes, this young man was terrified of what his sister might cause.

To be fair, it wasn't entirely irrational.

- Alright, had said INFJ.

INTJ had nodded. With dignity. With gravity, and very discreetly, with a relief that bordered on gratitude.

INFJ had put on his coat, wondering what on earth he had just gotten himself into.

The answer: a whole lot.

The fair was massive. Loud. Colorful. An organized chaos managed by people who loved chaos but still wanted a floor plan.
INFJ knew anime culture. A little. Enough not to look completely lost. But a long time ago, in a surge of stoic discipline he vaguely regretted this morning, he had paused all his pop-culture distractions.

So he observed the booths with the expression of an anthropologist in the field. Observant. Detached. Professional.

He was going to survive this.
ENFP, on the other hand, was not observing. ENFP was participating.
More specifically, ENFP was at the center of a debate that had started as a conversation and morphed into a public trial.