Chapter 8 — Shaping a New Future

2013 — 3rd Grade

The soft ticking of the clock filled the room as Ivan sat at the small kitchen table, his eyes scanning over a rough multiplication table he'd scribbled into a worn-out notebook. His younger brother sat across from him, pencil in hand, tongue poking out slightly in concentration as he struggled with a simple math problem.

"Three times four?" Ivan asked, his tone patient.

His brother hesitated before answering, "Twelve?"

Ivan smiled. "That's right."

It was slow progress, but it was happening.

Next year, he's going to first grade, Ivan thought, glancing at his brother, who was now drawing little stars around the number twelve. In the old timeline, he never had anyone to teach him the basics. He struggled through school and never got proper guidance. By eighteen, he couldn't even multiply properly.

The memory stung. In the past timeline, his brother had grown up mostly under their mother's care, who was too deep into gambling and drinking to care about schoolwork. The result? His brother drifted into the wrong crowd, wasting years on pointless fights and bad decisions.

This time, I'm not letting that happen.

Ivan leaned forward, tapping his pencil against the notebook. "You're smart. You know that, right?"

His brother looked up, eyes wide. "Really?"

"Yeah. Smarter than you think. That's why we're doing this. So next year, you'll walk into first grade and already be ahead of everyone."

The thought gave Ivan a strange sense of peace. It was the first concrete change he could make—something tangible that could shape the future.

If I can teach him everything up to fifth-grade level before first grade, he won't end up like before. No hooligan nonsense. No drifting around at eighteen with no clue how to survive.

But it wasn't just about school. Ivan remembered something else—something that had surprised him in the last timeline.

He picked up German and English in a year without breaking a sweat when we moved to Germany. If I start that now, he'll have it mastered before we even go there.

Ivan pulled out another notebook—this one filled with simple German and English phrases.

"Alright, let's switch it up. What's 'dog' in German?"

"Hund!" his brother answered excitedly.

"And in English?"

"Dog!"

Ivan grinned. He's already ahead of where he was last time.

Days turned into weeks, and the lessons became their routine. While their mother was out—usually at the bar, gambling or drinking—Ivan would sit with his brother, teaching him everything from basic math to reading in multiple languages. The boy's natural curiosity made it easier than Ivan expected.

But time wasn't standing still. The house still echoed with the sounds of their mother coming home late, slamming doors, the smell of alcohol thick in the air. It was a constant reminder of why Ivan had to make this work.

One evening, as the front door slammed shut and the sound of their mother rummaging for more beer filled the apartment, Ivan quickly pulled his brother closer.

"Let's finish the story," he said, holding up a children's book in English.

His brother nestled in beside him, reading the words carefully. "The… dog… runs… fast."

Ivan ruffled his hair. "Perfect."

His brother grinned wide, his pride glowing.

Ivan sat back, feeling that rare, warming sensation in his chest. This is working. I'm actually changing something.

But he knew the hard part was still ahead.

This is only the beginning. If I can pull this off—if I can shape him into something better—maybe I can fix more than just my own life this time.

He closed the book, his determination stronger than ever.

I just have to stay ahead of the mistakes. For him. For all of us.