Let’s talk about Kakeru Naruse for a moment—yeah, that quiet, thoughtful guy from Orange, the anime series directed by Hiroshi Hamasaki. It’s based on a manga by Ichigo Takano, and honestly, Kakeru Naruse is one of those characters who sticks with you long after the credits roll. He shows up as the new transfer student at Naho Takamiya’s school, and right off the bat, he catches everyone’s attention—not just because he’s good-looking, but because there’s something mysterious about him, something a little distant.

At first glance, Kakeru Naruse seems like your typical charming newcomer—friendly, polite, maybe even a bit cheerful. But as time goes on, it becomes clear that things aren’t as simple as they appear. Behind that calm exterior, Kakeru Naruse is carrying a lot of emotional weight. The truth? He’s been deeply affected by a family tragedy—the death of his mother—and he blames himself for what happened. That kind of guilt can eat a person alive, and for Kakeru Naruse, it leads to isolation, depression, and even thoughts of ending it all.

Now, here’s where the story really hits hard. Naho and her friends start noticing the cracks in Kakeru Naruse’s smile. They see how he pulls away when things get tough, how he avoids talking about his past. And slowly, they begin to understand just how much pain he’s in. What follows is this beautiful, heartfelt effort to reach out to him—to show Kakeru Naruse that he’s not alone, that people care, and that healing is possible, even when it feels impossible.

The plot takes an interesting turn with a time travel element—Naho receives letters from her future self, warning her about Kakeru Naruse’s fate if nothing changes. So she and the others make it their mission to alter the course of events, to give Kakeru Naruse a reason to keep going. And over time, you actually see a shift in him. Kakeru Naruse starts opening up, leaning on others, and confronting the grief he’s buried for so long. His journey isn’t linear—there are setbacks, moments of doubt—but that’s what makes it feel so real.

From a personality standpoint, Kakeru Naruse fits the INFP type pretty well. You know, the “Idealist” or “Mediator.” He’s introspective, deeply in tune with his emotions, and sensitive to the feelings of those around him—all classic signs of an INFP. He doesn’t just react to situations; he tries to understand their deeper meaning. And while he’s adaptable and goes with the flow, he also struggles with making firm decisions, especially when emotions are involved. That perceiving trait? Totally checks out for Kakeru Naruse.

Then there’s the Enneagram angle. If you’re into that kind of thing, Kakeru Naruse lines up almost perfectly with Type Four—the Individualist. These are people who crave authenticity, who feel different from everyone else, and who wrestle with intense emotions like melancholy and self-doubt. Kakeru Naruse definitely fits that mold. He feels disconnected, carries a sense of inner emptiness, and expresses himself through photography—a creative outlet that gives voice to his unspoken pain.

What’s powerful about Kakeru Naruse is how his sensitivity isn’t portrayed as weakness. Yeah, he’s moody, withdrawn at times, and haunted by the past. But that same depth allows him to form genuine connections. He notices when others are hurting. He offers comfort without needing praise. And despite everything, he still has hope—even if it’s fragile.

So, in the end, Kakeru Naruse isn’t just a character dealing with trauma. He’s a symbol of resilience, of what can happen when someone finally lets others in. Whether you’re analyzing him through MBTI, Enneagram, or just watching with empathy, one thing’s clear: Kakeru Naruse leaves a mark. His story reminds us that no one should have to suffer in silence—and sometimes, all it takes is a few caring people to help someone find their way back to the light.