The truth reveal {48}

With a newfound sense of curiosity, Keitaro turned to Panditji, his voice laced with a hint of reverence. "Thank you for welcoming me," he said bowing down a bit making sure to be as respecful as possible. "Rahul mentioned Atma shuddhi, the purification of the soul. I find the concept fascinating. Could you tell me more about it?"

Panditji's smile deepened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Ah, Atma shuddhi," he echoed, his voice a gentle rumble. "It is a cornerstone of our faith, a path to liberation for the soul." He gestured towards the towering temple. "This very place is designed to facilitate that journey."

Keitaro leaned in, eager to absorb his words. "Rahul mentioned yoga and bhakti," He said. "Are those the only ways to purify the soul?"

Panditji chuckled softly. "There are many paths, each suited to a different temperament," he explained. "Yoga, with its emphasis on physical and mental discipline, helps quiet the mind and achieve inner peace. Bhakti, the path of devotion, allows you to connect with the divine through prayers and chants."

He pointed a finger upwards, his gaze flickering towards the ornate temple dome. "Seva, selfless service, is another way," he continued. "Helping others without expecting anything in return purifies the soul by detaching you from material desires."

Keitaro mind raced with questions. "What about these rituals I see practiced in temples?" he asked, her eyes flitting towards a group of devotees chanting in unison. "Do they help too?"

Panditji's smile widened. "Indeed," he said. "Rituals like puja, offerings to the deities, can cleanse the mind and body. Chanting mantras creates a powerful vibration that resonates with the soul, promoting inner peace."

He looked at Keitaro with a warm understanding. "The key, my good sir," he said, his voice dropping to a soft murmur, "is to find a path that resonates with you. Whether it's the physical discipline of yoga, the devotion of bhakti, or simply striving to be a better person, every step towards a pure soul brings you closer to moksha, liberation."

Panditji's final comment hung in the air, heavy with unexpected significance. "Though you seem to have passed through Samsara already," he said, his gentle smile now tinged with a hint of something... enigmatic.

Keitaro brow furrowed. Samsara? The word was unfamiliar, yet it resonated with a strange sense of foreboding. "Passed through Samsara?" His voiced echoed, "What do you mean, Panditji?"

The Pujari's gaze softened, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Samsara," he explained, "is the cycle of rebirth, the endless wheel of life, death, and reincarnation." He gestured towards the vibrant temple carvings depicting scenes of gods and mortals. "We Hindus believe that the soul takes many journeys through this cycle, burdened by karma, until it achieves moksha, liberation."

But his next words sent a shiver down Keitaro spine. "Your eyes, young one," he said, his voice dropping to a hushed reverie, "they hold a wisdom beyond your years. A calmness that suggests a soul perhaps nearing the end of its Samsara."

Confusion and a flicker of unease warred within Keitaro. Was he complimenting him? Or hinting at something more unsettling? "Nearing the end?" He stammered, his voice strained. "But I'm just here for a visit, Panditji. I haven't lived a hundred lifetimes!"

Panditji chuckled softly, a melodious sound that seemed to echo within the temple walls. "Perhaps not in this life," he said cryptically. "The ways of the Atman are mysterious, young one. Who can say for certain what journeys your soul has undertaken before finding its way here?"

Panditji's words hung in the air, the weight of them settling heavily on Keitaro chest. "Have you ever had dreams," he asked, his voice a gentle murmur, "where you saw yourself living a new life, unfamiliar yet strangely vivid? Dreams filled with emotions, sights, and sounds that feel real, even though they clearly aren't your own?"

Keitaro eyes widened. A kaleidoscope of memories flooded her mind – lush green fields stretching to a horizon painted with the colors of a setting sun, the feel of calloused hands gripping a plow, the scent of woodsmoke and freshly baked bread. The battles...the scents of blood the giants monster and that weird lady with the red hair.

Those were things he himself had never seen but flowed quickly in his mind as if they were his own.

A shiver ran down her spine. Panditji was right. He had those dreams. Vivid, recurring dreams that felt more like forgotten memories than mere figments of her imagination. Dreams where he wasn't a jujutsu sorcerer, but what seemed to be a shinobi of.....

No....No...Keitaro held his head in his hands...

The unsettling feeling from the yellow-eyed figure, the Panditji's cryptic words about Samsara nearing its end – it all clicked into place, forming a picture he wasn't sure she wanted to see.

Taking a shaky breath, Keitaro confessed, "Yes," his voice barely a whisper. "I... I have had those dreams. They feel so real, Panditji. As if I've lived another life entirely."

A knowing smile played on Panditji's lips. "Perhaps you have, my dear," he said softly. "Perhaps those are echoes of your Atman's past journeys, glimpses of past lives lived and lessons learned."

"FUCKKKKKKKK!"Keitaro muttered out looking extremely annoyed much to Panditji's confusion.

The words that he had heard today just confirmed something he didnt want to believe.

He was Minato reincarnation...Gojo must never find out about this.

A/N I wonder how many people saw this coming.