Kisame was aware that he wasn't the fastest--oh, much faster than people expected of him, of course, and he was careful to keep the true extent of his speed hidden as a trump--but he had ways around the differences when they really made themselves known.

In this case, it was economy of motion. A tip of the sword had the edge intercepting the knife for the knee and knocking it spinning away, and a fraction of a shift moved his neck out of the way. Even so, the knife nearly sliced him open and Kisame felt its passing. He would have let it cut him, the better to make his opponent underestimate his ability, but this man was much better than most civilians, and with that small stature, Kisame was sure he'd worked out ways to make himself more deadly. Kisame wasn't going to risk poison, just in case. He'd have to wait and see if one of the knives hit an onlooker and what happened. They were still too close, stupid kids.

"How fast you are, Kin-san! I'm impressed."

Kisame pressed the attack, using his longer reach to his advantage as the blade arced in beautiful and deadly paths. A thrust, a feint, a diagonal cut all coming in without even a moment between, and faster than the first strike had been, as that one had been dodged.