It's like this:
Ash threaded his way through the crowd, slouching back towards Viktor's, and home. The flow of the crowd was against him. Everyone wanted to leave that part of town. A Suit brushed Ash's shoulder as he passed, briefcase thudding into Ash's leg, setting off alarm bells that echoed in the considerable space occupied by Ash's fear. Watch them, watch.
A sweet faced woman in a thick winter coat stepped out of Ash's way, no obvious disgust on her face, just two tiny patches of red on her cheeks fighting the cold. She was just being careful. Kid in a leather jacket detached himself from a building up ahead, walking with eyes down, slight angle in his walk like he was making to cross the road. Fat little paper bag in the kids hand, held with a contrary twist of his wrist, hand closed around something, maybe a bottle. It reminded Ash of prison, the way they'd sometimes hide a blade in a bag full of air, going to cut some sorry fucker. Another Suit crashed the kid. Should've been looking where he was walking. The paper bag crushed almost flat.
The kid walking towards Ash. Flat bag like it's got a thin in it. A shank. A knife.
This is how it looked. A kid stumbles in the street, putting empty hands out in front of him to block his fall. It's hard to say if the sick-making crack of bone piercing flesh comes before or after he hits the ground. You probably wouldn't notice the bum with the paper bag, just some non-descript, who was passing the kid as he fell. Your eyes would be on the kid, wondering if he was on drugs, or just careless. A bad fall like that.